The Wall - Simone Bitton

What happens when a determined film-maker of mixed Jewish and Arab (imagine!) descent embarks on a journey to capture the creation of a concrete fence in a part of the world, where impenetrable walls of communal hatred, historical animosity and religious conflicts have already been around for decades?

Simone Bitton, a young dynamic filmmaker, goes on a mission to capture the drivers behind the conception of this material concrete wall that also represents an intangible barrier between two communities that have had the longest and severest conflict known to man. In her investigation, she captures the views of residents on both sides of the wall, and debates the need to imprison one side, while alienating the other, further deepening the chasm between them.

The first scene lays the tone of the movie when Bitton, talking to two young Jewish kids, realized the deep sense of anxiety in the hearts of people on both sides. After the credits roll, a huge crane is shown placing two mammoth slabs of concrete side by side, gradually closing the gap until they block the rays of sunlight through them. Perhaps she shot this scene to convey the ray of hope being obliterated by the walls erected by the human mind that succumbs to fear and anger that itself creates. In the beautiful verdancy of the land, the wall cuts thru the continuity of the panoramic landscape like a knife. An interview with the director general of Israeli defense, reveal that the reason behind the fence is that “It is an effective way to significantly reduce the penetrative capabilities of the Palestinians who come to commit terrorist acts inside the state of Israel…the secondary reason is that the Palestinians considered Israel to be an unlimited resource for goods, etc which makes Israelis feel insecure.” He then goes on to boast about the scale and size of the project and how much money is spent on actually making it (which is truly astounding).

Amidst the routine lives of people living along the border of Israel and Palestine, the stentorian roars of a bulldozer are routine regularly drown the murmurs of people, holy chanting from mosques and synagogues, music blaring from Israeli radio stations and the playful sounds of children. Talking to various residents on both sides, Bitton comes across both Arabs and Jews who put across their opinions, concerns, and fears. “A good life – that’s all we want…as long as there is peace and quiet” says an Iraqi migrant, reinforcing the need to find solutions, not build divisions. Questions Bitton, “Isn’t it strange that they are building it around themselves?” to the revelation that it’s not Jews, but Palestinians, Arabs and other communities who are building this prison for themselves – trading freedom for money. Everyone seems to concur that the fence is a waste of money and a better solution is a diplomatic one if only the leaders could sit down and work things out. The fear and anxiety on both sides has been evident in all the interactions. An Israeli woman with a French sounding name talks about how she does not have basic amenities and has to go thru nuisance like security checks to go anywhere. A Palestinian talks about how his land has been confiscated by Israeli authorities. Another Israeli man stresses on the need for the two communities to bond, citing a “Heroic, universal story that traverses cultural boundaries” about a Palestinian dying while trying to save two Israeli children. He eloquently mentions about the minute physical distance, but the huge psychological distance that has been established as a result of the wall. “Closure and enclosure are the cornerstones of our lives here”, comments another one. The message is universal and unequivocal in all these stories – the wall is undesirable, almost detrimental to the relations between them.

However the one thing that everyone seems to hold on to tightly like a mother would its child – is hope. Hope that things will become better and fear and tension will give way to peace and trust, even though it seems more unlikely with the ideas like the wall. Says Shuli, so frustrated to tear down the wall when he is asked whether he is despaired, and he says what only a poet could have summed up so elegantly, “Were I despaired, I wouldn’t be here. Silence frightens me the most. Despaired people keep silent. I am not despaired, I am fighting.” The ending sequence shows many folks trying to climb over the wall to the other side, reinforcing the human trait to overcome barriers that are unwanted and unnecessary.

Someone should pump some sense into those Israeli diplomats’ heads (Maybe NATO or UN as suggested by someone). They are digging their own graves. The walls are not merely walls, they are tombstones – and there is enough stone and concrete in them for every Israeli and Palestinian.