Editor’s Note: This interview, conducted by Muhannad Abd al-Hameed, was originally published in the Spring 2021 issue of Majallat al-Dirasat al-Filastiniyya (IPS’ Arabic-language Journal of Palestine Studies). It is translated into English for the Palestine Square blog by Laila AlQaddumi; translation edited by Laura Albast.

The Israeli military invasion of Jenin camp and the entire West Bank raised political, legal, humanitarian, and security questions about the Israeli occupation of Palestine on a global scale. Yet, it posed only one question to the Israeli regime and the majority of Israeli society: the question of Israeli security.

Israel’s myopic fixation on the security question reflects a profound indifference to the enduring and crushing consequences the Occupation has imposed on  millions of Palestinians. It is this asymmetry in power that the Palestinian filmmaker and theater actor Mohammad Bakri sought to address in his documentary film, “Jenin, Jenin,” using imagery and the language of those affected, to call for an end to the Occupation, which has been the primary cause for recurring humanitarian catastrophes, hatred, oppression, plunder, death, discrimination, and violence. 

Bakri set out from Nazareth to Jenin, accompanied by cinematographer Ramez Kazmouz and sound engineer Nasr. The journey took several hours as the crew attempted to evade Occupation forces deployed inside and around the city of Jenin. They were able to enter Jenin refugee camp just after it had emerged from a fierce battle and had been declared a closed military zone, entry forbidden. 

In Jenin, dust from the destroyed buildings, the smell of death, and the stench of exploding rockets filled the air. People wandered cautiously among the ruins of their camp, gathering remains from beneath demolished buildings and assessing their losses. Just moving around was dangerous due to unexploded shells and mines, snipers on alert, and military vehicles that still tightly controlled parts of the city of Jenin.

Bakri wanted to present the residents of Jenin’s narrative before the blood had dried, and he succeeded. The film “Jenin, Jenin” circulated at record speed, generating solidarity with a people resisting their occupiers with unyielding will, and condemnation of the aggression, the aggressors, and their crimes against a defenseless people. Israel’s ban on the film only heightened its impact and reach, contrary to the occupiers’ desire to monopolize the narrative of the executioner. 

Majallat al-Dirasat al-Filastiniyya (the Arabic Journal of Palestine Studies) spoke with Mohammad Bakri about the battle over the film “Jenin, Jenin” following the Israeli court’s decision to ban its screening and destroy it. In the interview, Bakri discusses the hidden dimensions of the Palestinian struggle, which impacts all aspects of life, including art and culture.

The Israeli court decided to confiscate all copies of “Jenin, Jenin” and ordered you, as the film’s director, to pay compensation of $55,000, in addition to $15,000 in legal costs to the plaintiff, Nissim Magnaji, a reserve officer in the Occupation army. The court accused you of libel, distorting events, and presenting the Palestinian narrative as the sole truth. They also charged you with falsifying facts by accusing the Occupation army of committing war crimes, as though committing war crimes is acceptable, and documenting them is the real crime. How do you view this from a legal perspective, and why did the Israeli court ignore the testimonies you documented from inside the camp, while also dismissing reports by international, local, and Israeli human rights organizations?

I will begin answering this question by referring to the Israeli government’s reaction to the International Criminal Court’s decision recognizing its jurisdiction over the situation in Palestine and over the territories occupied by Israel since 1967, specifically Gaza and the West Bank, including East Jerusalem. This decision, which could lead to Israeli officials and generals being tried for war crimes in the occupied Palestinian territories, terrified Israel, making it turn the world upside down, so to speak. Netanyahu said the court’s decision was based on lies and motivated by antisemitism — the same response that is repeated anytime Israeli violations and crimes are criticized.

The accusation of antisemitism over “Jenin, Jenin” is similar to what happened with the film “Hanna K.” in 1983, directed by Costa-Gavras, in which I starred alongside American actress Jill Clayburgh. Israeli circles accused Costa-Gavras of antisemitism and published a detailed thirty-point objection, translated into several languages, claiming that the film was antisemitic and called for the destruction of Israel, even though the film tried to be objective. But because the film raised the issue of the Palestinian right of return — for the first time in world cinema — it was deemed a threat to Israel’s existence. I remember standing with my wife in Paris outside a cinema on the Champs-Élysées during the film’s premiere, and someone called the theater saying there was a bomb threat. Naturally, everyone panicked, and the screening was cancelled. 

