Original subtitles

National Centre for Cinema and the Moving Image (France)

The 16mm negative of Leila and the Wolves,

conserved at the British Film Institute,

was scanned at the laboratories of the CNC,

which carried out the digital restoration.

The original magnetic sound was digitised by the BFI

and restored by Le Diapason.

This is Radio Lebanon, from Beirut.

What's going on?

Dozens of Lebanese have died in sectarian killings.

- Killed because he was a Muslim. - A Christian.

A Druze.

- A Shiite. - A Sunni.

Damn sectarianism!

For 70 days Beirut has been under siege.

Hurry, get to the shelters!

The Sabra and Shatila massacres…

Mr. Amine Gemayel has been elected president…

It just keeps starting again.

No, never! We don't want Lebanon partitioned.

Will this war never end?

Amina, I don't want to shock you,

but Grandma has aged, and the war has made her worse.

She's a bit forgetful now.

Your blessings, Grandma.

Happy Feast-day, Grandma.

Hello.

Hello, Mother.

Happy Feast-day.

Say hello to Granny.

Happy Feast-day.

Grandma, I've been studying abroad and I finished my PhD.

Whose daughter are you?

Maryam's!

Who is Maryam?

Maryam, your daughter!

Ah, Maryam.

Are you married, child?

Married… and divorced.

Don't worry.

Don't be sad.

God is kind. He will send you a man to make you happy.

God willing.

I'm Nidhal, Grandma.

Maryam's daughter.

Don't you recognize me?

I'm married too.

Any children?

Not yet.

Nothing on the way?

Nothing.

That won't do, child.

That won't do at all.

What are you waiting for?

I'm Rayya, Grandma. Don't you recognize me?

I used to be your favourite.

I'm Suad's daughter.

Who is Suad?

Your eldest daughter. This is her house.

Mother, I'm Suad.

Are you married?

Yes.

Any children?

Yes. A boy and a girl.

Only two?

Only two.

That's not enough.

You can only hold a man

through his children and his stomach.

And one boy isn't enough.

Will I become like that?

Never!

Leila and the Wolves

Written and directed by Heiny Srour

Featuring in multiples roles Nabila Zeitouni and Rafiq Ali Ahmed

This film is based on actual events

which are part of the collective memory

of the Lebanese and Palestinian people.

We don't blame the wolf for attacking the flock.

All the blame is on the absent shepherd.

Oh, pity the flock

with no shepherd.

It is easy prey

for the fangs of the wolf.

The walls of our country, O my daughter

are all broken down,

and its doors open

to any invader.

London, 1975

In the West,

no one understands why we Lebanese

want to organize an exhibition about Palestine.

I'm tired.

But Rafiq will come soon and say: "Great. Very good!"

Once upon a time

there was a beautiful country luminous with orange

and olive groves.

It was called the Land of the Olive Groves.

Both Palestine and Lebanon were part of it.

But one day

it was attacked by wolves.

Wolves with cold eyes

and pointed fangs

and blond hair.

Their hearts were black. As black as the clouds of their country.

Wolves everywhere…

Wolves in Palestine, wolves in Lebanon.

In Palestine the wolves grew stronger.

From that time onwards endless battles raged.

The people wanted to drive them out.

But alas how could they?

For soon

the old wolves

brought in new wolves,

as alien as themselves.

They sold them the land of this country, which wasn't theirs.

Their scheme was exposed.

The people were enraged.

In an instant,

the people took to the streets in protest.

Men spent many nights in prison.

But women did not keep quiet.

Their black veils, filled with anger,

flooded the streets.

Our neighbour Um Fawzi,

who lived there,

told me

when she came here as a refugee

how she and the women of her country

left their children hungry

and took to the streets shouting:

"Freedom for the heroes!"

Neither father nor brother could tie them to house or kitchen.

Neither fear nor the veil

could keep them off the streets,

nor the weapons in the wolves' hands.

And this went on for more than 50 years.

You're lucky, Grandmother.

You died

before seeing

this curse reach as far as the Lebanon.

