“I Gave Up Hope and Let Go of Despair – There’s a Lot to Do”
By Sagi Bin Nun
Walla News – Published 7 August 2025, 14:09
https://e.walla.co.il/item/3771015
A few days after the October 7 massacre, dancer, choreographer, and Israel Prize laureate Ohad Naharin created the slogan “Together We Lost.” The slogan was designed to resemble the Israeli flag, with a Star of David and blue-and-white colors. Nearly two years into the Gaza war, when Naharin was asked how despairing the current situation makes him and whether there is anything that still gives him a measure of hope, he replied: “My slogan now is: I’ve given up on hope and let go of despair — there’s so much to do.”
Ohad Naharin, 73, is not only an artist and creator who has received immense recognition in Israel — this year marks the 20th anniversary of his winning the Israel Prize — and admiration around the world, holding a status rarely attained by Israeli cultural figures. He is also one of the most prominent artists in political and social expression and activism. The new slogan he coined, or at least its latter part, “There’s so much to do,” was put into action by him this week as well — Naharin was involved in two of the most resonant events in the cultural world this week in an effort to influence and change the harsh reality of the war.
On Sunday, the controversial artists’ letter bearing Naharin’s signature was released (more on that later). On Monday, a first-of-its-kind fundraising performance during this war, by artists for the residents of Gaza, was held in Tel Aviv. Naharin performed alongside other cultural figures, and together they raised over 40,000 shekels for humanitarian aid to Gaza. This interview as well, in which he breaks a long public silence, is accompanied by — and perhaps even stems from — the feeling that “there’s still so much to do.”
Ohad, how has the war affected your creative and artistic work? Have you created new material that relates to the war? Are there any of your well-known works that have gained additional meaning, such as 2019?
“The building blocks of my works have always been made from what surrounds me, but I’m less interested in holding up a mirror to current events. I look for the small gestures, the personal, the beauty in the dancer’s form and movement quality, the groove, the silliness, and the ability to laugh at myself. What drives me are the passion and the power of imagination — mine, the dancers’, and my audiences’ — in order to create a personal narrative that isn’t solely dependent on local geography.
I’ve always been drawn in my works to themes like timing, spatial organization, delicacy, explosive power, precision, agility, the shifting texture of substance and body, form, musicality, volume, the scope of sensations, chaos, huge emotions, fragility, excessive force. However up-to-date I might be, trends have always bored me. The reason my works might be relevant to the current situation has to do with the fact that they exist in their own world and are not dependent on the changes we’re going through — perhaps a bit like elements in nature. Nature has no style that represents it. It is what it is. It is the essence. That is what I seek.”
What is the role of the artist and of art during wartime? How much of it, in your opinion, should hold up a mirror to the horrors — and how much should serve as an escape from them?
“Wartime and peacetime do not define the place of art in our lives. Take movement, for example. Almost every person, even someone in supposedly tranquil Switzerland, will admit to feeling imprisoned within their own body — and yet, the dancing movement of that body has the power to free that person from their prison. The act of artistic expression and the enjoyment of creation mark the difference between someone who does not create or love art and settles for mere survival, and the creator or art lover, who understands the taste of the art of living. This has happened and will happen even in the midst of tragic times and depths of sorrow. Even in times of peace and in places in the world with far fewer disasters and conflicts, life will almost always be hard for most people.”
Last week, two Israeli human rights organizations, B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights–Israel, for the first time published separate reports stating that Israel is committing the crime of genocide in the Gaza Strip, according to the definitions of international law. In addition, author and Israel Prize laureate David Grossman said in an interview with the Italian newspaper La Repubblica: “For years I refused to use these words, ‘genocide.’ But now I can no longer avoid it.” On the other hand, many in the Israeli public — including large segments of the center-left — reject this definition and even respond to it with anger. What is your position on this definition and on its denial by the majority of the public?
“In December 2023, I gave an interview to Haaretz in which I argued that anyone who wished to could already then recognize the criminal conduct of the government, and unfortunately also of parts of the army, driven by a thirst for revenge. Even at that time, enough evidence had been collected from the field — including public statements by members of Knesset and the government — and the scale of killing of innocent people. Yet people refused to acknowledge it and were angry at those who criticized the conduct in Gaza. It’s like receiving a diagnosis of a malignant illness and then directing your anger at the diagnostician instead of treating the illness and its causes — addressing only the symptoms. And my thanks go to the excellent B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights–Israel.”
