“A la memoria de los seres más próximos entre los seis millones de asesinados por los nacional-socialistas, al lado de los millones y millones de humanos de todas las confesiones y todas las naciones, víctimas del mismo odio del otro hombre, del mismo antisemitismo”.
Emmanuel Levinas
Centenares de niñas y niños han perdido la vida durante la ofensiva en curso del ejército de Israel en Gaza. Ese solo dato, al margen de análisis, posturas y filiaciones, debiera bastar para que todas las personas de buena voluntad en el mundo sintieran vergüenza por esta guerra y por todas las guerras. El hecho es sobradamente intolerable como para hacernos ver la urgencia de una solución a ese conflicto que los gobernantes y dirigentes no han podido o no han querido construir y que, posiblemente, no construirán en décadas. Si las víctimas israelíes de los ataques con cohetes lanzados desde Gaza fueron el pretexto para desencadenar la ofensiva, las bajas palestinas serán el fermento para nuevos ataques contra Israel.
Pero, así como desde el dolor se ha alimentado el afán bélico, creemos que es posible transformar el sufrimiento de nuestros semejantes en una base para la fraternidad y la convivencia, a condición de que seamos capaces de aproximarnos a ese sufrimiento y que tratemos de percibir lo que sienten las víctimas.
Con este propósito hemos decidido asumirnos como deudos de algunas de las niñas y de los niños que han muerto en esta ofensiva. Estamos dispuestos a dar testimonio de su ausencia y a honrar su recuerdo: adoptaremos, cada uno de nosotros, a un menor fallecido en la ofensiva.
Será, de ahora en adelante, parte de nuestra familia. Procuraremos comunicarnos con sus familiares para compartir su devastación. Trataremos de conocer mejor a nuestros pequeños muertos, de averiguar detalles de su vida, de tener una foto con nosotros. Contaremos a nuestros amigos y a nuestros conocidos que en la ofensiva del ejército de Israel en Gaza nos mataron a un niño al que queremos mucho.
La iniciativa “Adopta a un niño muerto” busca interpelar a la conciencia de cada persona como un llamado a la responsabilidad para con el otro; es una respuesta caracterizada por la gratuidad, la no-reciprocidad, la asimetría y la incondicionalidad. Porque a la palabra veraz ante esta forma de “odio del otro hombre” no le alcanza con la indignación moralista, sino que moralmente está obligada a confesar su indignidad.
Los niños muertos no dejan de crecer. Para bien o para mal, sus trayectorias rotas siguen germinando en los que se quedan: acaban por volverse un peso insoportable o bien un fundamento de vínculos y vida. Adoptar a un niño muerto significa comprometerse a testimoniar por él. Tal vez el testimonio, en tanto palabra dada al otro logre tender un puente, una promesa de cierto lazo amoroso capaz de desplomar al “antisemitismo” definido por Levinas.
Pretendemos detener la conversión del dolor de ambos pueblos en combustible adicional para la guerra y transformar a los muertos de los dos bandos en semillas de paz. Por eso hoy emprendemos esta iniciativa.
Sabina Alazraki, Ana Belén Alfaro Murillo, Marcela Alvarez Pérez, Jessica Bekerman, Marcelo Bergman, Carlos Beutel, Fanny Blank Cereijido, Bony Blum, Gloria Bonder, Leo Bracho, Alejandro Brauer, Néstor Braunstein, Andrea Bustamante, Pilar Calveiro, Rossana Cassigoli Salamon, Daniel Cazés Menache, Ma. del Carmen Cervantes, Ana C. Jácome, Leonardo F. Cienfuegos, Adriana Cruz, Dulce Cuellar, Rubén Chababo, Raquel Child, Steven Czitrom, Santiago Derbez, Shula Erenberg, Adriana Espinosa, José Frank, Margit Frenk, Mabel García Dejean, Marcela García Probert, Francesca Gargallo, Alicia Gerschanik, Boris Gerson, José Antonio Salvador Gómez del Campo, Adriana González Mateos, Dulce María Ganja Castro, Enrique Guinsberg Blank, Mathew Gutmann, Raquel Hiller, Laura Imperiale, Patricia Jacobs, Paola Jalife, Carolina Kerlow, Marie Laversin, Susana Lerner Sigal, Adalberto Levi Hambra, Bela Límenes, Bruno Límenes, Manuela Límenes, Marcos Límenes, Sandra Lorenzano, Rosa María Lule Cruz, Carolina Luyando, Mariana Masera, Pedro Miguel, Márgara Millán, Eduardo Mosches, Adriana Muñoz Alarcón, Viviana Nardoni, Marcelo Pasternac, Mario Pecheny, Montserrat Peñaloza Trejo, Grecia Pinto, Silvana Rabinovich, Manuel Reynoso de la Paz, Mónica Ríos Saloma, Silviana Rivera, Annunziata Rossi, Jane Rubin-Kurtzman, Yamila Sladogna, Ilán Semo, Ivonne Rosa Szasz, Mónica Szurmuk, Manuel Tejeda Reyes, Marcela Tejeda, Marko Tocilovac, Lilyán de la Vega, Fanny Unikel, Inés Westphalen, Gabriela Wolochwianski, Mireya Zapata, Daniel Zappi, Danielle Zaslavsky
¡Por fin llega esta película! Gracias Jessica. Si tienes información de su estreno en México por favor publícala.
