Netflix has ignited controversy after it removed its "Palestinian Stories" collection this October, which featured approximately 24 films showcasing Palestinian narratives. The streaming giant cited the expiration of three-year licenses as the primary reason for the elimination of the films from its platform. This decision, occurring at a time when Palestine is facing severe humanitarian crises, has drawn the ire of many viewers, with nearly 12,000 individuals signing a petition from CodePink urging Netflix to reinstate the films.
The removal of the Palestinian films has been perceived by some as part of a broader strategy of cultural erasure at a time when Palestinians are facing acts described by scholars and human rights organizations as genocidal violence. Critics express concern over what they see as the silencing of Palestinian voices, arguing this reflects deep-seated anti-Palestinian racism. The historic erasure of Palestinian culture stretches back to events like the Nakba of 1948, where Zionist militias systematically engaged in ethnic cleansing, which also led to the destruction of significant cultural artifacts and historical archives.
No less impactful is the targeting of Palestinian cultural expressions. Visual archives, history books, and cinematic works have been systematically looted or hidden away, especially during major conflicts like the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon, which saw the looting of Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) archives. This deprives Palestinians of their right to narrate their own stories and to maintain cultural continuity.
Over decades, Palestinian cinema has played a pivotal role within the global discourse of anti-colonialism. It emerged alongside revolutionary movements worldwide, seeking solidarity against imperialism. The PLO filmmakers during the 1960s and 1970s produced films aimed at documenting the Palestinian struggle and promoting awareness of their plight on the global stage.
Censorship has often stifled these cultural expressions, with colonial and imperial powers actively suppressing narratives they deemed threatening. This has particularly manifest through bans of films and media, restricting the Palestinian movement's ability to present its story accurately. Elia Suleiman, Michel Khleifi, and Mai Masri are among the filmmakers who have carved out spaces for Palestinian stories, even amid great adversity.
Prominent voices like Edward Said have long articulated how Western narratives have systematically marginalized Palestinian experiences. Said emphasized the necessity for Palestinians to possess the agency to narrate their own histories accurately. The current closure of the "Palestinian Stories" collection feels particularly poignant considering the alarming statistics of journalist fatalities and increased censorship. Since the start of Israel's military actions following the Al-Aqsa Flood Operation in October 2023, numerous reporters have been killed or hindered from documenting the truths of life for Palestinians.
This intensifying media suppression, termed "scholasticide" by critics, includes the bombing and targeting of cultural institutions within Palestine — actions interpreted as attempts to obliterate the Palestinian narrative altogether. Consequently, the removal of films from Netflix during such severe circumstances implicates the platform within this larger narrative of erasure.
The significance of the films removed from Netflix is not merely anecdotal or festive, but rather embedded with anchors of cultural and historical representation. Channels like Netflix have immense power to shape perceptions and represent historical perspectives. Goings-on like these depict how systemic erasure can be enacted not just through violence but also through media manipulation.
With historical and contemporary policies suppressing Palestinian narratives and cultural identities, the call for Netflix to reinstall its Palestinian Stories collection flows not just from nostalgia for cinematic art but from the urgent need for representation at this pivotal moment. Listing one of the last remnants of Palestinian cultural expressions can significantly impact how the world perceives their struggle.
Netflix, confronted with pressures from various groups, had previously faced criticism for showcasing Palestinian content. After releasing the film "Farha," which depicted the Nakba, Netflix faced significant backlash, including threats to revoke funding for screenings of the film. Yet, series like "Fauda" have remained on the platform, continuing to enforce narratives applauded by pro-Zionist audiences.
The juxtaposition of these contrasting narratives raises questions about the responsibilities of major streaming platforms concerning historical representation. If platforms like Netflix wish to maintain credibility and audiences, they need to acknowledge these intersecting narratives rather than ignore them.
Viewer expectation for more varied narratives, especially when significant historical grievances are at play, creates pressure for streaming platforms to curate more representative collections. Therefore, the reinstatement of the "Palestinian Stories" collection may not simply be about acknowledging artistic merit; it’s about recognizing and addressing the larger narratives at stake.
Following the backlash against the collection’s removal, Netflix finds itself at the center of discussions about cultural representation and accountability. Can major platforms like Netflix sustain their business enterprises without engaging adequately with the historical narratives and cultural identities they host? With cultural erasure continuing to play out globally, Netflix's actions may resonate far beyond mere content acquisition.
The events surrounding the removal of Palestinian films from Netflix remind us of the importance of stories — particularly those at odds with prevailing narratives. The strength of cinema lies not only within its artistic merit but also within its ability to record and preserve authentic voices. Netflix’s chance to re-engage with its viewers hinges on its willingness to reinstate those voices, recognizing their historic and cultural importance.
