The Gatekeepers: a powerful indictment of Israel’s obsession with security and use of fear, terror and violence

Dror Moresh, “The Gatekeepers” (2012)

An astonishing and powerful documentary about the Israeli internal intelligence security agency Shin Bet as seen through the eyes and viewpoints of six former heads of that service, “The Gatekeepers” turns out to be an indictment of Israel’s obsession with its security and resort to continual violence and terror in resolving its conflicts with Palestinians and neighbouring countries, and the instability and corruption such violence causes to Israel and the Palestinians alike. Moresh initially was moved to make this film after seeing the Errol Morris documentary “The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S McNamara” which dealt with the life and experiences of the former US Secretary of Defense.

The documentary takes the form of interwoven interviews between Moresh and his six interviewees and is set out in seven segments that follow a loose chronological structure starting with Shin Bet’s emergence as a result of the Six Day War in 1967 and the occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip to the present day. Each segment focuses on a significant incident or series of incidents in which the Shin Bet was involved and which had a significant effect on Israeli government policy, public opinion and society generally. The interviews are embellished with archival footage and computer-generated reconstructions that approximate what happened.

Although the film appears dry, its impact and importance come through the men’s descriptions of their own feelings and views about their actions and the orders they were given by successive Israeli Prime Ministers like Golda Meir, Menachem Begin, Yitzhak Shamir, Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres among others. The former heads’ disgust for those politicians who bullied them and Shin Bet into performing hateful actions that killed hundreds, possibly thousands, of Palestinians and traumatised thousands more, yet hung out the Shin Bet heads to twist and wither in the condemnation of the Israeli media and public opinion, is very clear in the segment on the Bus 300 affair in which Shin Bet agents executed two Palestinian bus hijackers while the two men were tied up and helpless. Soon after this shocking incident, Avraham Shalom, one of Moresh’s interviewees, resigned as Shin Bet head and was pardoned, yet the memory of the incident in which he ordered the killings at the behest of the government affected him deeply at the time of interview nearly 30 years later.

Later segments in the film dealing with the Oslo Peace Process in the 1990s, the rise of extremism among born-again Jews and the Jewish settler movement, and the targeted assassination of prominent Hamas leaders and members like Yahya Ayyash show how the Israeli government’s reliance on terror and violence to thwart Palestinian aspirations to self-determination and right to land stolen from them has steadily corrupted both Israeli politics and society, and traumatised Israelis as well as Palestinians. Each side ends up being driven to commit more desperate and deadly acts of violence and killing which escalate in scale, inhumanity and impact, and leave the other side even more psychologically wounded and intent on revenge.

The focus on interviewing the former Shin Bet heads has the unfortunate effect of ignoring the wider effect on Israeli society and economy. The constant obsession with repressing the Palestinian people privileges certain segments of Israeli society and entrenches their power and influence over Israel institutions. At the same time, other issues in Israeli culture and society are ignored and government spending on dealing and resolving these issues is either scant or even declining. As I write, I can Google for information on the levels of poverty in Israel and find articles reporting that Israel has the highest poverty rate and the highest child poverty rate, with 1 in 3 children living in poverty, of the OECD countries. This is before we even consider the levels of destitution facing Arabs in pre-1967 Israel and Palestinians living in the Occupied Territories. I can also Google for information on the levels of social and economic equality in Israel and discover to my amazement that a very small number of families there control over half the nation’s wealth and wield incredible influence over society.

The former Shin Bet heads admit that they have behaved immorally and criminally, and see the irony of their having treated Palestinians almost as dismally as the Nazis treated Jews during World War II. The climax of the film comes when all of them express contempt for past Israeli Prime Ministers and governments, and advocate dialogue with all Palestinians, including groups such as Hamas and Islamic Jihad that were or are dedicated to wiping out the Israeli state, as the only way to resolve conflict and bring about peace. As one of the interviewees jokingly admits, retirement from Shin Bet has made him a little bit “leftist”.

