“We Israelis are nothing special”

 

The Israeli film director Dror Zahavi studied in the GDR. In the interview he talks about Germany and a torn soul.

 

In 1982 you went to the GDR to study filmmaking – an unusual decision for an Israeli. Did that have anything to do with your father being a member of Israel‘s Communist Party?

He enabled me to go abroad, and picking a socialist country was very important to him. The GDR was my choice, more because of its proximity to the West. I had some close acquaintances in West Berlin. Besides, I thought that German would be more useful to me than Czech or Polish. I didn’t know much about the film academy in Potsdam-Babelsberg.

 

Did you perceive the GDR as a German state? How did you feel there?

For me as an Israeli, Germany basically meant West Germany. After all, the GDR saw itself as the land of the victims rather than the perpetrators. To that extent, I didn’t view the GDR as typically German, but my feelings were highly ambivalent. While the GDR leadership was anti-fascist, you could definitely sense the Nazi past among the general population. In the case of elderly people, I often wondered what they had done back then.

 

Did you have prejudices against Ger­many before you moved there?

Yes, definitely. I grew up with those demons. There was an Auschwitz survivor living in 
the same street as me, and one day she burned herself to death in her apartment. I was five years old at the time. I’ll never forget that. But it was also an important motiv­ation for me to look the demons in the face. My relationship with Germany was always in motion, a dynamic process.

 

In 1991, shortly after the collapse of Communism, you moved to Germany permanently. Why?

Initially, that was for practical reasons. At 
the time there weren’t many films being 
produced in Israel, so there was little work available for directors. Then came the watershed events in Germany, and everything opened up. So I decided to go back there.

 

Have you ever experienced anti-Sem­itism in reunited Germany?

Never. Actually, I’m much more concerned about being given preferential treatment as an Israeli. If I tell someone I come from Israel, I’m immediately viewed as a Jew and handled with kid gloves. The whole political system in Germany works that way. If the mood changes, things could quickly go the other way. People who favour others because of their origin are, sadly, also capable of discriminating against those same people. We are nothing special; we’re not the chosen people. I wish people would see Israel as a quite normal country, like Italy or Sweden. 
People can say the present government in these countries is bad and the next 
one might be good. It should be exactly the same with Israel.

On German television, you’ve become a specialist for the treatment of major episodes in contemporary history. You’ve made films like Berlin Airlift, Munich ‘72 and My Life – Marcel Reich-Ranicki. How do you yourself see the fact that you’re telling Germans their own stories?

I hope that I’m offered these stories not because of where I come from but because of my qualities as a director. What makes my films special, perhaps, is the split view, the torn soul. I know that with my approach there are always two hearts beating in one chest. In a film like Berlin Airlift, I feel sympathy for the people, of course, but something makes me keep 
my distance and allows me, as an Israeli, to take a sober view of events.

 

More and more young Israelis are drawn to Berlin. Do you think the past still has any meaning for them?

On that point, you have to take a very 
nuanced view. They come here without 
forgetting the past or their origins for a 
moment. They are mainly Israelis from Tel Aviv – in other words liberally minded young people who know how to take advantage 
of the freedom Berlin offers them. Berlin has already become something like Little Tel Aviv. But no, they haven’t forgotten anything. They see the “stumbling stones” set in the pavements, they know about the past and they talk about it a lot.

 

Interview: Knut Elstermann