To return to the question: the Central District Court in Lod gave complete freedom to the plaintiff’s lawyer and his two witnesses to accuse me of lying. They claimed that the film was nothing but lies from beginning to end, that it was a work of science fiction with no bearing in reality, a pure distortion of the truth. They ignored the fact that bulldozers destroyed the center of the camp while residents were still inside their homes; they ignored the pregnant woman who was shot by a sniper, and who later could not breastfeed her child because of her injuries; they also ignored the disabled man in a wheelchair who was buried under the rubble.

They ignored the victims’ suffering, which the film conveyed truthfully. What is worse is that detractors of the film claimed that the people in the film were reading from a script I had written, alleging that I fabricated stories and put them into people’s mouths. I spent five days filming in a place devastated after two weeks of continuous bombardment, during which, as one witness said, the Israeli military alternated their troops three times, taking turns to attack. I’ll conclude by asking: are the testimonies of B’Tselem and other human rights organizations not enough proof of what happened in Jenin camp? They documented crimes that were immediately verified, like the killing of Iyad al-Hallaq, a man with autism, and the murder of Abdel Fattah al-Sharif while he was taking his last breath, instead of being given medical aid. Is the truth owned by anyone? In the Israeli mindset, whoever owns power owns the truth.

In the Israeli Worldview, Whoever Holds Power Holds the Truth

After the Jenin camp catastrophe, the Israeli government refused to implement the UN Security Council’s call for an independent international investigation team, and also rejected the testimonies presented in “Jenin, Jenin”. How is it that the Israeli government is consistently placed above the law, able to act as both the judge and the jury? Why does Israel repeatedly refuse impartial investigations into massacres, including the Goldstone Report on crimes in Gaza, using accusations of antisemitism against anyone who criticizes the Occupation’s crimes?

Let me use a popular proverb: “The chicken thief is always touching his head,” fearing that a feather might be stuck there. They stole the land and claimed historical ownership based on an exclusionary ideology; anyone who rejects this is labeled an aggressor and heretic and must be excluded to ensure their continued existence. Unfortunately, the international system does not hold them accountable, and many Arab states ally with them unconditionally.

The world continues to pay Israel reparations for the Holocaust and places them above the law. It is no surprise, then, that they ignore UN resolutions and human rights reports. They claim to own the truth, and anyone who challenges them is labeled a liar and an antisemite. They monopolize eternal victimhood, claiming to be the only victims in the world, with all others incomparable. This is evident in Israel’s stance toward victims of other massacres, such as the Armenian Genocide of 1915, which Israel has yet to recognize. They do this not only to preserve relations with Turkey but also to maintain a monopoly on victimhood that justifies crimes and excessive force under the banner of security. This instrumental logic contradicts international law, the UN Charter, and the reality, which is that Israel possesses military power far exceeding any genuine security need.

Israelis Ignore the Existence of An Occupation

Israeli political and media discourse justifies the destruction of parts of the Jenin camp, the old city of Nablus, and other areas, as well as the killing of resistance fighters and civilians and the renewed displacement of thousands of Palestinians, under the pretext of protecting Israeli towns attacked by Palestinians. Why does the Israeli establishment ignore its role in denying legitimate Palestinian rights recognized by international law, inflaming the conflict through Occupation, settlement, domination of another people, and closing all political solutions? How do you see this, given that you are accused of ignoring Israeli reasons for invading the Jenin camp in your film? And what is the truth about the archival footage showing the Israeli officer?

Israeli political and media discourse portrayed the 2002 invasions of West Bank cities and camps and the destruction of Palestinian infrastructure during the operation dubbed “Defensive Shield” as a response to Palestinian [suicide] bombings inside Israel, claiming the goal was Israeli security. This narrative was promoted globally and, unfortunately, found receptive ears in Western countries, especially among the Bush administration. These states ignored the real cause fueling the conflict: the Occupation of Palestinian land, domination of a people, deprivation of freedom, and plundering of resources. They ignore that the Occupation is the catalyst for the Palestinians’ responses — whether through literature, poetry, art, peaceful protest, or resistance. Israelis never ask themselves what drives hundreds of young men to sacrifice their lives. They never examine their role in suffocating, humiliating, and oppressing Palestinians and closing political horizons, thereby contributing — along with other factors — to the phenomenon of suicide attacks. Palestinians paid a heavy price when Israel used these attacks to justify building the apartheid separation wall. Yet Israel never asked why violence persisted in other forms, such as stabbings and car rammings, nor why resistance continues in diverse forms. As long as Occupation, settlement, and colonial domination persist, cycles of violence and resistance will continue until freedom is achieved, just as history has shown for all colonized peoples.

