Key Takeaways:
– Netflix faced criticism for removing its “Palestinian Stories” collection, including the popular film BonBoné.
– The company cited expired licences as the reason for this decision.
– This has sparked backlash, with many feeling this erasure of Palestinian narratives is a form of cultural racism.
In a recent controversial move, Netflix, the popular streaming giant we all love to binge-watch on, removed its “Palestinian Stories” collection. This included the critically acclaimed short film BonBoné, featuring lead actor Rana Alamuddin. Remember it, right? It was about a middle-class Palestinian couple striving to stay connected despite one of them being in jail. Now, it’s nowhere to be found on Netflix.
Now, here’s the hiccup! Despite Netflix communicating that three-year licences for these films had expired, this decision hasn’t gone down well with many viewers. They didn’t buy this reason and voiced their anger at what they saw as a suppression of Palestinian narratives. More than that, actually about 12,000 of them went ahead to sign a petition initiated by CodePink, urging Netflix to bring these films back.
This incidence doesn’t exist in vacuum, it’s set against a pretty charged backdrop. Palestinains, as per scholars, United Nations experts and Amnesty International, are facing a severe crisis, with some even describing it as a genocide. This makes the timing of Netflix’s decision even more sensitive and what seems like a simple removal of films took on deeper implications. Some people are even terming this as a blatant act of cultural erasure, even going as far as to label it an act of anti-Palestinian racism.
Historically, Palestinian narratives and cultures have faced erasures dating back to the events of Nakba in 1948, where hundreds of Palestinian cities, towns and villages were destroyed. This pattern of cultural erasure even extended to artworks and archives which were frequently targeted, indicating an intentional attempt to sever connections between the people and their heritage. Even more fascinating is the importance of film as a mode of resistance and cultural perseverance.
Palestinian cinema itself has a rich history, representing a significant component of global Third Worldism around the mid-20th century. This global philosophy aimed at anti-colonial solidarity and liberation. Film, thus, encapsulated historical resistance against colonialism and imperialism, recording legacies which now risk being lost.
When it comes to censorship, it’s a long-standing tool used to repress cultural expressions in the Third World. The narratives of the colonized were often suppressed to erase historical and cultural ties to their land. It not only affected the distribution of these films but also led to the persecution of many Palestinian cultural workers.
In this light, Netflix’s decision to remove the “Palestinian Stories” collection somehow aligns with this broader suppression of Palestinian narratives. Critics argue that Netflix, perhaps inadvertently, is aiding the erasure of Palestinian culture by failing to renew the licences for these films, especially considering the ongoing crisis.
The story cinematically narrated in the “Palestinian Stories” collection is more than just a series of films- they represent historical memory, defiance, and documentation against erasure. By capturing everything from the struggles to dreams, hopes, and humor of their culture, these Palestinian films humanize a population that’s been historically marginalized. So, when services like Netflix take down these stories without a plan to renew them, it doesn’t sit well with those who value these narratives. And when viewed against the backdrop of the ongoing struggles of the Palestinian people, it’s not hard to see why some are calling for a boycott.
The world of entertainment is not just about what we see on the screen, but it’s also about what we don’t see. It’s a fine balance that needs perspective and understanding. While Netflix takes care of our weekend binge, it’s also important that it recognises and values the diversity of stories and cultures it represents. And when that balance is disrupted, like in this case, it leaves many viewers grappling with larger questions about representation, erasure, and the cultural significance and preservation of narratives.