Great!

Very good!

We Lebanese will soon be like the Palestinians.

Who would've thought it!

Nothing's impossible.

Only now we Lebanese are feeling the heat.

By the way,

tell the girls they must wear their traditional dresses.

You, I want you in your white dress. White suits you best.

With our soul, our blood

We'll fight for you, oh Palestine

With our soul, our blood We'll fight for you, oh Palestine

(Demonstration in today's West Bank)

Darling,

what have you got against women?

Me?

I adore women.

But the photos you chose show only men.

I don't remember seeing any with women.

Anyway, in those days,

women had nothing to do with politics.

("Dalouna" - a wedding song)

Oh earth of our homeland,

to us your smell is sweet.

As sweet as the lily and lime tree.

Oh, daughters, you martyred since long,

Your blood irrigated your country's earth.

And we who lived and died still grieve for you.

Hot tears scorch our eyes.

Oh earth of our homeland,

to us your smell is sweet

Oh earth of our homeland,

to us your smell is sweet.

Mothers, when duty called, we answered.

We died before our youth could blossom.

But gladly we gave our blood

in sacrifice.

O earth of our homeland,

to us your smell is sweet.

People of our village, people of our homeland,

Martyrdom

was not in vain

Anyway, in those days,

women had nothing to do with politics.

Fine!

I'll take you with me to see.

I'll even wear my white dress.

Soon battles will rage.

Rafiq, I'll put you at the head of the demonstration.

Palestine The 1920s

Palestine is Arab!

Palestine is Arab!

Attack them!

Dogs!

Help me!

Dog!

- Is the water boiling yet? - Yes.

Nawal, see if more soldiers are coming.

Can you see anyone?

More soldiers.

Quick, sister!

Pick it up.

Hurry up!

Careful, it might spill on your feet.

Quick!

Lift it up.

Dogs!

Good morning, Nawal.

What's the matter?

Why don't you answer?

Your father will buy you new ones.

That must be the work of your brothers, the devils.

Stop crying.

My father tore them up.

He's taking me out of school.

Why?

Have you got a suitor?

Who is he?

No one, but my aunt keeps saying

I'm grown up and should stay at home now.

What can I tell her?

Schooling makes

no difference.

Her father isn't wrong.

It's her destiny.

She'll end up married,

and spend her life having children.

There, there, child. What can you do?

Mother!

This is the second time this week you've burnt the food!

I work like a donkey for you and your children,

and I don't even have a decent meal!

I swear I'll get a second wife,

and she'll give you hell!

Look, sister.

Let me explain.

I'm always hearing such stories.

But don't believe it.

Do exactly as I say.

Do it today.

Cook some kibbeh…

and put in it

two drops of you-know-what.

This recipe is guaranteed to keep a man.

Then, sister, don't forget.

Do your cooking early.

Then have a bath and put on some kohl before he arrives.

When you hear his footsteps,

be ready with hot water

to wash his feet and massage them well.

And when he sits down to eat,

stay with him, pay no attention to the children.

I bet you he'll be happy with you tonight.

By tomorrow he'll have forgotten everything.

Help yourself, sister.

Leave us alone, child.

That's it, sister. Don't forget…

They better take care!

Our patience is running out.

Those impudent Jews…

…we'll shut their dirty lying mouths!

Beware Jews

Palestine 1936–1939

Each one to her lover,

but mine has gone.

Ah, if only the breeze would bring my lover back…

God give you health.

And to you, my child!

What are you scraping on the stones?

These are bullets, my child.

Our men fighting up there need ammunition.

How long must you scrape the bullets?

Two hours, before they can fit into the new guns.

All our jewelry was hardly enough to buy weapons.

They sold us guns without bullets.

The scum!

We found loads of them.

I knew the Turks buried their ammunition in the caves

after the last war.

The British also dumped all they had in Palestine.

Just think of the six-month strike against them.

Do you know, Rafiq, why people were able to resist for so long?

God give you health.

There, 200 loaves. Whose turn is it today?

