LIBERATION THROUGH CINEMA

On Power, Identity and Art

Farah Nabulsi

“Until the lion learns how to write, the story will always glorify the hunter.”

—AFRICAN PROVERB

FOR MORE THAN 100 years, the Palestinians have suffered oceans of injustice. We are the victims of a relentless ideology, the ultimate goal of which is to ethnically cleanse us from our land. This enormous crime against humanity continues while Western democracies ignore or even support it. They can afford to either ignore or support it because their citizens do not pressure them sufficiently and, therefore, fail to make democracies work the way they are supposed to. Citizens do not pressure their governments enough because most do not understand the realities or context of the conflict, what role they are playing in it and, most notably, they do not empathize enough with the Palestinians. They do not feel our pain enough with us.

As with Apartheid South Africa, it is only through grassroots efforts in the West that we can stop the final ethnic cleansing of Palestine. However, it is not enough for people of goodwill to be mentally engaged in this struggle; they must also be emotionally engaged in order to feel compelled and galvanized into becoming active supporters and members of those grassroots efforts to move their governments to action on our behalf.

Khalil Gibran wrote, “In battling evil, excess is good, for he who is moderate in announcing the truth is presenting half-truth. He conceals the other half out of fear of the people’s wrath.” I am afraid that, in the struggle for Palestine, we have been rather “moderate” in announcing our truth. Understandably, we have been so busy putting out fires, dealing with relief and always reacting from a defensive position, that our narrative has fallen to the wayside. It has, therefore, by and large, not been presented sufficiently, effectively or extensively to the outside world. Without a truthful, evocative, more complete and widely disseminated narrative, how else can we expect to rally people of goodwill to our cause? How can we hope to shift consciousness and consciences, build and scale solidarity, encourage meaningful BDS and achieve a full-scale global movement for freedom, justice and equality? The cause itself is a worthy one by default, so that part is beyond contention.

We, Palestinians, have ended up in this terrible situation for many reasons but a core explanation for its duration and scale, despite our having truth, right and international law on our side, is that political Zionism is a colonial, settler enterprise. It is no secret that all colonists throughout history work extremely hard to ensure the indigenous populations they are colonizing are first dehumanized, then branded as barbarians or terrorists if they resist, and eventually are claimed not to even exist. This is done for both foreign and domestic consumption, so that people of goodwill, worldwide, will not empathize with those populations or will think the issue has ended, following which any and all violations, abuses and atrocities can be carried out against them with neither any recourse for the victims nor punishment for the perpetrators. We know this process has been systematically and meticulously carried out against Palestinians. For our liberation to have a fighting chance, it requires engaging people on a large scale in ways that reverse this dehumanization, arousing their empathy and from that empathy, drawing them into action. Another major requirement for the struggle to succeed is to place our situation in its rightful and actual context. We need to inform and educate people so that Palestinian resistance, revolt, aggression and even violence can no longer be framed as terrorism, barbarism and baseless hatred, but actually be recognized and respected for its decades-long struggle against illegal occupation, its protest against a 14-year siege on Gaza, its outrage against a system of apartheid, its rejection of ongoing war crimes, home demolitions, child arrests, checkpoints, daily humiliations and so much more.

“Until the lion learns how to write, the story will always glorify the hunter.” When I came across this African proverb, I immediately and instinctively thought of Palestine and I knew that, unfortunately, we were the lions in this equation. If we want the true stories of Palestinians to be heard and felt and for people to take action with us and for our cause as a result, then we must tell our stories creatively, authentically, evocatively and certainly beyond our echo chambers.

This is not to say that we do not have, or have not had, our own accomplished, brilliant and esteemed storytellers: our writers, poets, artists, filmmakers, orators and commentators. Rather, we don’t have enough of them. Many have been silenced, killed or have passed away, while others have been forced to dwell in an environment that has not allowed them to flourish. Frankly, our narrative has been hijacked for decades now. If we are not actively and continuously telling and funding the telling of our own stories, then our oppressor and its cronies will exercise control over all narratives, theirs and our own. But today’s new technologies can bypass the traditional gatekeepers of false narratives and project the works of our storytellers much further across the globe than was previously possible.

We will come back to this later. Let us start at the beginning.

I was born, raised and educated in London, but my heritage, my blood is Palestinian. What that means exactly is for another essay in another book … Growing up in the UK, I was never confused about where my family came from or who I was. I was British, born and raised, but my heart and body were pumping with the blood and genes of an Arab—a Palestinian. I knew the plight of the people of Palestine, their struggle for freedom against a relentless colonizer. At the same time, while I have always understood and empathized with the helplessness and victimhood of Jewish people over the centuries—which explains the psychological reasons why some felt the need for a “Jewish homeland”—it has never justified the dispossession and ethnic cleansing of the innocent Palestinians that was involved in creating one. It certainly does not excuse the ongoing oppression, injustice and apartheid that Israel inflicts on Palestinians in order to keep and continue expanding this homeland. Simply as a human being, of this, I am sure.

