That cheeky Arab from Jaffa
'Ajami' co-director’s remarks an opportunity to think about our arrogance
I have no good words to write in favor of Scandar Copti, the co-director of "Ajami". What nerve: He got the opportunity to direct a movie, he got NIS 2 million from an Israeli cinema foundation that enabled him to realize his dream, he reached the zenith of glory on Oscar night in LA, yet nonetheless – and unbelievably so – he openly declared that his film “does not represent the State of Israel.” How terrible.
As noted, I don’t have anything good to say about him and I have no interest in meeting him and hearing his motives for uttering the words he did. As far as I’m concerned, he can go to hell.
Yet a moment before we send Scandar Copti to go to hell, perhaps we are the ones who should be asking ourselves: What motivates an Arab-Israeli who received great gifts from us to say what he did? Why do we deserve it?
And why should we be asking these questions? Because one of these days we will get rid of the liberated/occupied territories and of the millions of Palestinians living there. At that point we will stay with more than a million Arab-Israelis who are living with us, amongst us – and what will happen then? Will they still be taking the global stage and declaring that “we don’t represent the State of Israel?”
Indeed, we like to beat ourselves up and always feel guilty, yet perhaps Scandar Copti’s bitter words enable us to ask ourselves today: Where did we go wrong?
I believe that the very question includes the answer: Not only us, but we too, need to change our way of thinking, and first and foremost repress to the point of elimination our sense of arrogance over the Arabs, and most certainly over Israel’s Arabs.
Indeed, we are members of the “chosen people,” yet in the 21th Century and after learning some bitter lessons, we would do well to put a complete end to this arrogance, which is part of our life and character.
Cursed arrogance
Instead of going far, I will give a personal example: A few days ago I required the services of a pharmacy. The pharmacist presented himself as Mohand, said he did not have the required medicine, and sent me to another branch where his friend Nashef works. I eventually got what I needed, not before Nashef asked me to send his regards to another pharmacist who works near my home, George.
On my way to finally acquiring the medicine I needed, I found myself thinking: Mohand? Nashef? George? Even though I thought that I’ve been free of bias for a while now, I was angry at myself during those moments of irrelevant thoughts. Many people amongst us have entrusted their very lives at the hands of Arab surgeons, and suddenly I’m being amazed by Arab pharmacists?
I’m convinced that at this very moment, many amongst us are asking themselves: What, Arabs can serve as pharmacists? For generations we got used to see them as people who only do menial labor; at most, landscapers who mow our lawns. But doctors? Pharmacists?
This is precisely the kind of cursed arrogance that leads us to the verge of disaster.
For 62 years now, and even before then, we lived together, yet we still have not learned them. Our history of thousands of years is in our favor: As a minority, we were always being persecuted and suffered as result of other people who viewed us as inferior – yet does it mean we now need to pay the gentiles back?
Experience shows us that many amongst us, almost everyone, are able to change their worldview. For example, only those who lived here ages ago can notice the dramatic change among many Ashkenazi Jews in terms of their attitude to Mizrahi Jews. Yet the fact is that the people have changed, and the country has changed. It is possible.
And so, I don’t have anything good to say in favor the co-director of "Ajami", who bit the hand that granted him the opportunity to realize a dream. Yet before we tell him to go to hell, it would be important and worthwhile for us to ask ourselves whether we are the ones who pushed him there.
