Maureen Clare Murphy

Shortly after he moved to Kibbutz Dalia in central Israel in 1967, photographer Ryuichi Hirokawa stumbled upon some “white stones scattered in rubble.” He asked the residents of the kibbutz about the origins of the stones, but he never received a satisfactory answer. Through Hirokawa’s quest to unearth the origins of those white stones he learned the story of Palestine, and it is this lifelong journey that he presents in his documentary Palestine 1948 Nakba, reviewed for The Electronic Intifada by Maureen Clare Murphy.

“You begin to suspect that there is something extremely odd going on … it is deeply disturbing,” says Alison Weir, narrator of the new documentary Occupation 101, on what one experiences as soon as they read between the lines of news reports from Israel/Palestine. The film indeed succeeds in instilling this feeling in its viewers. The chronology of the conflict is explained through snappily edited interviews with activists, journalists, clergy people, and others, while richly illustrated by archive footage and photographs. EI’s Maureen Clare Murphy reviews.

Hamid Dabashi, founder of the Dreams of a Nation: A Palestinian Film Project, has said that one of the distinguishing qualities of Palestinian national cinema is that it has and continues to be produced during the throes of trauma. This stands apart from other national cinema (German, Italian, and Iranian, to name a few) which came to maturity through dealing with past national trauma. However, there has never been a Palestinian-produced feature film focusing on the Nakba. Yet, the Nakba is at the core of Palestinian cinema, as exemplified by the Palestinian Revolution Cinema series curated by Palestinian artist Emily Jacir.

What role can music play in confronting the Israeli occupation? This is the question posed yet not definitively answered in Helena Cotinier and Pierre-Nicolas Durand’s documentary It’s Not a Gun, which follows Palestinian musician Ramzi Aburedwan as he realizes his dream of establishing a music education school in Palestine as part of his al-Kamandjati (meaning “the violinist”) project. Ramzi, who grew up in Ramallah’s Al-Amari refugee camp, says, “I spent my whole childhood during the first intifada throwing stones. And then, by chance, I had the [opportunity] to play music.”

The short films featured at this year’s Chicago Palestine Film Festival neatly demonstrate the wide spectrum of Palestinian cinema and cinema on Palestine. The shorts range from a contemplation of the mloukhieh dish (don’t make the mistake of comparing it to spinach!) to a young Palestinian boy in America trying to join the ranks of the cowboys in his neighborhood’s play of “cowboys and Indians.” Showing with Leila Khaled, Hijacker the opening night of the festival, Make A Wish stands out amongst the shorts.

When she hijacked two planes over thirty years ago, refugee Leila Khaled helped put the Palestinian struggle on the international radar. A generation later, however, the realization of Palestinians’ rights is elusive as ever and the tactics of their resistance are increasingly scrutinized. The limits of resistance are examined in Ronit Avni and Julia Bacha’s documentary Encounter Point as well as Lina Makboul’s Leila Khaled, Hijacker.

Both Salwa Salem’s and Ghada Karmi’s childhoods were violently disrupted by what Palestinians call al-Nakba, or the Catastrophe — the involuntary mass exodus of nearly three quarters of the Palestinian population when the State of Israel was established in 1948. Marking the destruction of their country, this event would define their lives as ones of exile. In their respective memoirs, The Wind in My Hair and In Search of Fatima: A Palestinian Story, Salem and Karmi recall idyllic childhoods in Palestine before 1948 in a society rich with culture and defined by the extended family. Their individual experiences, chronicled in their engrossing works, give a window into that of a generation of Palestinians born into dispossession.