A Letter from the Israeli Contact Association on the Political Situation in Israel-Palestine
As we prepare for our annual conference in 2024, we address this letter to all who share an interest in the matter at hand. In the course of our preparations, we have received input from both within and outside our organization, expressing a desire for the association to take an official stance on the challenging political situation that has persisted in our land over the past year—and long before.
Our association is a diverse collective of over 40 members, ranging in age from their late 20s to late 60s, representing various ethnicities and geographical backgrounds. Each of us is an individual, an independent being carrying personal and familial histories within our cells and consciousness—a unique life experience that shapes our perspectives, especially in the face of our current reality.
We are united by our shared passion for contact improvisation dance. Each of us is engaged in teaching, creating, producing, or moving in our own way. However, when faced with the call—or even the perceived need—to address the political situation, we attempted to articulate a collective statement that encompassed our views on what is right and wrong, and what actions are necessary, now and urgently. In essence, we found ourselves in a conversation about boundaries, security, and perspectives.
Despite our efforts, we were unable to produce a single official text that represents a unified political stance. Our connection has never been based on political alignment, and even now, it is not what binds us together. There is no consensus among us on how to address the political situation. We each hold our own points of view, ideas, and beliefs.
What we do share, however, is a deep commitment to non-violence and a collective prayer for peace. We are all united in the conviction that the path of killing, destruction, and vengeance is not our path. We believe that all people in this region have the right to live with dignity and the right to liberty
bound to this place by birth or by choice
We are familiar with the fear of death,
Familiar with the concern for the safety of our loved ones, and the sorrow, mourning, and longing for those who will never return.
We also grieve the pain, suffering, and tragic losses endured by our neighbors on the other side of this conflict.
Yet, the question remains: What happens when these shared desires for peace and understanding come into conflict? Can I dance with someone who holds different views? Am I willing to meet someone I do not know? Whom do I fear? Against whom am I angry? Where do I draw the line? How far am I willing to challenge my basic need for security? What is legitimate to do when that sense of security is violated? How far can I go in dancing instead of freezing, attacking, or fleeing? Will you meet me in this space? How aware am I of the other's experience? To what extent, if at all, am I responsible for it?
As an association devoted to contact improvisation, we approach the task of writing a "political" letter in the context of the current situation by offering a different kind of "politics"—a politics of encounter and communication. As long as a space is preserved where non-violence and listening are fundamental, everyone is invited to join us, regardless of religion, race, gender, or political opinion. We acknowledge and mourn for the fact that we are currently unable to invite and dance with our neighbors across the conflict's divide. Nevertheless, we warmly welcome and invite our Palestinian friends living within the borders of the State of Israel to join us and take part in this event. We extend the same invitation to all who feel safe among our international friends—to come, meet us, look into our eyes, and witness the pain, fear, confusion, guilt, anger, helplessness, and ignorance, but also the vitality, wisdom, and gratitude we feel for being able to dance and meet while others cannot.
In these difficult times, we wonder how we can hold on
—how we can bring light into this darkness.
Some of us volunteer to help those affected, while others work to build bridges between Jews, Muslims, Christians, and Druze.
Some manage to dance while others cannot.
Hope is hard to find,
but we know that if it is to come, it will arise from our ability to build bridges, to meet as human beings, and to recognize and accept each other's opinions, hopes, and fears.
With this belief, we have decided to gather in December to continue the tradition of our yearly CI conference in this land. Our goal is to create a space as safe as possible for people to soften, regulate, be vulnerable, unwind, and express themselves through dance. We aim to maintain our mental and physical health, reconnect with our senses, and recharge.
We respect and understand those of you who choose not to come to the land during these times for various reasons. At the same time, we appreciate and respect those who wish to join us—to meet, reflect, and dance with the questions and complexities we face. Together, we will seek possibilities within the seemingly impossible.
We long for and pray for the day when all the people of this region can live in peace, free from fear and hatred, and perhaps even dance together—touching and being touched.