Do you share the view of Grossman, B’Tselem, Physicians for Human Rights, and others that Israel is committing genocide?
“The terms ‘genocide,’ ‘crimes against humanity,’ and ‘war crimes,’ in relation to Israel’s actions in Gaza, have been dogging us for nearly two years in every international media outlet — and in the past month, on a tsunami scale. We did not become hated abroad because of a statement by David Grossman or due to some petition or another. We became hated abroad because of the atrocities we are committing in Gaza.
People outside Israel — unlike what is hidden from us here — have been seeing for a year and ten months what is really happening there. The evidence of one’s own eyes is infinitely more powerful and shocking than hearing or reading a statement of this kind. That is why, in their eyes, we have become pariahs.
What’s both astonishing and absurd is that there are Israelis who believe that the danger to their own safety and to the safety of Jews and Israelis worldwide lies in someone in Israel daring to call what is happening in Gaza ‘genocide.’ And it seems that their anger at such statements is far greater than their anger at the atrocities themselves — the very atrocities that Grossman and the artists’ letter rightly condemn.”
You are one of the very few major Israeli artists — certainly among those who have won the Israel Prize and received global recognition — who dares to speak out politically against the occupation and the war, and to acknowledge the disasters and pain experienced on the Palestinian side as well. How much does this silence, even from those identified with the center-left, sadden you? Do such statements come easily to you, or are they accompanied by concerns about reactions from your own camp and from the establishment?
“I don’t think in terms of left and center. If I identify myself with a group, I prefer to think that I belong to those who build rather than those who destroy. Everyone must recognize and should want to change the injustices of the occupation. Every citizen must be able to identify the criminal conduct of the government — otherwise you are either blind, in denial, or both.
People who identify as right-wing — the majority of the public — still, as human beings, I expect them to be able to recognize a profound moral transgression. When tens of thousands of civilians are killed, when entire cities are razed to the ground, when hospitals, shelters, and aid centers are bombed again and again — you can no longer talk only about ‘self-defense.’ If we continue to evade reality, we will lose not only our way but also the ability to find it again, and we won’t even notice that we have become a monster — as happened, for example, to Daniella Weiss and her associates.”
For the benefit of those who haven’t visited the Middle East this week, here’s an update: a storm erupted following a letter signed by about a thousand cultural figures — among them Naharin, David Grossman, Gidi Gov, Chava Alberstein, Yali Sobol, and many others — calling to stop the killing of children and non-combatants, to end starvation and the displacement of the population, to halt the war, to release the hostages, and to refrain from committing war crimes.
In response, many artists faced a backlash from media outlets, on social networks, and from fellow artists. Singer Idan Amedi called them “out of touch and spreaders of fake news” and “nothings.” Aviv Geffen distanced himself from the letter, saying it “portrays Israel as criminal.” Various bodies threatened to boycott them, and some artists withdrew their signatures, including Asaf Amdursky. For example, the Jewish National Fund (KKL) announced the cancellation of a performance by Alon Olearchik because of his signature — after which he retracted it.
What’s your opinion on this uproar — and what do you think about the statement by Walla culture critic Amit Slonim, who wrote this week in his column about the artists’ letter controversy: “Israel 2025 is a country where those who criticize may find themselves without work, branded as traitors”?
“As someone who has already been at the center of storms, I can testify that this is a storm in a teacup. In another week there will be a different storm, and everyone will forget the current one. My question is: how does any of this advance the release of the hostages? How does it advance the end of the war? How does it contribute to the effort to achieve a political solution and genuine reconciliation with the Palestinians? And the answer is unequivocal: It doesn’t advance any of these urgent issues. It’s just noise and a distraction.”
What were the heavy prices you paid in Israel as a result of your political statements and actions? For example, you were included in the aggressive campaign by Im Tirtzu and faced threats of budget cuts.
