‘No Other Land’: singing from the same song sheet

There's a bridge in northern Israel, spanning the main artery of Road 6, that bears a banner with three simple words: "No Other Land." As I drove past it last week, returning to Jerusalem after a holiday in Haifa, I found myself pondering: was this message placed by a Jew or an Arab?

If placed by a Jew, it could be a reference to the historic and biblical connection of our people to the Land of Israel and the right to a Jewish state. If placed by a Palestinian, the banner likely alludes to the Oscar-winning documentary called No Other Land that captured global attention in March.

The film sheds light on the plight of 12 villages in the West Bank called Masafer Yatta, their story is a microcosm of the larger conflict that has shaped our lives for generations. Declared a closed military zone in the 1980s, the area in the South Hebron hills has been subject to decades of legal battles and forced evictions, culminating in a 2022 Supreme Court ruling that paved the way for more displacement.

When I attended a special screening of No Other Land in Masafer Yatta last year, one scene left an indelible mark on me. It depicted the heart-wrenching moment in 2019 when villagers frantically salvaged belongings before bulldozers reduced their homes to rubble, leaving children in tears and an eerie silence in its wake. Seeing their shocked and hollowed faces, I couldn't help but be reminded of the many stories of forced Jewish displacement I grew up on as a child.

After this scene, a journalist asks a woman whose house has just been destroyed if she has another place to go. She answers simply, "We have no other land."

Of all the controversies that followed the unanticipated Oscar win by No Other Land directed by Basel Adra, Hamdan Ballal, Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, the one that surprised me most surrounded its name. Some Israeli influencers and journalists, perhaps without having seen this scene in the film, accused it of appropriating a well-known Israeli song, "Ein li eretz acheret" (I have no other country) by Ehud Manor.

"Ein li eretz acheret", a patriotic favourite of Israelis since it was written in 1982, has gained a new currency as the anthem of the pro-democracy protest movement.

This dispute over the film's title is emblematic of a larger pattern where cultural artefacts - from falafel and hummus to Mizrahi music and olive farming - are claimed as the exclusive heritage of either Israelis or Palestinians. However, what this controversy truly symbolises is not cultural appropriation, but rather a shared cultural heritage.

The reason both nations lay claim to these cultural elements is rooted in our deep historical connections to the Levant. This shared connection to the land is precisely why the phrase "no other land" resonates so strongly with both peoples.

In the aftermath of the October 7 attack and the ensuing decimation of Gaza, we've heard extreme rhetoric from both sides. Hamas and Hezbollah speak of expelling 'colonial Israelis' back to an imagined metropole in Russia or Poland. Meanwhile, many Jewish Israelis and even the US President entertain fantasies of removing millions from their homeland to create a new Gaza Riviera free of Palestinians. Both these dreams, however, fundamentally misunderstand the other.

The reality is that neither Israelis nor Palestinians are going anywhere. Between the River and the Sea, there are now 7.7 million Jews and 7.1 million Arabs. Until we accept that both truly have 'no other land', this conflict will never end.

As we grapple with the complexities of this renewed war following the end of a fragile two-month ceasefire, I hope all who live here remember that acknowledging our shared connection to this land is not a zero-sum game. Rather, it's the first step towards building a future where both peoples can live with dignity, security, and peace.

I was particularly struck by this reflection from an Israeli peace activist who had donated a beautiful rainbow jumpsuit to a family in Gaza, only to later receive this tragic news.

From Suf Patishi in Israel, to Mohamed Diab a Gaza resident who calls for Hamas to stand down and release the Israeli hostages, one can only hope that the voices displaying this empathy and concern for the other grow and multiply until their views are mainstream, for neither of us has another land to call home.