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Life in Bethlehem is often desperate for both Muslims and Christians.
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Antonia
Caccia, U.K., 2001, 60 min
In
Bethlehem, Christianity is an industry, but Judaism is the big boss.
And Islam? It is sequestered into a tiny insignificant nothing. And
at the turn of the millennium, the famous little town is deserted,
with Muslims and Christians alike faring badly at the hands of the
Israeli army, as obtrusively detailed in Antonia Caccia’s Bethlehem
Diary, which premiered in New York at the Human Rights Watch
Film Festival last month.
Bethlehem
Diary – one of the many HRW films that centered on the
Palestinian-Israeli conflict – is another reminder that for
Israelis, it doesn’t matter if you’re Muslim or Christian.
Because if you are Arab, then you are sub-standard in the eyes of
most Israeli Jews.
Bethlehem,
perhaps more than other Israeli cities, is an apt backdrop for
Caccia’s film. In the movie, the predominantly Christian town
faces the same anti-Arab prejudices usually reserved for Palestinian
refugee camps. The city, which expected more than 5 million visitors
in Christmas 2000, is in virtual lockdown because of the second
Intifada that began the September before.
With
religion as the major industry of Bethlehem, all the townsfolk are
feeling the economic, social and political pressure of the Israeli
Army, who’s heavy shelling has left much of Bethlehem in ruins. In
this strained setting, the film focuses on two Palestinian families
and a human rights lawyer during these turbulent times. Their lives,
peppered with both lighthearted and trying times, are forever
altered as they feel the vise of the Israeli army inexorably
tightening.
Rifat
is the executive director of the East Jerusalem YMCA – when he can
get to work. He and his wife, Ibtesem, are Christian and live with
their three sons across from a rapidly rising new, ominous Israeli
settlement. Marwan, a Muslim, is the head of a Palestinian-Israeli
peace program, an oxymoron at best. He and his family face
joblessness, which hastens them to leave their beloved homeland.
These
two men represent the unfortunate victims of Israel’s war on
Palestine. They are hit at the most basic level – their mobility.
Just going to and from work is a weary hassle. Visiting the doctor,
shopping, seeing friends, anything that requires travel is stripped
from the families. The Israeli army sets up so many roadblocks and
reduces so many streets to rubble that going from here to there is a
recipe for disaster.
“[It’s
like the Israeli Army says to us,] ‘This is not your right’ –
to go to school, work, or for medical treatment,” Rifat
sorrowfully says to the camera. “It’s a kind of humiliation.”
Yet
even with the daily presence of the army, life goes on for these
families. Rifat’s youngest son shows off his military prowess to
the camera with fake gunfights and death scenes. For any young boy,
it could be just simple play, but in the context of Bethlehem it’s
an eerie vision of the world at-large.
For
Tamar, an Israeli, Tel Aviv-based human rights lawyer who is
overburdened with Palestinian cases, the film paints a portrait of
unwavering commitment to justice that may never emerge. She is both
numb and enflamed by the continuous attacks on Palestinians.
“It’s Israeli habit not to know [what is happening to
Palestinians], not to care. Those things [like loss of home and job]
don’t exist,” she says.
Bethlehem
Diary is rich with such observations that rise above Caccia’s
swift scene changes. By the time we get into one scene, the film
quickly fades to black, and then brightens to another scene without
giving enough time to register the intense emotions invoked by the
individual stories. Such hasty changes sometimes diminish the
powerful imagery of the film. It’s as if the bumpy movement of the
film mimics the constant roadblocks Bethlehem citizens face.
But
Caccia rises above these exasperating nuances to create a film rich
in feelings. In Rifat, Marwan and Tamar we see deep character
development through minimal conversations. Their surreal and
anguishing stories bespeak of insecurity that “affect both their
public and private family lives.” 
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