Ever wondered if non-violent resistance is futile?
Ever questioned whether the very protesters who vow never to take up arms are dooming themselves to insignificance and the demise of their cause, however noble?
For all its history and morality, is non-violent protest going out of fashion? Why, one could reasonably ask, organize million-strong marches when you could take a few hundred, cause a bit of trouble and be assured of instantaneous, blanket, worldwide media coverage and a week's worth of column inches?
Before you lose any hope, consider the case put forward by Julia Bacha's Budrus. Threatened by the prospect of Israeli's 'Security Wall' cutting it off from a large portion of its arable land, the town organizes a series of protests designed to prevent the progress of the contractor bulldozers. Avowedly non-violent (indeed, they are almost mini-festivals with their chanting, smiles and gentle ribbing of soldiers), the protests develop from small, local, all-male affairs to regional, unisex events to being the centre of an evocative international saga.
The star of the resistance movement is the town's understated 'community organizer' (can't write that without thinking Obama), Ayed Morrar, who succeeds in uniting Fatah and Hamas factions, both within his town and externally, behind the non-violent movement of his town. This is no mean feat in a nation once united, but now increasingly divided itself. Budrus could easily have become another platform for a Palestinian spat but thanks in part to Morrar's mediation, and (one feels) the presence of the international media, internecine rivalries are put to one side for the sake of the town and its efforts.
"It takes a village to unite the most divided people on earth"
Like most statements about this particular region, there is much to be disputed about the film's byline. The Budrus movement is a great advert for many things - but I'm not sure Middle Eastern unity is one of them. The fact is that the wall is still being built, and will soon act as a permanent reminder of the absence of unity in the region. What do we make of the tens of Israelis willing to go into Palestine and protest on behalf of the Budrus villagers? It is encouraging, granted, but ultimately relatively meaningless until the Israeli left-wing is sufficiently strong enough to influence Israeli politics. It is propitious that so many are young, for it might connote a generational change, but then again, they are no younger than the Israeli soldiers against whom they direct their protests.
Nevertheless, in the meantime 'Budrus' offers hope to villages in Palestine and beyond who suffer under the repression of foreign states and bodies. Non-violent protest can and does work, and is just as courageous and brave as any armed struggle.
Ever questioned whether the very protesters who vow never to take up arms are dooming themselves to insignificance and the demise of their cause, however noble?
For all its history and morality, is non-violent protest going out of fashion? Why, one could reasonably ask, organize million-strong marches when you could take a few hundred, cause a bit of trouble and be assured of instantaneous, blanket, worldwide media coverage and a week's worth of column inches?
Before you lose any hope, consider the case put forward by Julia Bacha's Budrus. Threatened by the prospect of Israeli's 'Security Wall' cutting it off from a large portion of its arable land, the town organizes a series of protests designed to prevent the progress of the contractor bulldozers. Avowedly non-violent (indeed, they are almost mini-festivals with their chanting, smiles and gentle ribbing of soldiers), the protests develop from small, local, all-male affairs to regional, unisex events to being the centre of an evocative international saga.
The star of the resistance movement is the town's understated 'community organizer' (can't write that without thinking Obama), Ayed Morrar, who succeeds in uniting Fatah and Hamas factions, both within his town and externally, behind the non-violent movement of his town. This is no mean feat in a nation once united, but now increasingly divided itself. Budrus could easily have become another platform for a Palestinian spat but thanks in part to Morrar's mediation, and (one feels) the presence of the international media, internecine rivalries are put to one side for the sake of the town and its efforts.
"It takes a village to unite the most divided people on earth"
Like most statements about this particular region, there is much to be disputed about the film's byline. The Budrus movement is a great advert for many things - but I'm not sure Middle Eastern unity is one of them. The fact is that the wall is still being built, and will soon act as a permanent reminder of the absence of unity in the region. What do we make of the tens of Israelis willing to go into Palestine and protest on behalf of the Budrus villagers? It is encouraging, granted, but ultimately relatively meaningless until the Israeli left-wing is sufficiently strong enough to influence Israeli politics. It is propitious that so many are young, for it might connote a generational change, but then again, they are no younger than the Israeli soldiers against whom they direct their protests.
Nevertheless, in the meantime 'Budrus' offers hope to villages in Palestine and beyond who suffer under the repression of foreign states and bodies. Non-violent protest can and does work, and is just as courageous and brave as any armed struggle.
