“Arna’s Children” is a moving film. It is, in part a tribute to Arna Mer-Khamis a member of the Israeli Communist Party and the founder of Jenin Freedom Theatre and in part the story of the Palestinian children, who Arna had loved as her own. Her son, Juliano Mer-Khamis, an actor and filmmaker who was shot dead on April 4, 2011 in Jenin, Palestine, made the film. As a small group of people sat inside a darkened room in the University of Berkeley, California, on April 29, 2011 Prof. Judith Butler spoke about her friend Juliano and how she still found it difficult to believe that he was no longer alive. Indeed, he seemed larger than life in the short film “The Freedom Theatre Today” that was screened just before “Arna’s Children”.
“We teach the children that they can use theatre to talk back to oppressor”, said a bearded Juliano, in the short documentary on the Freedom Theatre, “because Israel is telling them that they have to be on their knees”, he said, with the noble outrage that only the brave can muster in desperate times. Indeed, Israel wishes to subjugate, suppress and ensure that the Palestinian people lose whatever little dignity they have left. Readers of Morung Express who have been bullied and push around at various army check-posts in Northeast India, would only have to imagine a life that is several times more regulated; where the right to life and property can be taken away in the blink of an eye. Jenin, where Arna Mer-Khamis decided to set up a theatre for children, is a place where life and liberty are secured by force and enforced by tanks, helicopters and big guns by the Israeli Defence Forces (IDF) on one side, and by faith, stones, a few knocked-up AK47s and immense faith, by the Palestinian denizens of the city, on the other.
“Arna’s Children” begins with a shot of Arna wearing her trademark kaffiyeh – partly against the sun and partly to cover her scalp that had been shorn of hair following chemotherapy – railing at Israeli guards and asking motorists to beep their car horns, as a protest against the government of Israel’s decision to build that infamous apartheid wall through Palestinian territory. It goes on to show how this remarkable woman, a one-time member of the Jewish underground paramilitary force, Palmach, began her work among children whose houses had been demolished by the IDF. She battled heat and cold, pulling nervous children out of their seats into their designated places; shepherding people from one room into another and singing songs of resistance, even as cancer consumed her body. Her son Juliano followed her life and work with his camera, occasionally finding himself in front of it, explaining a finer detail of acting to precocious boys. Somewhere into the first quarter of the film, the boys begin to speak to the camera.
Their story is as tragic, as it is filled with hope. As Juliano’s camera follow the lives of a group of boys, the viewer gets a glimpse of undiluted agony filled with inspiring optimism. There are moments of surprising humour, when Juliano is interviewing the boys about politics in Jenin and what they think of his mother: “I like (Arna) like my mother, no more than my mother”, says a serious looking boy “but I wondered about you and thought you were a Jewish spy”, he ends breaking out into nervous giggles. Or the time when a group of Israeli television journalists, reporting on the success of the theatre, asks a boy if he would like to be Romeo and he replies immediately: “Yes, a Palestinian Romeo and hopefully there will be a Juliet here in Jenin who is a cousin”.
This young boy, as many of those who were part of Arna Mer-Khamis’ commendable attempt to bring hope into the lives of those who had been battered emotionally, politically and physically by the Israeli state, ended up becoming a martyr in the ‘Battle of Jenin’ in 2002. Juliano’s camera and the narration left the children and Jenin after the death of his mother and returned following the conflict 2002, when the IDF and Palestinians fought over the control of Jenin and other towns in the West Bank. He found Arna’s students – scattered, defiant and angry – as they recounted how the companions of their youth made difficult, often heroic though tragic decisions to become suicide bombers and members of the Palestinian resistance.
It is not a judgemental film, as Prof. Butler reminded the audience back in Berkeley. The audience was moved, but as is wont in inquisitive bastions of liberal thought, they wanted to know if Juliano (and the editors of the film) were responsible for glossing over ideological underpinnings of the protagonists, when they made it clear that they would take to arms to defend their broken town. Some members of the audience wanted to know the identity of those who had assassinated Juliano Mer-Khamis. Judith Butler, ever patient, explained that she had met some of the protagonists during her last visit to Palestine and they had explained to her two things: first, when weapons are not backed by values, the struggle loses its soul; second, art and theatre are not substitutes for the real business of resistance, even though they contribute immensely to it.
Occupation of subjugated peoples looks the same everywhere. Over long periods, it recreates conditions that impose more chains on the colonised. Jenin, one was told, is a hotbed of conservative Islam and that Juliano had run into some problems with his staunchly secular ideals. Even as the main parties in Jenin and the Palestinian Authority condemn the assassination, the students of Jenin Freedom Theatre have written a beautiful obituary for their slain mentor. There, they say that they will continue to work for the cultural revolution in Palestine and that they will never forget his contribution. As readers of Morung Express will bear testimony, when a death occurs in occupied lands, the first thing that people do is explain how the death came about. Their next line of reasoning is to explain why this death occurred. Later, only after they have explained the conditions that created the grounds for the tragic death, do they begin to talk about who committed the crime. Even as the world grapples with the news of an independent, disgruntled former member of Al-Aqsa Brigade (an offshoot of the Palestinian resistance groups) pulled the trigger to kill Juliano Mer-Khamis, those who have seen Arna’s Children will remain convinced that Israel’s occupation of the West Banks (and Gaza) that created the conditions for his assassination.