“I don’t know what the price is, because I don’t measure it that way. Im Tirtzu are the stem cells of the cancer that has spread through our body, and I am ashamed that they are part of my people. If they criticize me, it’s a sign that I did something good. I also know that if I stop speaking out and acting, it will be hard for me to live with myself and with everyone and everything dear to my heart.”
Your political statements have prompted harsh reactions, such as “traitor to Israel” and other terrible things we won’t repeat here. Does that hurt you? Have you ever spoken with one of the Israelis who spoke about you in such harsh terms — and perhaps even made them see things differently?
“I have tried, and I’m still trying — in conversations, debates, and unfortunately also arguments — to bridge the gap that people, even those close to me, have between their perception of reality and reality itself. But it’s very hard to reach their hearts and get them to see what seems so obvious to me.
For example, as early as October 9, I thought that the blockade [Israel’s former Minister of Defense Yoav] Gallant stupidly and maliciously imposed on Gaza was a mistake — one that would both lead to the deaths of innocent people and worsen the situation to the point of endangering all of us. I thought it would be better to stop the fighting, lick our wounds, take care of the bereaved families and the displaced, and use the momentum of the world’s sympathy — before we became pariahs — to bring the hostages home. A year and ten months later, it’s easy to see just how much Gallant and his partners were wrong and misled others.
Of course I don’t agree that I am a traitor to Israel. The real traitors to Israel are the members of the government. The traitors to Israel are the hilltop youth and their ilk, Im Tirtzu or The Shadow and his friends, for example — those who disgrace the very idea of being Jewish.”
On Monday, you took part in a fundraising performance for Gaza residents in Tel Aviv, featuring Jewish and Arab artists and creators. At the last minute, the event was moved to another secret location in Tel Aviv. Haaretz reported that the reason was threats against the event from right-wing activists. How do you feel about that? More than ten years ago, the late Natan Zach told me, “A left-wing artist could be murdered here.” Do you fear that?
“The truth? I’m more worried about being run over by a scooter on my way to work.”
You often point an accusing finger at Israel. Where do you see the Palestinians’ responsibility for the hell both sides are in? Don’t you sometimes feel that placing all or most of the responsibility and blame on the Israeli side is excessive and erases the Palestinians’ responsibility for the atrocities in Gaza and the West Bank?
“My finger isn’t pointed at Israel, but at the people dragging Israel into the abyss we’re in. What happened on October 7 was a horrifying, colossal, and unforgivable crime — but taking it out of the context of our ongoing cycle of violence with the Palestinians is a mistake. It’s the same mistake that keeps repeating itself without us ever learning from it.
In my work and in my life, I have found myself in many conflicts, and I can testify that I used to be much more confrontational. Over the years and with experience, I learned from people wiser and better than me how to turn conflict into dialogue. I realized that in most cases, it depends first and foremost on me — that the responsibility is mine, no matter how confrontational the person in front of me is or the situation I’m in. The same goes for the conflict with the Palestinians, especially given the balance of power between us. The responsibility lies with us first.”
Many leftists, human rights supporters, and peace advocates — people who are the furthest from being supporters of this massacre-driven government — feel frustration that even those Palestinians who are not involved in Hamas’s crimes and do not support it, rarely voice a clear stance against its reign of terror. Do you share that feeling?
“If I could truly put myself in the place of the Palestinians — to be an innocent Gazan and all that it entails — only then would I have the ability to voice criticism of them.”
The Gaza war has severely affected the activity, performances, and income of the Batsheva Dance Company, where Naharin serves as house choreographer. Many international tours were canceled, including in Japan, Germany, Italy, and the United States. In addition, several non-Israeli dancers left the company.
What cancellation surprised you the most?
“The company tours for many months each year. Batsheva is an Israeli company, but it is part of a global community of dancers, creators, and dance lovers. The cancellation of the tours cut us off from an important part of our community. For almost two years now, we have barely toured, and there’s no tour in sight. This has also been a severe economic blow to us.