Our turn. Our daughters will carry the water.

Look out for my son. I'm worried.

I'll watch him for you.

Careful! The wolves have long teeth.

The clothes will dry soon,

and we can take them with the food and ammunition.

God give you health.

I shall take you to this village in 1937,

when the fighters were surrounded.

This time I'll make you a traitor,

then play a trick on you.

Tell your master we have a wedding tomorrow.

Ask him: can we still have weddings?

Masters of this place, we came to your sanctuary.

We came seeking peace and rest.

You proved to be generous.

You lifted us in the palms of your hands.

And in return we shall raise flags for you.

For you, high on our lances we'll raise flags.

O family of Abu Seif,

God grant you prosperity!

Tomorrow Abu Maaruf's daughter will marry Abu Jihad's son.

The celebration is tomorrow at noon.

- You're responsible for two rifles. - Yes, I know.

Get yourselves ready!

God bless your house.

God grant the same good fortune to your children.

We came to your sanctuary to invite you.

And but for love of you we would never tread your earth.

We would bring a builder

to raise your glorious house even higher

Written on your door is: God give you joy!

Family of Abu Naamen, may God enrich your house.

Tomorrow, Abu Maaruf's daughter will marry Abu Jihad's son.

God grant prosperity to you and those you love.

The wedding is tomorrow at noon.

The bullets are under the henna and flowers.

Listen carefully.

As I serve coffee, sing the Song of the Henna.

When I serve sweets, sing the Song of the Comb.

Understood?

That means there are soldiers on the way.

Sing loudly

so that all the villagers will know.

Now sing the Henna Song.

Oh bride, your henna

is as green as grass.

Lovely creature,

where are you going?

Taking henna to the bride. God send you a beautiful bride.

All this is henna?

All the girls want to put henna

on their hair, hands and feet.

God send you a beautiful bride.

Well, I'll be going.

What a handsome man!

A pity you're a traitor.

Your mother goes around

inviting guests.

Your enemy

sits alone in her house.

Mother, soldiers!

Sing the Song of the Comb.

O hairdresser, take good care

of our bride.

Her seller has made a great loss.

Her buyer

has gained a treasure.

O you with the shiny scarf and soft eyes,

your dance, young girl, does you proud.

You with the shiny scarf and soft eyes,

your warrior father mounts his horse, what a horseman!

Then charges the foe, his rifle ablaze

Welcome, beauty!

May God blind them!

We'll become victors overnight!

Our loved ones are on Mount Carmel, awaiting us

Palestine is beautiful, she's my tender mother

How can I walk, Mother?

The fighters in the hills are suffering even more.

O the years of dearth, o years of hunger…

I'll sell my silver to buy you food.

God bless you God give you prosperity.

Bless you, O people of this village.

God bless you God give you prosperity.

You are the best of parents.

God bless you God give you prosperity.

Bless you, O people of this village.

May God protect the bride.

May God give her seven lives.

Happiness to the bride!

May God protect the bride

May God protect the bridesmaids…

Calm down, little one.

Palestine, 1938

No, my darling. Please calm down.

Hot as an ember.

His body is burning.

No, my love, no.

I should have taken him to the doctor yesterday.

No, my love.

Pity your poor mother.

Where can she get money for the doctor?

Where?

Come on, woman!

Give me your jewels.

The revolution is in danger,

and weapons come before everything!

Our boy is ill!

He needs a doctor,

I swear.

Trust God.

God will cure him.

Can't you understand? The boy needs a doctor.

Leave it to God, woman.

God is great.

All right. Take them!

There!

Go! And may God forgive you.

May God forgive you!

Lord!

Cure this child for me.

Cure him.

Haven't you taken enough?

My cousin

and my brother, both killed.

That's enough.

You won't spare anyone?

I've sold my gold,

my furniture,

my pots and plates,

and the rug,

for his father to buy guns

to defeat your enemies.

God, I'm begging you.

Lord, take the life of the newborn calf,

and spare my child.

