‘Seeing an Israeli soldier with the LGBTQ flag on top of the ruins of Gaza is offensive to every gay person in the world’

Palestinian filmmaker Dima Hamdan describes the Israeli military’s blackmailing of homosexuals in the West Bank so that they would collaborate with their occupation in a new short film. Theirs was a terrible choice: betrayal or public shaming?

Palestinian filmmaker Dima Hamdan during an interview at Casa Árabe in Madrid, November 13, 2024Pablo Monge

It all happens in one night. Shadi, a young Palestinian, comes to his home in the West Bank, terrified. He confesses to his parents that the Israeli military is trying to force him to inform on his friends and neighbors. “What do they have on you?” his father asks, fear in his voice. The telephone rings. A voice announces to the family that Shadi is gay and that they will release his sex video to the entire town if he doesn’t collaborate.

The Israeli occupation takes on unexpected forms in the daily existence of West Bank inhabitants. Palestinian filmmaker and former journalist Dima Hamdan (Kuwait, 1975) portrays one of them in the short film Blood Like Water. “I wanted to show the families’ dilemma. The Palestinian cause is important, but so are children. Would we be capable of exposing ourselves to public scorn in order to protect the cause and not become traitors? The choice is very difficult and either way, we sacrifice something,” she says in an interview with EL PAÍS at Madrid’s Casa Árabe, where she screened the film.

Hamdan, who is the director of the Marie Colvin Journalists’ Network, has seen her film receive honors at festivals in Oslo, Barcelona, and Brooklyn, and notably, the prestigious Iris Prize, which is reserved for films that center on LGBTQ themes. The auteur says that Israel “is sabotaging its own image” as a gay paradise, due to its lack of respect for the rights of Palestinians, particularly in Gaza.

Question. In the West Bank homosexuality is not considered a crime, but in your film, it’s clear that in Palestine it is better to have a drug-trafficker or a militant as a child than a gay person.

Answer. Palestinian society is quite varied, but there is a pact of silence, a taboo. The message is that you can be gay, but not openly so. What the Israelis do is, they don’t tell your parents that you’re homosexual, but rather, they tell the whole town and exhibit it in a flagrant and humiliating way, distributing a sexual video recorded without your consent. It’s one thing for your neighbor to know that you’re gay and another for them to watch in you in the act.

Q. Was there a specific event that motivated you to tell this story?

A. I am Palestinian, I know that Israel blackmails people so that they collaborate with them. I remember a conversation, many years ago, with a friend in Ramallah, in which they told me that one of the Israeli army’s latest tactics was coercing homosexual men and that they found it quite easy, above all with those from very conservative Palestinian homes. The story is based on real information, but it’s fictional.

The Israelis know what they’re doing and target traditional families, in which parents aren’t prepared to publicly acknowledge that their sons are homosexual. Not from a religious standpoint, but rather cultural and social”

Q. The film centers on the suffering of the parents, the family. Why is that?

A. I wanted to show the families’ dilemma. The Palestinian cause is important, but so are children. What would we do if we were in this situation? Would we be capable of exposing ourselves to public scorn in order to protect the cause and not become traitors? The choice is very difficult and either way, we sacrifice something. When we were filming, for example, the case of a boy who suffered from this kind of blackmail came to light, but if more cases aren’t made public, I fear that it’s because the Israeli strategy is largely working and people are collaborating.

Q. In your film, two ideas are omnipresent: sacrifice and loyalty.

A. People think that fighting against the Israeli occupation means giving up one’s life, but it’s not just that. There are other sacrifices and other ways of fighting back. For example, some parents momentarily put aside their reputation and honor and say to the world, “Look, these are our options: either we collaborate with the Israeli army, which makes us traitors and could lead to the death of other people because of the information we will provide them, or we accept that our son is homosexual and our image is tarnished.”

