Rachel Corrie and Daniel Pearl?!

The artistic process is a funny one. Sometimes a playwright begins to write one play and winds up with another. This is a good thing. As Ezra Pound said, “If you know what you’re going to write when you sit down at the typewriter, don’t bother.” Originally commissioned by Ari Roth, the visionary artistic director of Theater J in Washington D.C., I had set out to reflect on the public reaction to the deaths of Rachel Corrie and Daniel Pearl. Ari and I had pulled our hair out a bit together over the controversy surrounding the cancellation of the New York production of the play “My Name Is Rachel Corrie.” Ari thought it might be interesting to dive into the currents of American Jewish debate surrounding this play and beyond. Ari wondered if Daniel Pearl’s tragic story was somehow a counter-weight to the controversy over Corrie’s. So I began to research these two very different Americans. I immersed myself in each of their narratives. I won’t go into what I found, here, but I will say that many people, including Daniel Pearl’s father, Judea, found the implications of a comparison between the two figures deeply troubling. There is no moral equivalence, they said, and to imply that there is, is insulting at best. I forged ahead, with great care. Contemplating the implications of moral equivalence, I discovered profound differences and fascinating parallels between the two. Then I traveled to Israel and to Palestine and began interviewing people who brought their own stories forward. These individuals became powerful voices in my play. Voices that transcend singularity because of their complex and surprising points of view. I was getting beyond American-Jewish issues regarding Israel by hearing from Israelis and Palestinians whose daily lives are affected by the conflict. Corrie and Pearl had served as emblems for me to explore a question Ari posed: can we be big enough, as a people, to grieve for all who’ve perished in this tragic story? They stayed in the play for several public readings as I made significant rewrites. And while the idea of grieving for the “other” remains a vital theme in the play, the central story outgrew the pairing of these two icons. They became a limiting polarity, the very trap the work seeks to transcend. The play has developed into the story of a man trying to untangle the competing narratives of the current struggle in Israel and Palestine. Amidst tremendous noise, he’s trying to listen to his conscience. A conscience that was forged at a young age in a political awakening at progressive Jewish summer camp. Some of the material I threw out was good stuff! But I’ll have to leave it for another play. You can find out about upcoming readings and more information about “A Jerusalem Between Us,” at aarondavidman.wordpress.com.