ResponderEliminarAhi está el vínculo con la página del FICCO, dedicada al film. Igual, según la programación, se proyecta:
ResponderEliminarFeb 18 / 21:00 en Antara
Feb 21 / 12:30 en Plaza Insurgentes
Feb 24 / 21:00 en Altavista
Feb 27 / 21:30 en WTC
¿Alguién sabe cómo ingresar los link, de modo que se pueda clickear en ellos?
Fragmento del libro de Lev Grinberg relacionado
ResponderEliminarPolitics and Violence in Israel/Palestine (Routledge, July 2009):
Waltz Without a Partner[1]
By Lev Luis Grinberg
Waltz with Bashir and Z32 are two recent Israeli films (2008) that represent a new genre, one that could be called "documentary horror comedy."[i] Both deal with IDF soldiers' memories of war atrocities, the madness of violence, the banality of state commands, and the impotence of veteran soldiers and of the filmmakers – in short, the impotence of Israeli civil society vis-à-vis the arbitrariness of the state. To make the soldiers' testimonies less gruesome and to get some distance from the violent descriptions, the directors borrowed techniques from other genres: Waltz with Bashir became an "animated documentary" and Z32 became a "documentary musical" in which even the director sings in an ironic, cabaret style. These movies well exemplify the lack of hope and inability to even imagine a non-violent reality in Israel since 2000, a situation that became evident to most Israelis as a result of the second Lebanon War in August 2006. At the end of the most consensual war since 1967, Israeli public debate became completely apolitical with only military options discussed. The Winograd Commission of Inquiry, established by public pressure to investigate the failure of the war, did not even ask whether there could have been a nonviolent option following the abduction of two soldiers by the Hezbollah. The commission only discussed the decision-making process and "managerial" mistakes of the political and military echelons, suggesting how to manage a more efficient and successful war in the future. Indeed the military and politicians prepared themselves to re-construct the deterrence power of Israel in a more effective war. After three weeks of "Operation Cast Lead", and 1300 Palestinians killed in January 2009, military and political leaders declared: that the lessons of Lebanon II where internalized and that Israel's deterrent force was restored.
Palestinian filmmakers discovered the hopeless political reality before the Israelis, apparently after 11 September 2001 and the re-occupation of the West Bank. The films Paradise Now (2005) and Divine Intervention (2002) reflect the impossible Palestinian situation without documentary testimonies, using a peculiar genre that can be called "realistic tragicomic fiction." Both films present the trap of Palestinians under the dual regime of military-democratic rule, the controlled borders, and the attempts to cross them, which create an explosive situation leading to violent fantasies and very concrete suicide bombings. The suicide bomb is an act of despair, used in the absence of any viable option or tangible activity that can eliminate the political trap. Expectations for divine intervention and the search for paradise appear to be more realistic options than the chance that human political efforts will put an end to the sophisticated regime of Israeli domination. Palestinian filmmakers, like their aforementioned Israeli counterparts, view violence as a destructive power that cannot lead to a better future.
These Israeli and Palestinian films present individuals trapped in a violent reality that has been imposed on them, unable to escape. In other words, they represent the absence of political space since October 2000 and the derailment of the "peace process". In spite of the apparent good intentions of the actors to work towards a negotiated peaceful coexistence, this tragic process deteriorated into escalating repression and violence.. The Israeli elections in February 2009 reflect the unilateral strategy imposed by Israel, the total non-recognition of Palestinian rights, and the closure of political space by IDF violence in January 2009. The warm and enthusiastic reactions to the film Waltz with Bashir, cannot hide the US and EU support of Israeli violence, and the impotence of the international community to protect the Palestinians. Israeli and Palestinian artists and peaceful citizens still remain alone with their nightmares and dreams.
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[1] This is and excerpt from "No Paradise Now" Chapter 11 of Politics and Violence in Israel/Palestine – Democracy vs. Military Rule (Routledge, July 2009)
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[i] Uri Klein compared the two movies and suggested that they represent a new genre reflecting the present political situation ("Avi Mograbi Horror Show" HA, 22 August 2008).
Gracias por el artículo. Silvana, hay que hacer links para que al picar manden al artículo, se hacen con el boton de la esferita cuando escribes el post. Un abrazo.
ResponderEliminarPerdón Miriam, pero no veo la esferita...
ResponderEliminarVa otra a través de Lev:
Dear Friends,
The Waltz with Bashir festival is over, but the Massacres in Lebanon 1982 and Gaza 2009 are still waiting for some justice.