Palestine, 1939

God has smitten us!

God has abandoned us!

God rejected us!

God cannot tell his friends from his foes.

Listen, villagers!

God has abandoned us!

God has rejected us!

God has abandoned us!

Listen, villagers!

God has rejected us!

Sister, calm down.

God has abandoned us!

God has cursed us!

Rejected us!

Calm down.

Thank God, you returned safely from the mountains.

What safety is this? All is lost!

Weep, sisters!

Lord, hold back my tears,

and I'll fast a whole month for you.

Lord, save us all,

and I'll wear black for you all my life.

Lord, save this village,

and I'll paint its houses until my back breaks.

My brother…

My dear son…

The walls are all painted and the men have returned.

I'll give you a nice role here.

Just wait and see!

Praise the Lord,

Nabil and Amer are back safe.

Congratulations on their return.

May God keep you safe.

God bless.

The cooking is done and the bread ready.

We just have to grind more wheat.

Tell your daughter to come out of mourning.

It's a whole year since her husband died.

That's enough mourning.

I've told her, sister, but she takes no notice.

So you want to marry me off again?

It's your cousin, and you'll marry him.

Do you prefer to marry that starving beggar…

and then come back here one day divorced, hungry, and pregnant?

Starving and naked!

You want me to rest. Work in this house never ends.

But you know, mother, why I'm sad.

I'm not mourning my husband,

but my lost love,

for when we love, we love but once.

Sa'id,

come and help me.

- Can you write? - Yes.

Write here.

"Eternal glory to our martyrs!"

And here.

"Long life to those who returned."

Thank you, oh God.

That's good.

Don't worry. In life we all get our due.

No more.

May God send you a husband to make you happy.

May God hear you.

Burying baby girls alive, an old Arab pre-Islamic custom

If the baby girl was asked for what crime

she was buried alive, what would she reply?

(The Municipal Elections

and a beach in Tel Aviv, about the same time.)

This black doll is the bride of Deir Yassin.

Before 1967, I thought I'd come back

to Deir Yassin.

Palestine, 1948 But they betrayed us once again.

For a second time they threw us further away.

My doll's name is Hayat,

and the village teacher, my mother's friend,

was an orphan,

but the village

was her family,

the schoolchildren like her own.

She was away on the day of the massacre.

When she heard the news, she came running back.

(The Irgun, "The National Military Organization in the Land of Israel")

Not that way! Force them down there!

Dogs! May God shame you!

Kill them! Fight them!

Don't die like sheep!

Keep that bitch quiet!

(Archives

of the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees)

1948

These are the guns given by the traitors.

Guns given by traitors.

Guns which blinded those who fired them.

(Archives

of the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees)

1967

1975

(A Palestinian Refugee Camp in Lebanon, before the Civil War)

Divorced!

Divorced after a lifetime!

After all this life…

My life is ruined!

The Palestinian women on the road of liberation

Tell me.

What's wrong?

Didn't you see her husband

carry away all his things and his five kids?

- Where has he gone? - To his mother's.

Then he'll say the boys need a woman to look after them.

So he'll get a new wife.

What an ordeal for her.

Come on.

Have a coffee.

Are you lot happy now?

Are these the results of "women's mobilization"?

Her husband and kids are gone because of you.

Men like that we can do without.

Of course.

She used to sew two uniforms a day. Now she can sew four for you!

The wife of a Fedayin must serve the revolution.

Serve the revolution? And who would serve him, then?

Who would look after him and his five kids?

The Revolution, sister!

Are you gloating or only justifying yourself?

You've never lifted a finger to serve your people.

And I never will!

Do you want my husband to take a second wife?

Lebanon 1975–1977

Welcome, madam, welcome. Come in.

We have beautiful dresses.

You came with the new collection.

Paris fashion is marvellous this year.

What can we offer? Soft drink or coffee?

Take special care with the fried fish,

and bring salads, hummus…

Hello, come and join us!

Our country, my daughter,

has broken walls,

its doors open

to any invader.