Even if Israel as a whole were to turn to peaceful diplomacy and conflict resolution, the path ahead is still strewn with problems, of which the major one is certainly the United States and other Western countries and the lobby groups in those countries’ governments that have an interest in prolonging conflict and using Israel as an enforcer to steal the natural resources of Middle Eastern countries and deny all Middle Eastern peoples, Jews, Muslims and other religious groups there alike, the right to control and determine their own destinies and use their territories’ wealth to secure their own well-being.

Waltz with Bashir: a film revealing repressed memories and a hideous war crime in parallel

Ari Folman, “Waltz with Bashir” (2008)

Few movies about war must be as personal and intense as this animated film about an Israeli ex-soldier’s gradual acknowledgement of the part he played in a specific war-crime incident in 1982 – the massacre of Palestinians by Christian Lebanese Phalangist militias, for whom units of the Israeli Defense Forces gave cover, in the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps near Beirut during the Lebanese civil war – through his recovery by various means of memories he has repressed since his military service in the early 1980’s. Film-maker Ari Folman’s personal odyssey begins when a friend, Boaz, tells him that he (Boaz) has been having recurring nightmares about being pursued by 26 dogs through city streets. Boaz’s recovered memory, which he attributes to the time when he shot 26 dogs as a soldier serving with the Israeli Defense Forces in Beirut in 1982, triggers memory flashbacks for Folman; until then, Folman had no memory of what he did as a young teenage soldier. Folman determines to discover what he got up to during military service by visiting and interviewing old friends and a journalist. The stories they tell him are harrowing and painful. Folman consults a psychiatrist and others who discuss with him topics like repressed memory, recurring dreams and their meanings, mental dissociation and the consequences of such phenomena when they continue for too long and are never brought into consciousness. Gradually by recovering his memories, Folman is able to reconstruct where he was and what he was doing in Beirut in mid-September 1982; the revelation of his part in the massacres, however indirect, is horrific but not surprising.

The film deals with the issue of post-traumatic stress disorder, manifested as memory repression, insomnia and unpleasant recurring dreams, in individuals like Folman and his friends, and the parallel recovery of an important historic event which still remains deliberately suppressed by many people within and outside Israel and Lebanon as a major war crime. Major people who could have prevented the massacre either directly or indirectly have never been punished or censured appropriately for their failure, deliberate or otherwise, to act. Yet the massacre itself and the context it occurred in obviously had a deep effect on the soldiers who participated: one friend, Carmi, once an outstanding school student, left Israel to open a falafel-selling business in the Netherlands after finishing military service. This reviewer had the impression that other friends like Boaz and Ronny also achieved much less in their lives than they could have as a result of their army service. Perhaps “Waltz …” could have made a more general point about how compulsory military service has affected generations of Israelis and how its effects have percolated through Israeli society and values  but this might have widened the film’s scope too much and risked making it unfocussed.

Choosing animation over a live-action format is a wise move: the animated approach, which includes hand-drawn animation and flash cut-outs, turns the film’s structure away from a documentary genre to a historical fiction genre into which dreams and repressed memories can be reconstructed and replayed. The approach also allows the film to be flexible, flying from an interview into a memory flashback or a dream, then back into real life in a smooth flow. Even if Folman had opted for a live-action approach, he still would have found it necessary to portray flashbacks as animated or semi-animated to alert viewers of the change. The animation does look awkward and amateurish at first – characters look stiff, their heads are too big, their movements are sometimes jerky – but it does have a definite three-dimensional look, especially when the scene draws back from viewers. Transport technology like helicopters and tanks are rendered realistically if not in detail. The predominant use of colours like yellows, browns, greys and murky blue-greens give a very surreal look to large parts of the film; in later scenes in the movie where there is much fighting and killing, the yellowish-brown tints to the sky and bullet-ridden buildings in Beirut along the Mediterranean shoreline give the impression of Hell on Earth.

The animation is at its most effective in scenes where the young Folman is on leave and goes back home; he feels distant from the life whizzing around him in the streets. People behave as if there is no war and Folman senses the disconnect between his experiences in southern Lebanon and life at home. What impact that disconnection must have had on him is never investigated. One very beautiful and quite surreal scene is one in which Folman and Carmi sit on a couch in a field of flowers; another great scene is one where Israeli soldiers are walking through an olive grove while the sun beats down and the trees leave shadows over the soldiers. Suddenly a hidden Arab boy with a rocket launcher on his shoulder lets fly with a projectile that flies in slow motion past the soldiers and blasts their tank apart: beautifully poetic yet very shocking and horrifying.

