‘Munich’ Portrays Real World Issues
by David A. Lehrer and Dr. Michael
Berenbaum
The Jewish Journal, December 2005
In
recent days, several pundits have criticized “Munich,”
the new film by director Steven Spielberg and
screenwriter Tony Kushner, for drawing a “moral
equivalency between the Israeli assassins and their
targets — both explicitly ... and implicitly.”
Furthermore, they argue that it has inaccurately
portrayed the Israeli avengers as morally conflicted
about their mission to eliminate the perpetrators of
the Munich massacre.
As long-time community advocates who have dealt with
Hollywood’s often-ambivalent images of Jews and
Israel, we are sensitive to the overt and sometimes
covert themes that can send a message that
delegitimizes the world’s only Jewish state. We are
also aware of the risks of taking creative license
with recent history that is still playing itself out
in current events.
“Munich” does not present these problems.
“Munich” probes the motivations of the Black September
terrorists who commit the heinous crime of the Munich
Olympic slaughter (portrayed in haunting and unambiguous
scenes) and even affords one of the terrorists an
opportunity to state his attachment to the land. The
terrorists, however, stand in stark contrast to the
Israeli avengers who were forced into action by a
shocked, but ultimately indifferent world, yet sought to
avoid harm to innocents at every turn.
Despite the fact that the Israeli mission was a violent
one, it was clearly not animated by the callous evil
that permeated the Palestinian onslaught. The debates,
ambivalence and anguish that the Israeli avengers
reflected on the screen as their mission wore on are no
different than today’s vigorous dialogues in Israel that
grapple with similar life-and-death issues.
Even before the establishment of the Jewish state in
1948, Palestinian Jews practiced a doctrine of tohar
haneshek, the purity of arms. They recognized, as the
movie’s protagonist, Avner, does, that while arms may be
necessary, violence not only inflicts damage on the
enemy but also wounds the actor.
The
film quotes Jewish tradition, which itself wrestles with
the question of the death of one’s enemy. At the
Passover seder, Jews diminish the cup of wine they drink
to remember that even those who enslaved them in Egypt
were human and God’s creation.
In
fact, Jewish commentaries on the Bible have God rebuking
the angels who were celebrating the destruction of the
Egyptians: “The fruits of my hands are drowning in the
sea, how dare you sing songs.” This is not a mandate for
nonviolence, it is an acknowledgment of a reality that
must be weighed and measured whenever violent action is
contemplated.
What “Munich” presents is not moral equivalency or
mechanical symmetries, it is the real world. Had this
been a two-dimensional thriller with clear cut and
uncomplicated good guys and bad guys, controversy could
have been avoided. It still would have been a compelling
and exciting film.
“Munich” deals with the ambiguities, ambivalences and
compromise that inevitably crop up in real life, even
when responding to undistilled evil visited upon
innocents.
As
the film ends, Avner walks along New York’s East River,
absorbing all he has been through. Some critics claim
that it is unclear if he returns to Israel or remains in
America. That uncertainty is not a commentary on Zionism
or its vitality; Avner needs a time out, a long time
out. (Israelis routinely go to Nepal or India, far away
from the Middle East and far away from the news of the
Middle East after their military service. They, too,
need a time out.)
In
the background of this climactic scene are the World
Trade Center’s Twin Towers, a reminder that by 2005,
with the towers gone, we all inhabit a world in which
terror is a reality and the response to it poses
uncomfortable and vexing challenges, especially for
democracies. No one is insulated, no more time outs.
Critics can quibble with this colloquy or that
juxtaposition in “Munich,” but the impact of this moving
film is profound. It forces the viewer to ponder how
best to deal with terror and evil in a world in which
every action, no matter how justified, has consequences. |