# 235 / Editorial

It is characteristic of great men to make grand gestures in the face of history, and this is undoubtedly what Emmanuel Macron had in mind when he announced the recognition of the State of Palestine, preceded or followed in this by several European and Western countries. The heated debates that followed, however, had the merit of highlighting a notable fact: the difficulties in reconciling the equally legitimate concerns for Israel’s security and the Palestinians’ right to self-determination are neither new nor avoidable. Even if we credit the gesture of recognition with the best of intentions, which we can only share, the fact remains that it needs to be evaluated in terms of its ability to achieve its stated goals. This is what the editorial staff of K. magazine, torn between hope and disillusionment, set out to do this week after vigorous internal discussions.

Yes, the latest film by Israeli director Nadav Lapid, captivated French critics and audiences at the Cannes Film Festival. No, it is probably not primarily for its intrinsic cinematic qualities. In a context where a mixture of curiosity, rejection, and ignorance characterizes the French relationship with Israeli culture, Lapid’s media discourse, which does not hesitate to play the prophet of doom, seems tailor-made to appeal. This week, Laure Abramovici looks back at the Israeli filmmaker’s career and the internal tensions in a body of work divided between Israel and Europe. French critics’ expectations of Israeli cinema are thus confronted with what Lapid actually has to offer, at the risk of misunderstanding.

Looking into our past issues, we are resharing our conversation with Dara Horn on why, in the contemporary imagination, are Jews always relegated to the figure of the victim, or rendered invisible as Jews? For Dara Horn, the sanitization of the memory of the Holocaust, and the teaching of it as a moral fable from which everyone can draw their good conscience, erase the particularity of Jewish life and culture, and reduce Jews to the status of symbols of Nazi horror, and of the lessons we are supposed to have learned from it forever. What therefore seems unthinkable, and gives rise to unease, is the idea that Jews can be actors in their own destiny: the figure of the all-powerful Jew is countered by that of the radically powerless victim.

 

Between staunch supporters and fierce detractors, recognition of the State of Palestine crystallizes sharply divided positions. Each side’s arguments are defensible—as long as they aim to protect both Israel’s security and the Palestinians’ right to self-determination—but the challenge here is to understand what such a gesture would actually achieve: would a declaration of principle have consequences for the future?

Yes by Nadav Lapid electrified Cannes and French critics. Hailed as both a political pamphlet and a cathartic confession, the film nevertheless raises a question: what exactly are we applauding in this work that is considered radical? Behind the cinematic object, it is the discourse of the media-savvy Israeli director—sometimes embracing the role of deconstructed sabra, sometimes that of prophet of doom or visionary poet—that fascinates French critics.

Dara Horn is a journalist, essayist and professor of Yiddish and Hebrew literature. In this interview, she talks about what prompted her to write People Love Dead Jews in 2021, and the question this book explores: why do dead Jews arouse so much more interest than living Jews? Between the ritualization of a sterilized memory of the Holocaust, fascination with the figure of the Jew reduced to helpless victimhood and denial of the actuality of antisemitism, Dara Horn questions the deeply ambiguous way in which the West, and America in particular, relates to Jews, and to the ghosts they evoke.

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Thanks to the Paris office of the Heinrich Böll Foundation for their cooperation in the design of the magazine’s website.