It takes chutzpah to betray one’s country. For Jonathan Pollard and Mordechai Vanunu, it also took a touch of madness.
That would seem to be the conclusion of the late Canadian filmmaker David A. Stein, whose last two completed works were documentary profiles of two notorious Jewish spies, one American, the other Israeli.
“Pollard” and “Vanunu” will be screened together as part of the 11th annual Contra Costa International Jewish Film Festival, on Thursday, March 9.
It makes sense to pair the films. Stylistically, they are almost indistinguishable: In both, Stein uses cheesy black-and-white recreations to tell the backstories, and both films feature interviews with many of the same talking heads, including Harvard law professor Alan Dershowitz and Israeli politician Avi Posner.
It’s not the most scintillating documentary filmmaking, but the two stories are undeniably compelling.
Pollard remains a cause celebre in the Jewish world, but for those unfamiliar with his case, Stein’s film serves as a useful primer, though not much more.
In the mid-1980s, filled with Zionist zeal, the young U.S. Navy intelligence analyst funneled “a vacuum cleaner of information” to Israeli agents, according to the film, resulting in what some consider the worst spy case in American history. On the other hand, Pollard’s trial, life sentence and harsh treatment in prison amounted to “one of the most unethical prosecutions I have ever seen,” says Dershowitz.
The film’s subtitle, “Betrayal,” could be viewed two ways. One is Pollard’s betrayal of his country. Although he spied for an ally, his crime was incontestable, and he even admitted as such.
That’s where the second betrayal comes in. After cutting a deal with the government, in which he thought he’d get some leniency for his full cooperation, Pollard was sentenced to life; his wife, Anne, was given five years. Even Israel, which benefited from the data supplied by Pollard, essentially abandoned him in the wake of American displeasure. Pollard remains unrepentant and incarcerated to this day.
Vanunu’s story is not dissimilar. The Moroccan-born Israeli worked at the top-secret Dimona plant in the 1980s, betrayed his country’s nuclear weapons program by taking pictures of the installation, then spilled his guts to the London Times (for a reported $250,000 in promised book rights). Almost simultaneously, Vanunu was kidnapped in Rome by Mossad, spirited back to Israel, tried in secret and sentenced to 18 years in solitary confinement.
Both men have their passionate supporters and detractors. As Stein’s films make clear, one man’s traitor is another man’s conscience-driven whistleblower.
Stein also tries to unravel the psychology of both spies, though with qualified success. Pollard, we learn, had wanted to be a spy for Israel since a post-bar-mitzvah visit to the Dachau concentration camp, and while working for the Navy struck some co-workers as a nut. Vanunu, on the other hand, abandoned the Orthodox Judaism of his parents and converted to Christianity, thus severing any emotional and spiritual ties to his country.
Both men apparently felt higher callings, and both claimed conscience as an excuse for their actions. But as Dershowitz points out, if conscience became a legal explanation for treason, the law would collapse.
Lacking much archival footage, and relying on talking-head interviews and recreations, Stein cannot be credited with great documentary filmmaking. Also, his pro-Pollard sentiments are thinly veiled, though he shows far less advocacy of Vanunu.
Considering both films are under an hour in length, neither can be considered in-depth explorations of the two fascinating cases.
But for most people, even most Jews, the Pollard and Vanunu cases have probably receded from memory, the details fuzzy or forgotten. For that reason, the two films serve as powerful glimpses into the outlying borders of law, conscience and justice.
“Pollard” and “Vanunu” screen 10 a.m. Thursday, March 9, at the Contra Costa Jewish Community Center, 2071 Tice Valley Blvd., Walnut Creek. Tickets: $5. Information: (510) 839-2900 ext. 256.