I’m not sure how to talk about the death of Juliano Mer-Khamis. Other then to say how absolutely heart broken I was from it. Deep inside. Not because of the shock of the violence, for Palestine is full of shock and not because he was a personal friend. I didn’t know him other then performing at his theatre for the past two years. But dear friends knew him well and because of that and deeper things I saw, I was altered from it.
For the most part, the choir was scared for their personal safety. I watched the power of fear engulf them in their last days and it made me examine my own fear and how to recognize it and confront it. I understood how it looked to them and understood why they were afraid but had difficulty with the severity of it. I understood that it was their first time in the country and they were housed in a lovely hotel that could have been in any European or American city and shuffled from here and there in diplomatic vehicles, never once crossing a real checkpoint, and when they occasionally got a hint as to what the Palestinians lives are like, it was understandably devastating to them.
I, on the other hand, was here on a second visit. I knew the landscape I was entering, I had digested the autrocities here that are so hard to comprehend, even seeing them first hand. When I arrived last year, the second I checked into my hotel, I knew I was in a foreign land. I walked through Qalandya checkpoint on my first day. I was not part of a large touring group. We were only eight in our entire cast, mostly Palestinian and compact for travel that it allowed more intimate maneuvering to the cities we visited. This year, I was the only American until a week before we opened. From the year before and the fact that I was a lone traveler, I was able to make deep connections and have been invited into the homes to eat, and to sleep. I have been welcomed into their lives. I understood things on another level. I knew what checkpoints were and border crossing and sudden acts of violence. I understood how long this has been going on and how sad it is that it has become ‘normal’ here. I was not afraid for my safety and felt no need for extra security by US forces as a way of protecting me while I performed. I knew our hosts were and continue to be concerned for their safety and of course, for that of their guests.
But we Americans think differently. We see the world as if it is all about us and we try to make it that way. But in this case, we are simply not the target. In fact, I felt that we needed to be less reactive so our artistic exchanges can speak the volumes they do. It is not about us but about the Palestinians. The random bombing timed near our opening and the targeted killing timed at our closing had nothing to do with our particular project. Ironic as it was to do this piece about Martin Luther King at this very time in Palestine and Israel; the story of our American history, its violence against people and its beautiful uprising for justice and equality, from a man dedicated to peace, to real peace is still, a continual journey in our country to be sure, but we changed the face of it. It was that message of love that we were invited to bring as a way of culturally exchanging with Palestine.
And even though quiet here in Jerusalem for the past several years on the big media side of things as if this holy land is experiencing quiet and peace, the actuality is, it is experiencing subversive violence and obvious rising tensions. But these acts are not related to us, or to our show but to a much much bigger picture. Just as Martin Luther King’s efforts were not just about equality for Black Americans but a much bigger fight for all citizens, thus the name of the Civil Rights Movement. And that is the one thing that made the show here in Palestine such a powerful project.
Bringing MLK’s words and persona here teaches all of us, about the universality of peace and that non-violence is a long-term solution for all parties in conflicts because it is love that prevails. It made me look inward, to recognize my own personal fears but not to live them. I can’t help but have religious overtones here in the Holy Land, and I believe that God is Love itself and that the “Anti-Christ” is Fear itself. We must live the first and though acknowledge it’s presence, not live the second.
The other insight Juliano’s killing gave me was this…Besides the deep personal grief it shoved upon his family, his friends, and his fellow Palestinian theatre artists who are using art to help express and digest these post and present traumatic stresses, it gave a giant wound to the world. He was specifically targeted because he was an artist, a very unique and outspoken artist. To assassinate an artist is to rip the very fabric of the human psyche and that…that is what saddens me the most. I can’t even begin to articulate how deep the wound is becoming and how important it is for all of us to pay attention and to start talking about extremism and what causes it and from the act of one individual or small group of individuals, not blanket the whole Arab world or the Palestinians in particular as terrorists. Art has the power to transform. Love has the power to comprehend. Help to support the efforts of artists in this land.
here are a few links about Juliano and the Freedom Theatre
http://www.thenation.com/article/159842/remembering-juliano-mer-khamis
