02.02.2006
A caring Zionism
Carey Davies reviews Steven Spielberg's Munich
Schindler's list was not a controversial film. Critics responded to it positively - it was nominated for 12 academy awards. Commentators of the Jewish and non-Jewish variety alike lauded Stephen Spielberg for his unflinching depiction of an epoch-defining historical atrocity. His immense capabilities as a filmmaker ensured that he could navigate the minefield of potential errors that making a movie about the holocaust must have represented. The result was a deeply compassionate - and popular - film.
Munich has been rather more divisive. Anticipating this reaction, the film's director has refused to talk to journalists. It has not been accompanied by a press junket. The first the world's press heard of it was in an exclusive granted to Time magazine. Spielberg is not known for trying to duck the limelight - he obviously knew it would be controversial.
And it has been. Zionists are outraged. Charles Krauthammer in the Washington Post slams Munich as a "travesty" (January 13). The Zionist Organisation of America urged its followers to stay away: "Don't see Spielberg's Munich unless you like humanising terrorists and dehumanising Israelis." The ZOA may or may not have actually watched Munich; either way, its response has been claptrap - but revealing claptrap.
The murder of 11 Israelis by the Palestinian group, Black September, at the 1972 Munich Olympic Games is not easy subject matter - nor is it something, given the world's ideological, religious and political set-up in these post-September 11 days, that can be dealt with cinematically without prompting controversy. With this in mind, Spielberg strikes at the heart of what he perceives to be the issues at stake: the loss of 'Jewish morality' to an increasingly belligerent and uncompromising Israeli state; how religio-political passion can overrule the possibility of compromise and co-existence; and how the Arab-Israeli conflict is unlikely to be solved with the use of weaponry.
In this respect, Spielberg delivers a heartfelt liberal critique of Israeli foreign policy, by weaving a story of escalating violence, retribution and revenge around the main protagonists. He is also a Zionist - but a critical one. The film's moral purpose should, therefore, be seen in this context.
The kidnap of the hostages is brutal and chaotic, and there is a palpable sense of confusion and panic in the ensuing press reaction. We cut back and forth from Munich throughout the film, until its striking climax. In between, the action centres on the activities of a group of Mossad agents, led by soon-to-be family-man Azner (former stand-up comedian Eric Bana), who are assigned an "unprecedented" mission: to assassinate all who were involved in the planning and execution of the hostage operation.
Tellingly, we are informed at the beginning that this film is "inspired by real events". But Munich distorts the facts in some cases and makes them up in others. It fills in the substantial holes in the account with personal drama, and in the various narratives, dialogues and conversations that occur - the 'inspired' part - Spielberg and his co-writers impart the film's lessons.
This occasionally leads to some discrepancies. For example, the film's main focus is upon lead agent Azner and his increasingly feverish guilt, as the reality and consequences of what his team are doing sets in. Somewhere around the second major explosion, Azner begins to doubt the validity of his mission: not only is it morally difficult; it is also becoming more and more ineffective - every time the (non-terrorist) Mossad agents dispatch a major anti-Israeli terrorist, we learn of a more monstrous head growing back in its place.
Azner becomes increasingly frustrated and paranoid, while his colleagues express a mixture of unease and bravado. "The only blood I care about is Jewish blood," says South African Steve, who represents the belligerent and uncompromising Zionist. "Don't fuck with the Jews" is how he describes the message their mission is broadcasting. But elsewhere, conscientious clean-up man Carl is not so sure, citing god's rebuke to the Jews after the Red Sea swallows an army of Egyptians: "Why are you celebrating? I've just killed a multitude of your children." Demolitions expert Carl is even more explicit: "We're supposed to be Jews. We don't do wrong because our enemies do wrong."
This sits at odds with reality. Azner would have been chosen for this mission because of his ruthlessness, obedience and ability to follow orders unquestioningly. It is not likely that a hardened Mossad agent would find himself in such a mental predicament. So, although he looks increasingly flustered, sheds tears at the sound of his child's voice and shows all the characteristics of a genuinely troubled man by the end, he never disobeys an order: he carries on with his mission in the knowledge that he is complicit in the deaths of many more children.
He leads a raid in Beirut where we see Palestinians gunned down in their beds, along with their wives and partners. He dashes heroically around the corner to prevent his team accidentally killing a child. Minutes later, the child's father explodes. In one particularly horrific scene, his team put paid to a female "terrorist" - she collapses on a chair, blood spilling from her throat as she chokes on the bullet wound Azner has caused moments earlier. After a third assassin finishes her off, her dress is open; one agent moves to close it, but Azner holds him back. The team had departed from their mission in order to take revenge on this femme fatale, who had been responsible for the death of one of their colleagues. You can see why Israeli apologists are not exactly enamoured with this portrayal of Zionist agents.
By the end of the film, Azner is estranged from his mission and Israel itself, living the life of a typical exile Israeli in Brooklyn. His part is presumably written to personify and humanise the tensions between the 'morality' on which the state of Israel is supposed to rest, and the way this is obscured by the actions of the Israeli state today; this is further emphasised in the resonance between Munich, September 1972 and New York, September 2001 (the twin towers are symbolically visible in the final scene).
But I felt distant and unsympathetic towards him. He is simply too much of an inappropriate choice for this role - Munich attempts to place the conscience of Israel in the head of one of its most dedicated soldiers and this did not work for me. Spielberg is arguing for a sort of 'soft' Zionism: a more 'caring' kind of oppression of the Palestinians. It would be unfitting, therefore, if the agents were seen to be entirely untroubled by their deeds.
From this arises another aspect of the film which I found disagreeable. The portrayal of the two sides in the conflict is not 'unbalanced', in the sense that the Israelis are seen doing terrible things and their opponents react accordingly. At no point does one root for the Mossad side, or feel like Spielberg is giving the Israeli authorities an easy time of it. But owing to the nature of his critique - which is dissident, but ultimately Zionist - there are objectionable moments, particularly in the sympathetic depiction of prime minister Golda Meir: "I don't know where these maniacs come from," she says, referring to the hostage-takers, as if she was completely unaware of the last three decades of Israeli-Palestinian history.
Her eventual decision to give the go-ahead to the mission is posed like this: "Every civilisation has to compromise with its own values." This is the heart of Munich's argument: that Israel, originally a bastion of hope and civilisation, is in urgent need of having those values restored.
Otherwise, Munich is a fairly significant and positive step forward, as demonstrated by the reaction of Zionists like those quoted above. As can be expected, it is an enormously capable piece of filmmaking. Spielberg just about manages to overcome the difficulty involved in creating a movie which is both thought-provoking and profitable. It conveys the callous nature of this conflict with an effectiveness which is at times devastating - the opening and closing scenes spring to mind.
However, purely as a point of comparison, Munich put me in mind of Channel 4's The Hamburg cell, which dramatised its version of the events leading up to 9/11 in the al Qa'eda unit responsible. Despite its inferior budget, this latter film is the most effective attempt to deal with the post-9/11 situation that I have seen. It is also less compromised by the sensationalism that creeps into Spielberg's film.