They have pillaged our land,

delivering it to the devil.

Our land and its people

have been handed over.

A soft-hearted old man…

that's who you'll be now.

All I can do is talk.

I've talked to her a lot, but it's no use.

Now she's packing, ready to leave.

Aida!

Aida, come in.

Come and have some coffee.

I'm off for arms training, but instead of being proud,

you just worry.

If your father was alive,

would he let you go?

Everybody is going.

Boys are one thing. Girls are another.

No problem for a young man wherever he goes.

But the girls are going too.

You'll regret this, child.

You'll really regret it.

One day you'll marry.

On that day,

all men are the same.

You know very well what I mean.

Of course I do.

But for our generation,

the homeland's honor is more important than people's gossip.

What an era!

God save us from worse.

Come on.

Read my future in the coffee cup. You'll see I'm in no danger.

What do you see? I'm sure there is no danger.

What do you want me to say, child?

I see a bad omen.

You'll do as you please.

You young men and women

are all happy now.

But tomorrow, God protect us,

when the situation calms down,

everything will return to normal.

How are you, Gran?

Didn't Wagih and Imad

marry girls their mothers chose for them?

That Nabil who you loved, didn't they say

he was forced to marry his cousin?

How many times have I told you?

Men marry for comfort.

And now you come back from the camp with tears in your eyes.

I knew it in my heart.

Girls like you and your friends

drive suitors away.

with your guns

and your endless politics.

How can God send you a husband?

Stop worrying about me, Grandma.

I didn't go to the camp to find a husband.

True, I saw things there which disgusted me.

But I don't know.

All I know

is that I am different from you.

I've tried,

I've failed.

But I had to try.

If I had my time again,

I'd do the same thing.

And I'll continue to try.

- Keep down! - Leave me alone!

You'll get us all killed.

None of your business!

We've flushed out the street.

There's no one left.

Cigarette, boys?

There were lots of them today.

Luckily we got them all.

Congratulations, boys. You fought well.

There may be more.

No, there would have been firing.

- I'll go help the others. - There are snipers!

So what?

Right! Go and get killed.

Randa! Come back, you madwoman!

Come back!

Crazy girl!

Come back, please!

Leave me alone!

I have to help them.

We'll meet again, Rafiq…

but I'll say no more.

She's a symbol of heroic motherhood.

Her three sons died. Long live the homeland!

God! What is that?

The enemy station.

Change it, damn them! Put ours on.

All her sons were martyred,

yet this heroic mother remains steadfast.

My God!

Haven't you finished? The fighters are starving.

We're doing our best.

What are you cooking today?

Vegetable soup.

What are you cooking today?

Vegetable soup.

Don't forget the meeting.

We can't come.

Why not?

When men gather together,

they become very rude.

It's not suitable for your sister.

Okay, but the next meeting is the election. You must come!

We'll go if we can.

Welcome, boys.

Welcome.

Neighborhood Meeting 14 June 1975

Hello.

In you go.

Why did you allow a man of his age to fight?

I swear he wanted to die.

Why is that?

He killed his daughter 15 years ago in a crime of honor.

He was filled with remorse.

He threw himself on death. What else can I tell you?

Some are drinking coffee,

others are dying.

- Shall I die to please you? - No, long life to you.

But I want you to act like a man. Are you afraid?

But this war is absurd!

Absurd? Even girls are fighting!

Let them! I can't bear the sight of blood.

You'll get used to it.

I don't want to get used to blood.

I can understand that you want to go abroad, son.

But to study ballet? No!

But it's my life ambition, mother.

What? To be a dancer?

To be a doctor or an engineer, I'll sell my jewels to help you.

People will…

To hell with people! Destroy my life to please them?

You and your dancing…

Do you still love me?

Of course, darling.

But…

for the last six months,

you've been acting as if you don't.

I've been depressed.

Since my office was hit, I've stayed at home like a woman.

But you lack for nothing.

Shall I live off your money?

So what?

My love, you're beautiful and sensitive.

You're wonderful!