As for the “archival shot” used by the Israeli officer and upheld by the court: documentaries commonly use archival footage. All films about world wars use archival footage. I used an archival image supporting testimonies; I did not imply that the soldier in the image committed the act.

The Occupation army that invades Palestinian land daily is accused of violations every day. Soldiers come to arrest or kill, to protect settlers who steal land and uproot trees, to demolish homes, confiscate land, suppress protesters, and perpetuate catastrophe. They do not come as tourists.

The ‘Sacred Executioner’ Monopolizes Victimhood

There are always two narratives in the ‘Palestinian–Israeli conflict’. “Jenin, Jenin” presented the victims’ narrative. Those shown were victims expressing pain and suffering, while Israeli courts and media adopted the soldiers’ narrative. How do you see this contradiction?

I deliberately avoided portraying Palestinian heroism or fighters. I did not film combatants or focus on resistance; I left viewers to read between scenes. I wanted to expose collective punishment inflicted on camp residents — children, women, elders — people not responsible for attacks. I did not present officials, factions, or human rights organizations.

Why were the lives of Jenin Camp’s residents destroyed and plunged into a new Nakba? Why are victims forbidden from being victims, while the “sacred executioner” and the colonizer monopolize victimhood? In “Jenin, Jenin,” I wanted these people to tell their stories freely. These testimonies resonated because they were honest and were supported by visible devastation: destroyed homes, graves, people wounded and homeless, the smell of death, all under military presence. This angered the Israeli establishment, which recognizes only one narrative: its own.

While producing the film, I attempted to interview the driver of the ‘Caterpillar D9’ bulldozer that demolished the homes, but I found him too proud of what he had done, agitated while recounting his experience, so I excluded him to avoid reducing the Occupation’s crimes to a single soldier. He was merely a cog in a massive machine responsible for a policy of excluding Palestinians and bringing calamities upon them. Moreover, the Israeli narrative already dominates the media, while the Palestinian narrative is marginalized. All my life, I have heard, read, and watched the Israeli narrative; Israelis have produced hundreds of films that deny the existence of Palestinians, that consider our rejection of the occupation and demand for our rights as a threat to their existence, a form of antisemitism.  I chose to set aside the ever-present Israeli narrative and instead present the Palestinian narrative, absent or relegated to the margins of the media and cultural landscape. This is what enraged them.

Therefore, I decided to turn away from a powerful, omnipresent Israeli narrative and to present the Palestinian narrative that is absent — or present only on the margins of the media and cultural scene. This is what angered them: we hear their narratives and respond with ours, while they try to impose a single narrative.

The Camp’s Children Die in Play and in Reality

According to principles of human rights and children’s rights, children should not be drawn into this kind of violence so that they do not lose their childhood. However, the Occupation army, which targeted the camp centers with rockets, tank shells, sniper bullets, and the ‘Caterpillar D9’ bulldozer, made children part of the disaster that befell the camp. Yet, in contrast, the presence of children’s opinions and testimonies in the film was striking. What message do you wish to convey by including them?

While wandering the ruins of the Jenin Camp, I saw children playing a disturbing game — carrying one another on a stretcher like those used for martyrs, chanting “the martyr is beloved by God.” It was heartbreaking. Children were leaping out of childhood, dying both in play and in reality. This was the case of Najwa Jalamneh, 12, whom I discovered by chance while she was sitting on her cousin’s grave. Her cousin was 12 when he was killed. She did not join the children in their game and initially refused to give her testimony. When she began to speak, she spoke in the language of adults, like many children under the Occupation whose childhoods had been stolen. Najwa wanted to challenge her occupiers before ever hearing Ghassan Kanafani’s saying, “Do not die before you become a worthy adversary.” Through Najwa and through the martyr’s game, I wanted to show that one of the worst consequences of Israel’s war is how children are ripped from their childhood. Children should be protected from war; they should be in parks, playgrounds, and libraries. 