Whether the recovery of his memories has been therapeutic for Folman, the film doesn’t say: the revelation of what did happen in the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps in mid-September 1982, turning from animation into actual newsreels of the massacre and its aftermath, and Folman’s role in aiding the Phalangist militias lead to an abrupt and open ending. No accounts from relatives of the murdered Palestinians are included, no death toll is given – the figures are still disputed but Folman could have included the minimum and maximum figures in a title card – and there is no mention of Israel’s Kahan commission which found Ariel Sharon, then Israeli Defense Minister, personally responsible for the massacre. Such omissions weaken the film’s impact by making it appear a self-pitying sob story with no end. More could also have been said in the film about the culture of the IDF; there’s a hint in a scene where a senior officer watches a porn film that the army is a corrupt and dysfunctional institution.

Viewers need to know the broader context of Israel’s involvement in southern Lebanon during the Lebanese civil war, in particular the IDF’s role in the Sabra and Shatila massacres, to be able to follow the film’s narrative which does fly back and forth between past and present. An appreciation of the consequences of Israel’s intrusion into the Lebanese civil war helps: after all, the Hezbollah movement formed in south Lebanon at the same time to resist Israel. Some repetition is to be expected with a theme that includes repressed memories and flashbacks.

“Waltz …” is a brave and confronting attempt to investigate the nature of post-traumatic stress disorder and its symptoms of repressed memory, flashbacks and recurring dreams, and how this investigation brings an entire historical event, still  lacking proper closure, to collective consciousness, perhaps in the hope that it may lead to collective healing for a generation of Israelis.

 

 

 

