Born in Deir Yassin (2017)
The Legacy of Deir Yassin: Denial and Erasure
Deir Yassin is perhaps the most well-known massacre of the 1948 Nakba, yet it remains one of the most denied and taboo subjects in Israeli society. The events that took place there are often shrouded in debates over terminology and memory, with its history largely erased from Israeli public consciousness. Despite its centrality to the Palestinian refugee crisis and its role in shaping the early dynamics of the Israeli state, discussions about Deir Yassin often face resistance, making it a symbol of both recognition and denial.
The Ongoing Erasure
Neta Shoshani’s Born in Deir Yassin (2017) is a powerful exploration of the layered history of Deir Yassin, a Palestinian village whose tragic past continues to resonate deeply in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The film weaves together personal stories and historical events, creating a vivid picture of the village’s legacy. It delves into the 1948 massacre carried out by Zionist paramilitary groups and the subsequent transformation of the site into Kfar Shaul, a mental health hospital, effectively erasing its Palestinian origins. Much like The Village Under the Forest, this film reveals the ongoing erasure of Palestinian history, an act that persists.
Central to the film is the deeply personal story of Dror Nissan, who was born to a patient in Kfar Shaul. His mother, Hanna Nissan, hoped the birth of her child would lead to her release from the hospital, but Dror was taken from her, leaving her pleas for him to avoid the place unanswered. Through Dror’s journey, the connection between the mental hospital and the erased village comes to life. His statement, “A tragic continuity remained: victims exited, other victims entered,” captures the enduring impact of trauma and displacement.
A Spectrum of Denial and Guilt
The film also features testimonies from Israeli veterans who participated in the events at Deir Yassin. Their accounts vary, reflecting a range of reactions—from denial of the events to pride over them, justification, and lingering guilt. Some veterans express unwavering conviction about their actions during the war, viewing them as necessary for survival and the establishment of Israel, with one even suggesting that a few more ‘Deir Yassins’ would have spared Israel many of the problems it endures today. Others struggle with painful memories of what they witnessed and, in some cases, participated in—memories of violence and loss that offer a glimpse into what transpired at Deir Yassin. We also see how some continue to follow orders to withhold the truth. These candid interviews provide insight into how individual experiences shape collective memory.
While Shoshani’s film does a commendable job in critiquing Israel’s role in the massacre, it falls short in humanizing the Palestinian victims. Compared to films like Tantura and The Village Under the Forest, which balance Israeli and Palestinian voices, Shoshani’s approach focuses solely on the Israeli perspective. One might argue that this focus makes for a stronger critique, I would disagree. By not including testimonies from Palestinians who fled or lost family members, the film misses an opportunity to present a more rounded and empathetic view of the tragedy. Humanizing the Palestinian side would have added depth, allowing the audience to connect with the personal stories of those who suffered and continue to bear the scars of the massacre.
A Mental Illness
In addition, the film’s portrayal of Dror Nissan’s mother, Hanna, gives us an important view of the broader impact of the massacre. While the denial of the events at Deir Yassin is a key theme throughout the film, Hanna’s mental illness becomes a symbol of how the trauma is erased. Her condition, possibly made worse by events she experienced and the pain of losing her child, shows the lasting psychological effect of the massacre—an effect that the israeli society refuses to acknowledge. As we listen to her diary, we might wonder if she knew about the history of the place. She talks about it as an ‘evil place,’ but this could also be about her trauma from being forced to live there and the pain of having her son taken from her.
The depiction of Hanna’s illness can be seen as a sign of how serious the problem is. Her mental state, possibly made worse by the trauma of the place, reflects the deep emotional scars left by the massacre. At the same time, the ongoing denial of the massacre’s reality shows how society refuses to face the full extent of the trauma, both personally and collectively. This adds a complex layer to the film’s exploration of memory, trauma, and historical denial.
Denial and the Legal Battle
A key moment in Born in Deir Yassin is when the filmmakers follow a court case where activists try to get access to photographs and documents that show the true events of the massacre. The judges look at the material and decide that releasing it would hurt Israel’s reputation. One can only imagine why. This legal battle shows how Israel resists acknowledging the full truth of what happened at Deir Yassin. In this case, the courts help hide the history, protecting the state from facing its dark past. Given the history of the Jews and their fight for recognition of injustices committed against them, this makes the situation even worse.
Born in Deir Yassin stands out because it connects personal stories with history. Hanna’s diaries and Dror’s reflections reveal the human side of these events. The film intertwines the stories of Deir Yassin and Kfar Shaul, highlighting the lasting impact of the Nakba on both Palestinians and Israelis. Shoshani’s effort to uncover hidden histories and present them in detail adds depth to the documentary.
By including interviews with veterans and Hanna’s voice, Shoshani offers a complex view of the past, one that is both unsettling and thought-provoking. While the film does a good job of confronting a painful chapter of history, it leaves me wanting a fuller story—one that includes the voices of Palestinian survivors, whose memories have often been erased. Born in Deir Yassin courageously faces this difficult history, but its focus on the Israeli perspective underscores the need for further work to humanize Palestinians and give them a voice in the narrative.