But I only feel like a man when I work and make money.

I feel sad today.

What's wrong?

It's hard to explain.

What's wrong?

I wondered the other day, does he still love me?

No more flowers

amid all the bombs?

- It's not that. - Then why suspect the poor man?

How can I explain?

Yesterday, for example,

we went out to dinner.

He paid for the aperitif

and let me pay for the dinner.

But equality was your very idea, even in paying.

You wanted to assert yourself as an executive.

You know,

this equality is exhausting.

I often envy my mother,

who fought with my father

just to make him buy her a new dress.

Shall we play cards?

Who played the ace?

I did.

Dates are nice to eat.

But the trees are high. There's a beauty on the fourth floor!

- It's you who came yesterday? - Yes.

To fight or to womanize?

Why? Is she your daughter?

Daughter or not,

look up there again and I'll break your neck.

Quick, jump over the fire!

Hurry!

Go!

Over the fire!

No one walks!

Heads down!

Quickly!

Stay down!

Crawl forward!

Crawl!

Keep your heads down!

No one stands up!

Brother, look at me!

Brother, open your eyes!

Please talk to me!

God, help me!

- How dare you talk to me? - Who the hell are you?

Shame on you!

Stop it! Shame on you!

Just one more word!

Shame! His blood isn't dry yet.

He's a Lebanese martyr, he belongs to all of us.

Don't get near!

Shame on you!

The 40th ceasefire has been signed.

But you are advised

to remain indoors until further notice.

Snipers are still active.

But comrades, what about the objective conditions?

Rationalization!

- Hello, Aunt. - Welcome, girls.

You light up the house.

Here.

How are you, Najwa? How's your mother?

Fine, thank God.

Take one.

Go on, have a coffee. It clears the head.

God bless your hands.

God protect those young men.

Oh! Do be careful, child!

Why don't we see you any more?

Girls are very busy nowadays.

Help yourself.

Why has your mother stopped visiting?

She's too busy.

Tell her I blame her.

Help yourself.

Suad, how good to see you! I didn't recognize you.

You've grown so pretty since your engagement. Congratulations!

Help yourself.

I wish you all to be engaged.

Thank you.

I'll leave you alone.

No, stay with us.

No, you'll feel more free.

Right…

back to serious matters.

The situation is bad.

All the men are ready, but we too must take up arms.

They'll gossip about us. Think about Amine's wife.

Who's talking about her?

Those people she cooks for at the party office.

We'll get nowhere if we listen to gossip.

You live on the moon, we live here, in this village.

Discouragement is your special skill!

We can't ignore this story.

She cooks for fighters, and they malign her.

Let them! They'll stop when we start fighting.

Sure! You have no elder brother.

Shall we just bury ourselves, then?

Mother!

All that training and then just to sit back

because of a few swine in the village?

We were living in peace.

They want to change the world in one day.

Our way of life isn't to their liking.

They did as they pleased,

and the result is only trouble and heartache.

There's Najwa,

who spent nights tending the wounded.

The entire village is maligning her.

Who'll dare marry her now?

Then there's Manal,

who caused the death of her grandfather.

And poor Suad,

who was hit evacuating the wounded.

Disabled for life!

Luckily, her fiancé was a good man, he didn't abandon her.

Now she's married.

But what shall I do with you, my child?

You were the subject of the most malicious gossip.

The heart attack which almost killed me

wasn't for nothing.

Assemble arms!

One,

two,

three!

Dismantle arms!

Now reassemble arms!

One,

two,

three!

How many times must you be told?

Subtitles: Howard Bonsor

Subtitling: Hiventy

In loving memory of my Lebanese paternal grandmother,

Rachel Balaciano-Srour, divine storyteller of The Arabian Nights,

inspirer of the scenario.

To my Lebanese paternal grandfather, Isaac Srour,

a Jewish man who sang and danced marvellously

the cultural heritage of this film at Deir-el-Kamar.

To his sister, my grandaunt Leila Srour-El Baba,

for her sweet difference.

Special thanks