"The Palestinian Tragedy"
Tunisian director Kaouther Ben Hania has consistently and desperately addressed issues in Middle Eastern/Arab nations. Films like "Beauty and the Dogs" and "Shalla of Tunisia," introduced through festivals, have deeply impacted domestic film fans. Finally, "The Voice of Hind Rajab," winner of the Grand Jury Prize at Venice, is set for release in Seoul. Amidst the continuous sounds of war in the Middle East, leaving a profound scar on human civilization, I strongly urge viewing this film.
The film revolves around a 2024 civilian vehicle shooting incident in Tel al-Hawa, Gaza. Israel was conducting a Hamas operation, evacuating civilians. The Rajab family, too, was fleeing. While parents and a brother remained, six others – including Hind's uncle, aunt, and cousins – were in the car. Israeli soldiers and tanks approached. The film is built upon the voice of young Hind, trapped inside, pleading for rescue.
Omar (Motaz Malhis) of the Palestinian Red Crescent receives the call. The Red Crescent responds to calls from across Palestine. He coordinates with the Israelis, keeping constant touch with the ambulance driver for safe passage. The first woman to call Omar is shot before she can convey the situation. Soon, a faint child's voice is heard.
"Please come here."
"Please take me."
"No one is breathing."
The film is a documentary-style reenactment expertly blending the heartfelt dialogue between Hind and Red Crescent staff and the tense moments within the Red Crescent. Despite the call, rescuing the girl 80 kilometers away is difficult. Although an ambulance is minutes away, immediate dispatch is impossible due to the need for safe passage coordination with Palestinian and Israeli authorities. A desperate fight against time ensues. Hind, trapped, begs frantically over the phone.
"What grade are you in?"
"The Butterfly Class."
"Butterfly Class? A kindergartner? How old?"
"Six years old."
At that moment, the audience can barely endure it. The sound of tank treads, machine gun fire, and screams fills the phone. Relatives are dead, and the girl, covered in blood, is weeping in the cramped car. Despite hoping for Israeli good will, there's no word.
What happens? The ambulance finally deploys. But it never returns. There's no way to know what happened. It's not until 12 days later that access is possible. The last five minutes capture the devastated scene – a completely destroyed ambulance and Hind's bullet-ridden small car. The rescue workers, Hind's aunt, relatives, and Hind herself are all dead. Only after 12 days could the truth be confirmed.
"The Voice of Hind Rajab" shows the Red Crescent's efforts to send a rescue team for a young girl. Hind's voice is constantly replayed. If this can be called war, it's a moment of utter helplessness in the face of its madness and horror. One feels a sense of despair for the Palestinians forced to watch helplessly at the Red Crescent office, and deep questioning and anger towards the Israeli response.
Previously, such work might have been dismissed as sensationalist propaganda. But hearing Hind's recorded voice, seeing the wrecked car and the body wrapped in white cloth, one understands the director's intent.
The film doesn't show Israeli soldiers or tanks with flags. Only recorded sounds and the aftermath of their departure are shown. But the audience knows where it is and who killed Hind and the rescue workers. The film doesn't show specific images directly, but the audience judges in the absence.
In that land are Israel, Palestine, and Hind. Or, rather, no longer Hind. Who will disappear next? Regardless, this event continues outside the realm of film. (By Jae-hwan Park, Seoul)