Or (My Treasure): film treads gingerly around prostitution issue

Keren Yedaya, “Or (My Treasure)” (2004)
 Source: www.allmovie.com
Debut feature from director Keren Yedaya, this Israeli film is a study of a dysfunctional mother-daughter relationship dominated by the mother’s career “choice”: street prostitution. For lack of a better word, I chose “choice” and put it in inverted commas as the movie is unclear as to whether the mother Ruthie (Ronit Elkabetz) made the choice to be a hooker or just drifted, or was forced, into prostitution under circumstances she had no control over. The film takes the point of view of Or (Dana Ivgy), Ruthie’s teenage daughter, and can be seen as a coming-of-age film of a despairing kind. We follow Or as she goes through her daily routine in her working-class neighbourhood, trying to juggle schoolwork with working at a restaurant at nights, collecting bottles for recycling and keeping her mother out of trouble. Mum has just left hospital and already Or has lined up a cleaning job to keep the woman occupied and bring in some money to pay the rent which is already in arrears. Over the course of the movie though, it’s apparent Ruthie has little appetite for cleaning work, however easy it looks, and soon drifts back into prostitution out of habit. This drives Or to desperation as the bills mount up and she breaks up with her boyfriend Ido and joins an escort agency.
The effects of prostitution on Ruthie and Or are devastating and dehumanising: Ruthie must have worked the streets for so long that she is incapable of interacting with men in ways that don’t involve trading sexual favours for something needed, like repairs to the apartment where she and Or live or getting more time from the landlord to pay the rent. She seems desensitised by both her work and its brutal and dangerous consequences: in one scene, she comes home from a tryst with blood streaming down her legs yet seems not to care enough to see a doctor. In a mental fug during her waking hours, Ruthie is a child who must be told what to do and Or is the mother who keeps dragging her back from the front door to stop her from walking the streets in her skimpy outfits that scream “hooker”. When Ruthie is at home, she either sleeps or watches TV listlessly and whines to her daughter when she is there. Or in her interactions with Ido (Meshar Cohen) and other boys is falling into the same trap as Ruthie did: she sleeps with Ido, causing friction between Ido’s mother and Ruthie, in order to be close to him and can’t say no to an old boyfriend on leave from the Israeli Army when he demands a kiss and a blow-job. As Ruthie continues her downward slide back into prostitution, she becomes increasingly robotic and casually brushes off Or’s pleas not to return to her old ways. Or herself shows signs of emotional withdrawal and desensitisation when she pushes Ido away, seduces the landlord and, after joining the escort agency, services an elderly client who demands anal sex of her.
I’ve seen Elkabetz in “The Band’s Visit” and “La Fille du RER”, and it’s hard to believe that the child-like zombie padding around the apartment in underwear or dressed pathetically in boob-tube and hot pants with gaudy make-up painted all over her face wandering the city streets at night is the same actor who plays the elegant lawyer (“La Fille …”) or the helpful shop-owner who aids the stranded Egyptian musicians (“The Band’s Visit”): proof if any is needed that Elkabetz is a versatile character actor whose own personality quirks, if she has any, disappear completely in the character she plays. Ivgy who appears in nearly every scene holds up her side of acting very well, particularly near the end where she is fighting to hold back tears as she watches her mother paint her face. Together these two actors anchor the entire film, no small challenge even for someone as experienced as Elkabetz, and so it’s all the more amazing for me to discover that this is Ivgy’s first film where she plays a main character forced into a harrowing situation.
There are three significant moments in the film where Or laughs, and laughs abundantly: when she is with Ruthie at home watching TV, enjoying each other’s company and free of all cares; when she is with Ido in his room before she gives herself to him freely; and when she describes to the girls at school her sexual encounter with the ageing landlord. These moments can be interpreted as transition points in Or’s transformation from innocent, sensitive girl to world-weary, cynical adult; in the first moment, the laughter is genuine and spontaneous, in the second moment a little less so, and in the third moment, the laughter seems forced and a bit cynical.
The people around Or seem sympathetic to her problems but no-one suggests she contact a social welfare officer or an Israeli government or private equivalent to seek help for herself and Ruthie. Ido’s mother, confronting Ruthie and Or in their home, doesn’t suggest Or and Ido should seek sex education counselling; she simply wants them apart. Perhaps the people in Or’s neighbourhood distrust the government for some reason or are unaware of what’s available to help people in need. Perhaps the Israeli government has cut back on funding social services in neighbourhoods such as where Ruthie and Or live. The hospital where Ruthie is simply dumps her outside its doors and offers no further support. Whatever the reason, Or is on her own struggling to save her mother from herself and the girl is neglecting her own needs and education. (Though it could be said that Or is her own worst enemy in a way as she rejects Ido’s offer of help and refuses to see the school careers advisor.) Society as portrayed in the film seems self-absorbed and atomistic: the opening scene in the film shows pedestrians and commuters going about their business in a busy city street, all of them appearing oblivious to one another’s existence or condition and absorbed in their own mental worlds. Apart from Ido who genuinely cares about Or’s well-being, the men in the film are either predatory, taking advantage of Ruthie or Or in some way, or just plain ineffective.
Certainly the film is critical of the effects of prostitution on prostitutes themselves and their families – Or and Ruthie are not condemned for their actions and Ruthie appears driven by forces and urges she can’t understand and control – but its teenage-based scope and minimal fly-on-the-wall fixed-frame exposition of the problem of women’s sexual exploitation in Israel and what that might suggest about the position of women generally in that country limit its effectiveness as a plea for social and political change and reform. The issue is too personalised and the focus is very much on whether Or can wrench herself away from Ruthie and get out of the prostitution rut before it consumes her spirit and youth as it did her mother’s. The ambiguous ending suggests she might still have a chance while she’s young but the choice that faces Or is too cruel: dump her mother and save herself, risking censure and self-guilt along the way for abandoning Ruthie, or sink into her mother’s abyss. The solution for Or has to be a win-win situation for herself and for Ruthie but the events of the film are set up in a way that prevents such an outcome.
It’s hard not to escape the feeling that as social criticism, “Or (My Treasure)” treads very gingerly around prostitution and how it traps women and girls. The film risks being seen as having a conservative and narrow agenda about what can be done (it’s up to the individual to save herself, society has no responsibility to help people like Ruthie and Or break their particular vicious cycle) or exploiting the issue for titillation purposes.