Throughout my teenage years, I rode my bicycle around Hyde Park in support of medical aid for Palestinian children, participated in Palestinian cultural events and promoted Palestinian charities at my Church of England school (I am Muslim, by the way!). I have held the microphone at rallies and protests at the top of High Street Kensington, and recall smiling and waving at “government” agents hiding on nearby rooftops while taking pictures of us! The chant back then was “1, 2, 3, 4—Occupation No More! 5, 6, 7, 8 Israel is a Terrorist State!” and still is, at protests today. It was also “Sharon, Sharon, what do you say, how many babies have you killed today?” (A chapter about chants and messaging at protests for another day in another book, perhaps!). Despite the occasional protest, charity and sympathy, I went on to become an investment banker and then set up and ran a business for several years.

Fast forward more than 25 years later. I am often asked how I ended up changing the trajectory of my life entirely from the banking and business world to becoming a filmmaker. The short version of the story is simply that I went home.

Growing up in London, I knew what was going on in Palestine or, at least, I thought I did. I had visited a number of times as a child, but from around the age of 10 to 35, not a single visit! We stopped going around the time of the First Intifada and, somehow, I found myself in my mid-thirties having never gone back. It was preposterous, given the privileged position I was in, being able to freely travel to Palestine, unlike the millions of Palestinians who, to this day, still remain in squalid refugee camps, unable to return home. So, I decided to visit.

The deep connection I felt to my ancestral land, coupled with the injustice I was witnessing there, first-hand, hit me, simply as a human being, like a ton of bricks. Whether it was the Israeli checkpoints, their apartheid separation wall plowing through Palestinian lands, towns and villages, the refugee camps, the separate road systems, the watchtowers and illegal colonies on all the hilltops—or the first-hand conversations I was having with mothers whose teenage sons had been taken into Israeli prisons under military detention or sipping tea with families on the ruins of their demolished homes—this first-hand experience literally changed me!

My initial trip was followed by a number of subsequent trips. Though initially not so obvious, a major revelation I had from these visits was that it was crucial to bring people from the West to Palestine to enable them to witness with their own eyes what was really going on. I was certain that this would lead them to finally understand and care about us. This is what ultimately changed the trajectory of my own life and, when I have met Westerners who are active, committed and passionate for Palestinian freedom and rights—sometimes even more so than some Arabs or Palestinians I have met—it is usually because they went and saw the facts on the ground for themselves. In fact, their reactions are usually so overwhelming because they never fathomed such blatant and institutionalized injustice. They are shocked by the extent to which they had previously been un- or misinformed about the cruel reality. For this to really work, though, it would need millions upon millions of people to visit Palestine and see it for themselves. I did the math. For only 20 million people to visit Palestine at, say, $2,000 a person for, say, a flight and one week’s stay, it would cost over $40 billion. For 40 million people—$80 billion! It would take decades to actually accomplish, and they would need to willingly want to go there, in the first place—an urge that itself would have to be created, even before that. Realistically, it would be a financial and logistical impossibility—at least from my point of view!

However, what was a feasible and more economical, intelligent, effective, powerful and achievable alternative was to bring Palestine to them. In their tens of millions all around the world, only asking for, at most, two hours of their time—while packing a huge emotional punch and eye-opening experience through beautiful, powerful cinema! Equipped with a deep desire to express myself creatively, to tell these human stories and a love for film and theater from a young age—my mind was made up. I would become a filmmaker.

Some time ago, I read the following words penned by an art critic that resonated with me and made complete sense: “You cannot make art without a sense of identity, yet it is identity you seek in making art.” Certainly, I chose the art of film as a means of seeking my identity further, but I also chose it because it can serve as the master of advocators.

There are, of course, various forms of advocacy that we should be supporting and doing more of, including but not limited to: political advocacy, media, human rights, BDS and academic advocacy. In my opinion, though, one of—if not the—most important forms of advocacy, because it essentially ignites all those other forms, is artistic advocacy. Artists are able to engage us through film, video, audio and visual installations, poetry and theater, using the full array of human emotions from deep pain to humor. This is because art speaks to the heart and is the medium through which you can humanize and draw empathy. It also paves the way for all other forms of advocacy to be more willingly received.

You need only look at Hollywood and the way Muslims and Arabs have been portrayed in film, for the perfect example of how film can influence people’s perceptions all over the world. Or consider how resistance theater has been cited as a major and powerful factor in influencing the court of public opinion and activating audiences around the globe which, in turn, contributed to marshalling pressure from world governments that ultimately brought an end to apartheid in South Africa.

Take myself as a case study. I chose artistic advocacy in the form of live-action narrative cinema because I knew that I could bring to people’s attention all the facts and figures, truth and proof, maps and international laws under the sun but, unless I had opened people’s hearts, I would not be able to access their minds or activate their ability to reason.

Studies have shown that, even when you provide absolute factual proof to people, if it contradicts what they have been repeatedly told or made to believe, a deep inertia remains. Even in the face of evidence and facts, not only do people still stick to their beliefs but, sometimes, they become even more entrenched in their attitudes and perspectives. However, those same studies have shown that, when you can bring those same people to empathize, if you can address them through their hearts regarding the same topics, views or beliefs, they become far more receptive—and it is empathy that ultimately changes their minds or moves them away from their original positions.

