Surviving October 7th: We Will Dance Again

On Tuesday 24 September I was invited by the BBC to attend a preview showing of the documentary film, We Will Dance Again, written and directed by Israeli film maker Yariv Mozer. The film is a harrowing minute-by-minute retelling of the massacre by Hamas at the Supernova Music Festival which took place on October 7. The film reconstructs the events of the day and is a stark and unflinching account of those who survived the terror of that day and those who did not. There is a mixture of interviews with survivors and the film uses mobile phone footage captured on the day.

The previewing of the film took place in the presence of the writer and director and three survivors, all young adults who are part of the film. The father of a victim who did not survive was present, and all five had agreed to be interviewed after the film was shown. The partner of one of the survivors interviewed is still held hostage in Gaza, a year after his abduction. It was noteworthy that the response of some survivors was a desire to talk and share with the audience, and for others the trauma had clearly led to reticence and a struggle to articulate thoughts and feelings. Both chosen responses are understandable.

Watching the film alongside a young British Jewish audience rather than in the privacy of my own home was important. It added something to my understanding of how unsafe many British Jewish people feel. It offered me some more understanding of how witness testimony matters. In the Panel that followed a father whose son died that day, was seated next to a young woman who survived only because of his son’s bravery in protecting her and some other young people from the festival who had sought refuge in a concrete shelter. For more than 40 minutes his son stood in the door way of the shelter and threw back out the live grenades that were repeatedly thrown in by Hamas militants. The footage of such heroism is captured in the film. In the midst of so much inhumanity, the chosen response of some in seeking to save and protect the vulnerable is significant.

The film begins with a clear acknowledgement of the loss of life of both Israelis and Palestinians on 7 October and since that day, as well as the on-going devastation for the whole region which, of course, did not begin on October 7 but long ago. It is important to acknowledge the impact that the loss of 1,200 civilian Israeli lives has had, the taking of 200 hostages of whom 101 are still held captured, for a nation who after the Holocaust were told by the world, “never again”. The film helps with that. The chosen response to the events of that day by the Israeli government has resulted in the loss of more than 40,000 in Gaza, and now deaths in Lebanon mount. The survivors were deeply aware of that and still, and still, spoke of the need to build peace and hope, justice and security for all.

I read widely the journalism from the region, I read as many novels and essays and poetry from Israel Palestine as I can in order to seek to understand fully how such hatred and violence can prevail in the way they do. This film is, I think, a necessary one to watch. It is difficult, unflinching and painful to engage with but is a part of the fuller picture we must seek to hold. It adds to the complexity of understanding required of us as those who work for peace with justice when we encounter a tendency to resort to simplistic commentary.

Part of my response to watching this film has been to re-read the stories of heroism shown by Palestinian people in the face of an onslaught of overwhelming violence and destruction of homes, communities, schools, universities and hospitals. The number of emergency and relief workers murdered in Palestine while seeking to bring relief to suffering people in the midst of the complete devastation of war has been horrifying. I keep thinking of 5 year old Hind Rajab who was killed with many members of her family, when the car they were fleeing in having been told to evacuate their homes, was attacked. She survived alone in the car for hours surrounded by the bodies of her dead family members. The ambulance sent to rescue her was also then attacked and the two paramedics in it, Yusuf Zeino and Ahmed al Madhoun were killed. This is one story of one family and the terror they experienced but it reflects the wider tragedy of this year, and the legacy of many years of occupation and war.

The question I am left with is, how will anyone, ever, in this context, dance again?

Please beware that this film contains strong language, graphic violence and disturbing scenes. You can watch the film on BBC iPlayer.