The film has provoked, unintentionally, an important debate. I send to you Mischa's review of the film, sent to his father, Jamil Hillal.
Jamil was shipped to Tunis with the PLO cadres in August 1982, while Mischa, 19 years old, stayed in Beirut during the massacre.
I found Mischa's critic very interesting, because he emphasizes both the political weaknesses of the film and the importance
to remember Sabra and Shatila.
Lev
Hello,
I finally got to see this film. Since a few of you have asked for my impressions I thought I'd express them once and send to you all. If you haven't seen the film then you may want to delay reading; I don't want to spoil it for you.
Mischa
December 2008
Waltz With Bashir
As a depiction of the futility of war and the confusion, terror and brutalisation of those who take part in it Waltz With Bashir is a powerful example of the genre. This is partly due to the narrative approach, where the protagonist goes on a journey to recover his inaccessible memories of war. It is also due to the use of terrific animation, providing a fresh and affecting portrayal of boys at war. [On a personal note I was struck by the fact that many of the IDF soldiers were no older than I was at the time, being on the other side and equally terrified.]
The film explores the nature of memory and how we avoid cognitive dissonance by suppressing actions and events that don't accord with how we see ourselves. Thus our protagonist, incited by a colleague's own memories surfacing as bad dreams, tries to uncover the events he has blanked. So far so good, and the matter-of-fact way that he approaches his task through interviews is nicely offset by the dream-like flashback sequences.
However, because of what seems like a dogged adherence to his personal experience, director Folman misses an opportunity to turn the film into something bigger, to draw a parallel between his own avoidance of an uncomfortable truth with his country's avoidance of an uncomfortable truth: that victim has turned victimiser. This holding back is done largely through omission, and it's not clear whether it is deliberate or unconscious - whether looking more closely would have been too much to bear, even for a director who's been brave enough to tackle a topic that's hitherto been an unexamined stain on the national conscience. And the omissions are factual ones - facts that, had they been included through better mis en scène, would have easily made these connections without overdoing the allegory.
For instance the infamous siege of Beirut predating the massacre is barely mentioned. Three months of intense Israeli bombing that, according to the UN, killed seven thousand people and injured eighty thousand, 80% of whom were civilians. The numbers killed were twice the largest estimate of the numbers killed in Sabra & Shatila by Phalangists. That in itself poses an interesting question about whether killings performed by the state are less heinous than those performed by thugs, but unfortunately there was no opportunity to ask it.
There's more context missing: when Bashir was killed, the PLO had already left Beirut under the supervision of a multinational force, leaving little resistance in the city (apart from Lebanese leftist groups) and none in the camps. The film gives the impression that it was Palestinians who killed Bashir, a logistical impossibility. (It was the Syrians.) Bashir's Phalangists were not intent on revenge - no doubt they were fuelled, along with drugs and alcohol, by his death - but their enraged and futile intent was always to 'cleanse' Lebanon of Palestinians, and here's the awkward and unspoken truth - it was an intent of which Israel was well aware and took full advantage. The Phalangists had made no secret of wanting an 'ethnically pure' and 'Christian only' Lebanon, an interesting thread the film avoids pulling, and nor does Folman make use of the irony that the Phalangists (Israel's ally throughout the invasion) were created by Bashir's grandfather after an inspirational visit to Nazi Germany.
Then there's the massacre itself. Basic research reveals the following: a pre-massacre meeting between the commander of Israeli forces in Beirut and the Phalangist chief of staff took place, at which Israel provided aerial photos of the camps and agreed to supply logistical support, wilfully disregarding what they knew Phalangists were capable of. Although the Israeli headquarters overlooking the camp was mentioned in the film, the fact that there was a Phalangist liaison officer present was not. In contact with militia in the camp, he gave Israeli intelligence officers no doubt as to what was going on. Under orders Israeli soldiers repeatedly turned pleading civilians back into the camps, ignoring their exhortations that they were being raped and massacred. [Dramatically speaking this would have made for a much more powerful example of individual culpability for the protagonist than just being there when flares were fired, as shown in the film. This moment of revelation is weakened because again the director is too autobiographical.] Many IDF soldiers reported what was going on to their superiors, all were told not to worry about it. Although an example if this was shown in the film, the collective blind eye turned by IDF command was understated. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the fact that the IDF and Israeli Intelligence were in control of (and present inside) the stadium where truck-loads of camp residents were taken to be ‘processed’ was also left out.
All these omissions serve to water down Israel's role in the affair, and the result is a disservice to the viewer and to Folman, who left too much unsaid.
Having said all that Waltz with Bashir is still a powerful and important film, for all kinds of reasons, not least of all because it gives the victims some acknowledgement, but also for those who let it happen. It was always going to take an Israeli to step up and ask, 'What were we doing?' No one else can do that for them. Folman, to his credit, has stepped up, but has only gone so far. It's as if he took the brave step of deciding that he needed to hold up a mirror, but shied away from looking into it too deeply.