Q. Is it possible to speak that openly in Palestine today?

A. I think that it would be a relief for a lot of people if these things ceased being taboo. Because we are giving the occupation a gift. Israel is able to do so much damage because it has human intelligence, which is to say collaborators, within Palestine. We can deprive them of a part of that if Palestinian homosexuals are not afraid to be who they are and stop fearing societal pressure.

Israel is able to do so much damage because it has human intelligence, which is to say collaborators, within Palestine. We can deprive them of a part of that, if Palestinian homosexuals are not afraid to be who they are”

Q. In recent months, at least two photographs have come to light of Israeli soldiers holding up the LGBTQ flag over the ruins of Gaza. How do you feel when you see those images?

A. It’s ironic — Israel represents itself as the gay capital of the world, but it’s destroying its reputation by publishing those photographs. They are sabotaging their own image. Seeing an Israeli soldier displaying the LGBTQ flag over the ruins of Gaza is offensive to every gay person in the world. My film has been very well received in all the festivals, especially in the LGBTQ ones, and I feel like the community is changing the way it looks at Israel. Not because of its blackmailing of homosexual Palestinians, but for its lack of respect for human rights.

Q. Has Blood Like Water been shown in Palestine?

A. I made this short for Palestinian society, for the people who are directly affected by what it shows. It’s a film that was also funded by Palestinians. It was going to be shown in 2023 at a festival in Ramallah, but the war began and everything was suspended. In September of this year, you could see it in Ramallah, Bethlehem, and Hebron, but unfortunately, theaters were empty because no one is in the mood due to the current situation. I hardly received any feedback after the screenings, but we’ve got to keep going. We can’t take it all back and remain mute.

Q. Were you disappointed?

A. Israel is not only committing genocide in Gaza, it wants to paralyze us all and deprive us of hope. This war has killed something in us all. I, for example, am not the same. I don’t recognize myself, but I keep pushing forward because that’s what I have to do, because I can’t fall to pieces. In a few months, when I’m done presenting the film in festivals, I’m going to put it on the internet with free access, so that everyone in Palestine can see it.

Q. It’s a fictional film, but you researched and conducted interviews for months before filming.

A. Yes, it helped that I worked as a journalist in Palestine and had contacts. I conducted many interviews by asking people, what would you do if this happened to you? I ran into a lot of silence. The Israelis know what they’re doing and target traditional families, in which parents aren’t prepared to publicly acknowledge that their sons are homosexual. Not from a religious standpoint, but rather, cultural and social.

Q. Your film is shot in Bethlehem, in the West Bank, where relationships between two people of the same sex is not a crime. In Gaza, the British penal code is still in effect, which makes relationships between two men punishable with jail time. Did you also do interviews in the Strip?

A. We shot in the West Bank, but for me, beyond geography, the most important thing was portraying the dilemma of a family and that, ultimately, in Palestine everyone is in a struggle against themselves. The challenge was telling a story in 15 minutes that all Palestinians could identify with, wherever they are. In Gaza, there is also blackmail, but doubtlessly it takes place in other hues and shapes. Hamas is more conservative than authorities in Ramallah, but they also haven’t mounted a witch hunt against homosexuals. I think they have more important things on their agenda.

The most important thing was portraying the dilemma of a family and that, ultimately, in Palestine everyone is in a struggle against themselves”

Q. Did you have any difficulties shooting in Bethlehem?

A. I was lucky to have an amazing crew. When we found the house in which most of the movie takes place, I explained the film’s plot to the owner and it was no problem. The man had been incarcerated in an Israeli prison in the 1980s and he told me at that time, Israel drugged Palestinians when they went, for example, to a beauty salon. Women woke up hours later naked, in a place they didn’t recognize. The telephone rang and a voice told them that they had a very compromising video of them and that they had to collaborate with Israel.

Q. Are lesbians subject to the same kind of blackmail as men?

A. I don’t know if that happens, I don’t know of any cases. But I think that Palestinian men, due to how our society is constructed and the image of men within it, are much more vulnerable. And the Israelis know that.

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