Taking both sides of Middle East conflict

At the entrance to the gleaming new Cameri Theatre, two armed soldiers, a male and a female, ask to see my hawiya -- Arabic for “identification card.” Their uniforms are of the army, the accent is Arabic. “Hatha journalist,” says the woman to her partner. I am permitted to enter the auditorium and to take my seat.

This surreal scene is part of a new Israeli play, “Plonter,” a play that presents the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from the perspective of both sides.

This exercise in audience participation demonstrates to the Tel Aviv audience what Palestinians in the territories go through daily. For me, as a former active-duty Israeli soldier, it is an eye-opening role reversal.

In a sea of violence and pain, “Plonter,” which means “Tangle” in Hebrew, is a mosaic of short plays and literary excerpts on life under occupation and in the shadow of terrorism.

Nine Israeli actors -- five Jews and four Arab Israelis -- are brought together to depict the pain and frustration of contending with the trying circumstances of life in this region. “Plonter” is about the complex, painful and absurd life on either side of the roadblock and constitutes a dialogue under fire.

“The idea was to create a group of Jewish and Arab actors and to confront them with materials and issues that are related to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict,” says “Plonter” director Yael Ronen. “The main goal for us, as a group, was to use the dramatic tools in order to understand the other side and to identify with him on the humane level.”

Part of “Plonter” is performed in Hebrew with simultaneous translation into Arabic and part in Arabic with simultaneous translation into Hebrew.

This project -- supported by British and Israeli funds that are promoting innovative works -- is an unusual approach to the conflict.

Both Israeli and Palestinian sides are portrayed at the same time, displaying their fears, their reactions and their behaviors. But this treatment of this region’s blood-soaked realities also contains moments of humor, an essential ingredient when dealing with these heavy topics.

In one scene, a separation wall -- representing the barrier Israel is erecting in and around the West Bank -- is going up in the middle of a Palestinian house. “How am I supposed to get to the kitchen?” asks the flustered Palestinian resident. “Give me a hand here and hold the tape measure for a second, will ya?” replies the Israeli constructor who explains he is only doing his job.

In another, an Arab resident of Israel is riding a crowded bus, clutching a black backpack. A Jewish woman on the bus draws the driver’s attention. The driver orders the man to take off his shirt in front of everyone to make sure he isn’t hiding a bomb. The man, insulted and humiliated, protests by taking all his clothes off and stands on the seat in his underwear.

The play dips into a deep wellspring of hurt on both sides. The current conflict has lasted more than four years and has cost more than 4,000 lives (about 1,000 Israelis and 3,000 Palestinians). Palestinian suicide bombings, Israeli military incursions and roadblocks have made daily life taut with anxiety and frustration. It is this tense reality that “Plonter” seeks to satirize.

The narrative moves from an Israeli family to a Palestinian family, with overlapping links. The first comes from the liberal Jewish sect. Then a Polish mother; a son in an elite army unit who shot a Palestinian child and whose commanders are covering up the incident; an activist daughter with a pacifist boyfriend; a second daughter who had a miscarriage due to a terrorist attack; her husband, who is involved in the cover-up in another unit; and a father who wants only to watch soccer in peace.

The Palestinian family story line involves a mother and her child who was killed under disputed circumstances. He was throwing stones, according to the army’s version, or just playing soccer, according to his friends’ testimony.

A gray concrete wall, made of mobile parts, adds authenticity to the set and symbolizes the divisions within each society and between the two.

“The exposure to the person behind the terrorist with its needs and its feelings left its mark on me. I found myself identifying with ‘the enemy,’ with the other side that is so convenient to hate,” says Irit Kaplan, 32, from Tel Aviv, who plays a Jewish mother.

In one of the play’s wry turns, the character supports Machsom Watch women (Israeli volunteers who monitor army checkpoints for rights violations) because she mistakenly thinks it is sponsored by the Swatch company.

“During the process of the work we managed to show compassion toward each other and toward the characters that we play, characters that sometimes it wasn’t easy to identify with,” says actress Mira Awad, whose father is Arab-Israeli and mother Bulgarian.

Awad, 30, plays a Palestinian child who wants to be a shaheeda, or martyr. In another scene she is a settler, a Jewish mother of an infant who was murdered by a Palestinian.

“If the play or specific scenes from it will continue to bother the viewers a few days after they’ve seen it, we did our part,” says playwright Ronen.

The play opened in May and will show in Tel Aviv and in other major cities in Israel. A special effort is being made to bring it to some Arab-Israeli villages, and the actors and director would like to perform in the West Bank town of Ramallah if security restrictions allow it. Planning is underway for possible performances abroad, including in New York, Berlin and Cape Town, South Africa.

Whether it goes overseas or not, it seems as though “Plonter” will leave the biggest impression on the locals. “Thank you for throwing the reality in our faces,” says an old Jewish lady to the cast at the end of the play. “Hopefully, it will help break down some walls.”