So, speaking to someone’s heart gives you a much better chance of influencing them to understand your perspective and your cause.

Dale Carnegie, the author of How to Win Friends and Influence People. said, “When dealing with people, remember you are not dealing with creatures of logic, but with creatures of emotion.” Referring to UN Resolution 282, 1397 and Resolutions 2254, 2334 and the 4th Geneva Convention, Article 49 is all well and good and very important, but it will only go so far. What really galvanizes people is information that hits them on an emotional level and this can be done effectively through stories. People love stories. We are all attracted to them as human beings. It is in our nature. It is why people enjoy good books or films. It is why we pick up the newspaper every day, watch the news, go on social media or come together for meals. Stories are the currency of life, and with art, there is no limit to the stories you can tell or the ways you can tell them.

My experiences have shown me that people around the world are genuinely open and interested in understanding the plight of Palestinians and our struggle when we speak to their hearts. Whether at film festival Q&As, panel discussions or at universities, people have been welcoming and intrigued by my films. They have not only appreciated the art, but also the truth and reality in which it is laced. They ask questions about the what, why, where and how. When conducted engagingly and resonating on an emotional level, to a standard they are accustomed, attracted and can relate to, audiences and the industry will even award and distribute it. Take our short film, “The Present.” This 24-minute film not only won a BAFTA and was nominated for an Oscar, but on its journey to the pinnacles of the film industry, it received dozens of awards at international film festivals, was distributed on major streaming platforms, was shown on television stations around the world and screened at many cinemas in countless languages. A simple, short film about a Palestinian man and his daughter going to buy a gift in the West Bank but having to grapple with the humiliation of Israeli checkpoints, garnered the attention and coverage, not only of all the major entertainment publishers, but also the likes of CNN, Sky News and the BBC, to name but a few. This included an opinion piece penned by former CIA Director, John Brennan, published in the New York Times and a discussion on CNN with Christiane Amanpour. The film has been distributed across the globe, including with Netflix Worldwide, iTunes and Amazon Prime. Numerous international public figures, celebrities, musicians, fashion models, politicians, academics and beyond, have publicly endorsed the film. As I write these words, over a year and a half since “The Present” premiered in France, the film continues to be shown and pick up awards at festivals and we are still receiving requests to screen and discuss the film nearly every other day. From Brown and Colombia University in the USA to top schools, fundraisers and public events in the UK and beyond, the artistic advocacy continues. It was even used as a film work case study in the educational curriculum across the entire State of Ohio. (Since there are always naysayers, I want to highlight that Netflix and most distributors took on the film months before we were nominated, or even shortlisted, for the Oscars or the BAFTAs). The reason I mention all of this is not to blow my own horn, but to illustrate the power of artistic advocacy. The trajectory of “The Present” is proof to me that there is a space for our bold and authentic stories to engage and flourish in the world arena, and to overwhelm the presently dominant mainstream narrative.

So, back to the lion learning to write—we need to become relentless, fearless lions who become masters of our own narrative, telling our own stories, of which there are so, so many. We do not need to deceive, sensationalize or create melodrama—all things the oppressor has often engaged in—because we have truth and right and international law on our side. We also have a plethora of absurd, engaging and incredible stories you could not make up, even if you tried—decades upon decades of them but, ultimately, the onus is on us to tell them!

Art alone, of course, cannot free Palestine, but I believe that without it, Palestine will never be free! It is the pillar of advocacy upon which all others stand. Films alone cannot change the struggle, but they have their important role in the struggle. They engage and ignite. They have the power to transcend borders, tear down stereotypes and overcome misconceptions and misperceptions. They can garner interest and intrigue, encourage research and further understanding. They pave the way so that people can ultimately “feel” with an oppressed people and be galvanized to take action to end that oppression, for and alongside the oppressed. Of course, a powerful, clear, unified social movement needs to be in place to liberate Palestinians but, for it to grow and build momentum, you need people to feel compelled to join that movement and this requires engagement. Film, in my opinion, is possibly the most powerful, far-reaching artistic medium for engagement and meaningful human communication the world has known.

Retrospectively, many might read this chapter and think that what I have written/expressed here is obvious but, regretfully, it is this very element of soft power that is often left as an afterthought when it comes to investing in the struggle for Palestinian freedom. I also believe, given all the oppression and pressure that Palestinians within Palestine are enduring, that the onus is on Palestinians in exile, and our allies, to carry out the “lion’s share” (pun intended) of this ongoing and growing endeavor, while supporting those Palestinian artists within.

Palestinians will be free one day. I truly believe this. If you look back at the last 50, 20, 10 or 5 years—even the last 12 months—the strides are evident. While on the ground, the situation is truly desperate for Palestinians living under occupation and apartheid, in the court of world opinion, things have never been better. Tipping points are always potentially around a corner. Persistent action towards a united movement is the main ingredient, but a bucket of hope and a large dollop of art complete the recipe. If you have creative talent and a deep sense of justice, I encourage you to apply them towards Palestinian freedom and equality—or be sure to support those who do. I have no doubt that, together, we can make a difference.