(For those interested in The Jenin Freedom Theatre, please check http://www.thefreedomtheatre.org/ for more details).
“We teach the children that they can use theatre to talk back to oppressor”, said a bearded Juliano, in the short documentary on the Freedom Theatre, “because Israel is telling them that they have to be on their knees”, he said, with the noble outrage that only the brave can muster in desperate times. Indeed, Israel wishes to subjugate, suppress and ensure that the Palestinian people lose whatever little dignity they have left. Readers of Morung Express who have been bullied and push around at various army check-posts in Northeast India, would only have to imagine a life that is several times more regulated; where the right to life and property can be taken away in the blink of an eye. Jenin, where Arna Mer-Khamis decided to set up a theatre for children, is a place where life and liberty are secured by force and enforced by tanks, helicopters and big guns by the Israeli Defence Forces (IDF) on one side, and by faith, stones, a few knocked-up AK47s and immense faith, by the Palestinian denizens of the city, on the other.
“Arna’s Children” begins with a shot of Arna wearing her trademark kaffiyeh – partly against the sun and partly to cover her scalp that had been shorn of hair following chemotherapy – railing at Israeli guards and asking motorists to beep their car horns, as a protest against the government of Israel’s decision to build that infamous apartheid wall through Palestinian territory. It goes on to show how this remarkable woman, a one-time member of the Jewish underground paramilitary force, Palmach, began her work among children whose houses had been demolished by the IDF. She battled heat and cold, pulling nervous children out of their seats into their designated places; shepherding people from one room into another and singing songs of resistance, even as cancer consumed her body. Her son Juliano followed her life and work with his camera, occasionally finding himself in front of it, explaining a finer detail of acting to precocious boys. Somewhere into the first quarter of the film, the boys begin to speak to the camera.
Their story is as tragic, as it is filled with hope. As Juliano’s camera follow the lives of a group of boys, the viewer gets a glimpse of undiluted agony filled with inspiring optimism. There are moments of surprising humour, when Juliano is interviewing the boys about politics in Jenin and what they think of his mother: “I like (Arna) like my mother, no more than my mother”, says a serious looking boy “but I wondered about you and thought you were a Jewish spy”, he ends breaking out into nervous giggles. Or the time when a group of Israeli television journalists, reporting on the success of the theatre, asks a boy if he would like to be Romeo and he replies immediately: “Yes, a Palestinian Romeo and hopefully there will be a Juliet here in Jenin who is a cousin”.
This young boy, as many of those who were part of Arna Mer-Khamis’ commendable attempt to bring hope into the lives of those who had been battered emotionally, politically and physically by the Israeli state, ended up becoming a martyr in the ‘Battle of Jenin’ in 2002. Juliano’s camera and the narration left the children and Jenin after the death of his mother and returned following the conflict 2002, when the IDF and Palestinians fought over the control of Jenin and other towns in the West Bank. He found Arna’s students – scattered, defiant and angry – as they recounted how the companions of their youth made difficult, often heroic though tragic decisions to become suicide bombers and members of the Palestinian resistance.
It is not a judgemental film, as Prof. Butler reminded the audience back in Berkeley. The audience was moved, but as is wont in inquisitive bastions of liberal thought, they wanted to know if Juliano (and the editors of the film) were responsible for glossing over ideological underpinnings of the protagonists, when they made it clear that they would take to arms to defend their broken town. Some members of the audience wanted to know the identity of those who had assassinated Juliano Mer-Khamis. Judith Butler, ever patient, explained that she had met some of the protagonists during her last visit to Palestine and they had explained to her two things: first, when weapons are not backed by values, the struggle loses its soul; second, art and theatre are not substitutes for the real business of resistance, even though they contribute immensely to it.
Occupation of subjugated peoples looks the same everywhere. Over long periods, it recreates conditions that impose more chains on the colonised. Jenin, one was told, is a hotbed of conservative Islam and that Juliano had run into some problems with his staunchly secular ideals. Even as the main parties in Jenin and the Palestinian Authority condemn the assassination, the students of Jenin Freedom Theatre have written a beautiful obituary for their slain mentor. There, they say that they will continue to work for the cultural revolution in Palestine and that they will never forget his contribution. As readers of Morung Express will bear testimony, when a death occurs in occupied lands, the first thing that people do is explain how the death came about. Their next line of reasoning is to explain why this death occurred. Later, only after they have explained the conditions that created the grounds for the tragic death, do they begin to talk about who committed the crime. Even as the world grapples with the news of an independent, disgruntled former member of Al-Aqsa Brigade (an offshoot of the Palestinian resistance groups) pulled the trigger to kill Juliano Mer-Khamis, those who have seen Arna’s Children will remain convinced that Israel’s occupation of the West Banks (and Gaza) that created the conditions for his assassination.
(For those interested in The Jenin Freedom Theatre, please check http://www.thefreedomtheatre.org/ for more details).
(Dr. Sanjay (Xonzoi) Barbora is an academician and activist working on issues of human rights, justice and peace. He is the former Regional Manager (Conflict and Media programme) for Panos Institute South Asia and is currently based in the United States of America)