Children are the future, and I wanted to show  that children do not forget their rights or their cause, contrary to the Israeli saying, “The old will die, and the young will forget.” I also wanted to show how collective punishment spares no one, not the old or the young; they all pay the same price.

Using Film as a Narrative Tool Enabled Its Reach

Usually, the Occupation authorities pay little attention to Palestinian media and political discourse, believing it to be weak or ineffective. However, when the Palestinian narrative was presented through art — cinema and theater, and earlier through poetry, literature, and academia — the authorities went into a frenzy and declared war on the film. Based on your experience in theater and cinema, how do you view the importance of art and culture and their ability to influence perceptions, including their impact within Israeli society?

Since I live inside the Green Line, or what is called “inside the inside,”  I was often surprised to hear a considerable number of Israelis say that the play “The Pessoptimist,” based on Emile Habibi’s masterpiece which I performed on stage, changed their views on certain issues or made them think in a different way. The same applies to other works that artists belonging to the Israeli left adapted into artistic productions in the 1970s and 1980s. There are also the two works Men in the Sun and Returning to Haifa by the novelist Ghassan Kanafani, and the film Gate of the Sun directed by Yousry Nasrallah and based on the novel by Elias Khoury. Art has the power to influence. Plays like “The Pessoptimist” and films like “Jenin, Jenin” moved audiences, even inside Israel. I witnessed silence and tears at screenings. While extremists attacked the film, others defended it. Art can humanize, challenge ideology, and influence global opinion, which is why the Israeli establishment fears it. 

When “Jenin, Jenin” was shown in Tel Aviv, extremists gathered and tried to prevent the screening, continuing to raise slogans and chant against the film and against me until the cinema management asked the police to remove them from the hall. After that, I sensed a kind of engagement with the film. I don’t mean a change in Israeli public opinion — let us admit that art alone cannot change viewpoints among the Israeli majority, who are deeply entrenched in the colonial religious and nationalist right. The Israeli establishment and government are those who shape Israeli public opinion, and they operate based on their own interests and ambitions and are against change. But we can influence global public opinion, and we can affect the people who are committed to human rights, justice, equality, and opposition to occupation and racism in Israel.  Through committed and professional art, we can challenge the Israeli narrative, expose its lies, and make incremental changes. I was deeply moved by the testimony of Israeli director Ram Levi, one of the most prominent Israeli film directors and the director of the film “Khirbet Khizeh,” who insisted on giving a statement at the Lod court despite suffering from Parkinson’s disease. He told the court: “You have no right to try Bakri, this is an infringement on the freedom of expression and democracy…I served  in Gaza and witnessed war crimes worse than  Jenin.” 

Israeli documentary filmmakers’ unions also expressed solidarity.

Since the declaration of war on your film, you have received support and advocacy on multiple levels. What are your thoughts on the supportive polarization around the film, and how can it be developed further?

The Israeli campaign against the film backfired, spreading the Palestinian narrative globally and building solidarity.  The most eloquent response came from Arab filmmakers who celebrated the film after it won the Best Documentary Film Award at the Carthage International Film Festival in 2003. Another prominent solidarity campaign was launched from Italy in 2008, through a petition signed by a large group of Italian filmmakers, including Giuseppe Bertolucci, Saverio Costanzo, and Moni Ovadia.

The reception, solidarity, and celebration among Palestinians, especially in the Jenin camp, were very special and met with warmth. I was deeply saddened to hear of the death of Iyad Al-Sumoudi, who was my host and guide throughout filming and to whom I granted an honorary producer position on the film. 

Palestinian artists issued a petition of support and solidarity in the face of the fierce Israeli attack on the film, and the Palestinian Ministry of Culture and Minister of Culture Atef Abu Saif took an honorable, supportive stand for me.

After the court’s unjust ruling was announced, I received hundreds of calls and donations. The support from Palestinian camps, artists, ministries, and international filmmakers reaffirmed that this was not just my battle. It was a battle for culture, narrative, and freedom of expression.

In conclusion, we will not surrender, and we will continue to resist through art.