5 Broken Cameras (2012)

Film Review & Reflection: 5 Broken Cameras and the Urgency of Solidarity

Last month, I attended the Maluhia Movie Night hosted by Ka Lāhui Hawaiʻi, where the documentary 5 Broken Cameras was screened. The event was originally scheduled to show the Oscar - nominated No Other Land, a film I had been eager to see, especially after its viral moment at the Academy Awards. However, the screening was changed due to concerns over the film’s funding. Despite its powerful message, No Other Land is reportedly backed by an Israeli company, which violates the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement's anti-normalization guidelines. We were reminded that Palestinian liberation also requires us to break away from systems that continue to profit from or justify violence against Palestinians. Supporting independent Palestinian voices and work created outside of these oppressive frameworks is essential to that liberation.

Before diving into the film itself, I want to reflect on the screening experience. The post-film discussion was set to feature four panelists—Fatima, Ma’an Odeh, Dottie Lux, and Ashley Corri—with Healani Sonoda-Pale moderating. Each speaker brought their own connection to Palestine and Hawaiʻi’s shared struggle against settler colonialism and occupation. Unfortunately, the panel was interrupted by an audience member—an army veteran—who had what appeared to be a PTSD - related episode and became verbally aggressive. The situation escalated to the point where the discussion could not continue. While there was empathy for her condition, her actions created a hostile space that silenced important voices and prevented meaningful dialogue.

It’s worth noting that this individual has a documented history of harassment, violence, and legal trouble. Her outburst served as a disturbing reminder of how military institutions not only dehumanize others abroad but often fail to care for their own people once they return home. The incident also underscored the systemic nature of oppression—how it manifests through individuals, policies, and institutions—and why Palestinians resist any normalization of their oppressor’s presence. In contrast, Palestinian resistance is deeply rooted in a culture of love, compassion, and care for community—values that endure despite the violence they face and that offer a powerful counter to the dehumanization imposed by occupation.

That moment could have derailed the night, but one Auntie grounded us with a powerful Hawaiian song and a reminder to care for our thoughts, because they shape how we speak and act. That wisdom stayed with me.

The Film: 5 Broken Cameras

5 Broken Cameras, co-directed by Palestinian farmer Emad Burnat, is a deeply personal documentary that captures the nonviolent resistance of the Palestinian village of Bil’in. Told entirely through footage Burnat filmed over several years — each of his five cameras broken in the process—it documents the daily injustices of life under occupation and the resilience of a community fighting to protect its land from illegal Israeli expansion.

The story begins with the birth of Emad’s son, Gibreel, whose childhood unfolds alongside a timeline of encroaching fences, military raids, and community protests. As Gibreel grows, so does the movement. The film weaves together family life and political resistance, offering an unfiltered look at how deeply intertwined they are for those living under occupation.

One of the most heartbreaking scenes involves the burning of olive trees—an act of environmental and cultural violence. These trees aren’t just crops; they’re symbols of life and livelihood. Watching the community win a court case against the illegal Israeli fence, only to see a new concrete wall built in its place, illustrates the endless bureaucratic tactics used to dispossess Palestinians of their land.

Dottie, one of the panelists, made a powerful observation: it’s painful to consider how much footage it takes — how much evidence must be documented — for the world to begin acknowledging Israel’s crimes. And this footage isn’t new; 5 Broken Cameras was filmed between 2005 and 2010. Watching it in 2025, in the wake of the horrors post October 7th, makes it all the more chilling and urgent.

The Broader Conversation

Since October 2023, social media has brought the realities of genocide in Gaza to people’s phones in real time. The visuals have been devastating and impossible to forget. While October 7th was tragic, the Israeli military’s response has been grossly disproportionate, amounting to collective punishment of a population already under siege. The footage in 5 Broken Cameras confirms what many Palestinians have been saying for decades — this violence didn’t start in 2023.

The conversations the film sparked with friends and family have been complex. Some of my loved ones have served in the military, and while they sympathize with Palestinian suffering, their responses often include words like “complicated” or references to the historical trauma of Jewish people after WWII. My mom shared how many Jewish families, after losing everything during the Holocaust, sought refuge in Palestine — a displacement that tragically resulted in another: the Nakba. These reflections helped me understand how grief and trauma can be manipulated to justify new forms of violence and colonization. But recognizing that doesn’t mean we stop calling for justice. If anything, it means we must speak louder for immediate ceasefires, for liberation, for peace rooted in equality — not military dominance.

Final Thoughts

5 Broken Cameras is not an easy film to watch. It’s triggering, heartbreaking, and at times, overwhelming. But it’s also necessary. It forces us to reckon with what we’re willing to look away from and who we’re choosing to listen to.

If you’re not in a place to watch it right now, that’s okay. Just reading and talking about it matters. As the Auntie at the screening reminded us: be mindful of your thoughts. What we think becomes what we say, and what we say becomes what we do.

Now more than ever, showing up for Palestine—and for all oppressed people — means listening, learning, and refusing to normalize violence. The time for action is always now.

You can watch the full panel discussion on Ka Lāhui Hawai’i’s Facebook page here.

Directed by: Emad Burnat