Kaouther Ben Hania's The Voice of Hind Rajab caused an international outcry at last year's Venice film festival – a fact that the Oscar-nominated Tunisian director prefers to play down. "I'm a director. I don't usually like to talk about my films," she said. But this time was different. There was an unusually heavy burden of responsibility.
Awarded the Grand Jury Prize at Venice, the film was inspired by tragic real events. On 29 January 2024, Palestinian Red Crescent staff received an emergency call from Gaza. A five-year-old girl called Hind Rajab was trapped in her aunt and uncle's car, which had been hit by an Israeli Defence Forces tank while trying to evacuate the Tel al-Hawa neighborhood in Gaza City. The aunt and uncle and four of Hind's cousins were dead. As Hind repeatedly pleaded for help, the Red Crescent coordinators did everything they could to save her. The hours passed with no ambulance being sanctioned to reach her.
Ben Hania's films straddle the border between documentary and drama. Combining re-enactments and the original audio recordings of the emergency calls, which features Hind's desperate appeals, The Voice of Hind Rajab meticulously reconstructs the rescue attempt. "My main concern", Ben Hania explained, "was to make the voice of this little girl heard, and to express the pain and suffering in Gaza as a whole."
PAMELA JAHN: When did you first hear Hind Rajab's voice?
KAOUTHER BEN HANIA: I'm interested in politics and have been following what is happening in Gaza from the very beginning. After her death, the Red Crescent published a short excerpt from the tape recording on the internet. She kept saying, "Save me, save me." When I heard her voice, I felt like she was talking to me. It was as if she were asking me personally for help.
Until the premiere of your film in Venice, the case wasn't widely known.
Even in my family, no one knew about it. But for me, it's like, if you know Anne Frank, you should also know Hind Rajab.
The film vividly captures the desperation of the rescue workers in the face of the bureaucratic hurdles that prevent them from intervening. Were you shocked by the extent of official control on both sides?
I made a conscious decision to tell the story from the perspective of the Red Crescent employees. The headquarters where the calls for help come in is based in Ramallah. If they had sent an ambulance to Gaza from there without consulting the Israeli army, it would have been automatically attacked and destroyed. So it was all about proper coordination. They had to consult with the army to carry out the rescue operation – a horrific situation. Anywhere else in the world, an emergency doctor would be sent immediately if a child needed help. But not in Gaza. Anyone who wants to save lives there has to deal with Kafkaesque manoeuvres. That's the reality.
The film shows the coordinator Mahdi insisting on getting an official go-ahead and a secure route for the rescue mission. His colleague Omar is against waiting any longer. Have you asked yourself how you would have decided?
I can understand both positions. They want the same thing – to save the girl. Theoretically, the ambulance could be with her in eight minutes. But Madhi doesn't want to risk more lives by sending his paramedics out without permission. For Omar, who is in direct contact with Hind, the little girl in the car clearly takes priority. In the end, everyone loses. That is the real horror. For me, that is beyond evil.
Eight minutes turn into hours. Omar sketches the loss of time on a glass wall. Does the painted loop indirectly represent eternity for you?
We thought about how we could illustrate both the complexity of the situation and the time factor. I felt I had to give it a visual expression. The image was fitting in this case. Yes, the eight minutes turn into what was an eternity.
Did the Israeli government issue a statement explaining why they bombed the ambulance after it had been cleared for rescue?
Officially, they say they weren't there. But despite all the difficulties for international media to report from Gaza and verify facts, reporters from Sky News and the Washington Post were able to conduct a lengthy investigation afterwards. Sky News then published a satellite photo showing the tank on site. Regardless, Israel maintained its claim that the military was not involved. They deny it to this day.
Why do you refrain from any political interpretation of the events in the film?
I am not pursuing a political thesis; I am interested in empathy, in connecting people. That is the strength of cinema. Of course, the story inevitably [originates in] the real events surrounding Hamas's terrorist attack on Israel. It only exists because of the political context in which it is embedded. But there's no need to tell people again that on 7 October 2023, Hamas fighters invaded Israel from the Gaza Strip, overran military posts and attacked kibbutzim and the Nova music festival.
How did you approach the staging of events from an artistic point of view?
Filmmaking is about images, but also about sounds. Here, we fluctuate between the two levels in a special way. On the one hand, there is the open space, the glass-walled offices of the Red Crescent. At the same time, we experience the events in the car, conveyed by Hind Rajab's voice over the telephone. For me, it was very important to navigate between the document, i.e. the real sound recording, and the paralysing experience of helplessness that the Red Crescent employees are exposed to. One without the other would not have worked.
Did you initially have reservations about using Hind's actual voice? Was there any consideration of having her words spoken dubbed by an actress?
Before ruling out an option, you always put it on the table first. And sure, that was part of the discussion at the beginning. But then Hind's mother said, "I want my daughter's voice to be heard." That took the artistic decision out of my hands. At the same time, in my films, I always move between narrative and documentary, because for me there is no difference. It's always a fluid process.
How closely did you work with the Red Crescent volunteers who appear in the film?
The crucial thing was that I was allowed to portray them. I needed their consent and their absolute trust. They were close partners in the development of the script from the very beginning. During rehearsals, I worked with the respective actors and actresses. The team is exclusively Palestinian, and they all brought their own stories and their own pain to the project. Together with my cameraman, Juan Sarmiento, we decided that we would shoot long takes to give the actors the opportunity to empathise with what was happening. It was unlike any situation on set I've ever worked on before.
Did your emotional response to the emergency recording change the more you listened to Hind's voice?
When I heard the entire recording for the first time, I was so shaken by it that I seriously wondered whether I could make the film. The shock was enormous. But at that point, the team was already growing, and we had to play the tape over and over again. Still, the intense effect that her voice has on me has not changed since then. Every time I hear it, tears come to my eyes.
How did you get hold of the complete original recording?
The Red Cross provided me with all the information. I knew that Al Jazeera also wanted the material, as did the Washington Post. But when I finally spoke to the West Bank Ministry of Culture during my research, it turned out that the consul in charge knew my films – that was my advantage. That's how I got hold of the family's voice messages, the detailed exchanges between helpers and relatives, and all the protocols and reports that documented what had happened that day.
You were nominated for an Oscar in 2021 for The Man Who Sold His Skin and again in 2024 for the hybrid documentary Four Daughters. You must have been offered numerous projects from Hollywood since then?
Yes, but only pre-produced stuff. It's always the same: I'm a female director from North Africa. That ticks two boxes right there. But that doesn't mean I'm excited about the material I get offered. Filmmaking is very demanding. It takes time. It takes my full attention. I would never get involved in a project just for the prestige. I don't make that mistake. I'm far too passionate about what I do.
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