As for the dancers — since its founding, the company has been made up of a human fabric in which half the dancers were from abroad. The same is true for most dance companies in the world. It’s one of the beautiful and positive characteristics of this art form. It’s very sad that we had to part with a number — not a large number — of dancers who were afraid to stay here and/or were under heavy pressure from their families to leave. They were replaced by wonderful new dancers from Israel and abroad, in the same roughly 50/50 ratio we’ve always had.
I should note that we filled the time from the canceled tours with content: we renewed, we created, and especially, we performed twice as much — and more — for a loving and beloved audience that filled every show to capacity.”
I have said and will say again: at Batsheva, we are not the victims here. The victims are the 1,800 Israelis who were killed and their families. The victims are the 90,000 evacuees, most of whom are still displaced. The victims are the hostages and their families. The victims are the thousands of soldiers with PTSD and the dozens of soldiers — mostly reservists — who return home and take their own lives. The victims are the tens of thousands of innocent people killed in Gaza and their families. The victims are the roughly two million Gazans who have been displaced from their homes within the Strip.”
In March 2024, Ballet Ireland announced it was removing from its repertoire a performance based on one of your works. Did that upset you?
“It disappointed me that the world has been painted in black and white, and that thinking about the place of art and culture in our lives has been distorted. I believe that artistic expression is what gives balance to our lives. In the face of evil forces, abuse of power, and the countless innocent victims throughout history — artistic expression has always stood as a pillar that gave meaning to human life. That’s why I find this cancellation disappointing.
As a movement researcher, I have the privilege of sharing my discoveries with thousands around the world. We learn to let go of old ideas to make room for better new ones. We recognize how much more alike we are than different. We understand that human values have little or nothing to do with national, geographic, or ethnic identity. We know that we will always be far from perfect, yet we can still create sublime moments.
It’s possible — and it pains me to say this — that there is indeed a place for painful sanctions on Israel by all countries that trade with us. There is no critical mass in the country capable of bringing about change from within, and only painful sanctions might lead to change when it truly hurts. Imagine what would have happened if only the United States had completely stopped supplying weapons to Israel as early as October 10, when there was no longer an existential threat to Israel. Many more hostages, soldiers, and Gazans would be alive today.”
At the start of the year, the BDS movement once again called to boycott Batsheva with a harsh message: “Stop Israel’s dance of death!” accompanied by illustrations of dancing skeletons. I still can’t understand why BDS boycotts even the most peace-seeking, human-rights-driven, liberal leftist artists like you or Achinoam Nini. Doesn’t that drive you crazy? Have you ever tried to talk to people in BDS, and do you still try, or is there no one to talk to?
“At Batsheva, we’ve been dealing with BDS for 20 years, at our performances everywhere — even in New Zealand. We had two shows there. At the first, there was a quiet protest at the theater gate. The next day, I had lunch with the organizer of the protest — a charming man, a dentist, originally from Lebanon — and it ended with the cancellation of the protest planned for the second day.
Many times I go out to talk with protesters, and I’ve also corresponded with them. Most of them don’t want to understand or acknowledge my position. I represent, for them, a company supported by state funds, engaged in what they call ‘art washing.’ People in Israel think they’re antisemites. They’re not. Many of them are Jews. They feel the pain of the Palestinians under Israeli occupation and, in a major mistake, think that boycotting us somehow helps the Palestinians.”
BDS found a surprising partner in their calls to boycott Batsheva: Minister of Culture Miki Zohar, who last December threatened the company “because of the Palestinian flag.” This brings to mind that in January 2023, in the first interview we held with Miki Zohar after he became Minister of Culture, we mentioned the harm to freedom of expression caused in the past regarding the performance Anafaza, and expressed concern that he and his government would harm this important right. The newly appointed minister promised in that interview that he would not harm freedom of expression. Well, he promised.
Looking back almost a year later, how do you view that uproar with Miki Zohar?
“Miki Zohar represents the problem that exists in the entire government and its leader. His actions — and those of the other ministers — are not the result of a clear worldview or a coherent political stance. On the contrary, their political stance and worldview are the result of their arrogance, malice, ignorance, lust for power, and the corruption they are steeped in.”
During his tenure, Minister Zohar tried again and again to trample freedom of expression. In November 2022, at a press conference launching a revival of Anafaza, when I asked if you feared censorship under the new government, you replied: “Let’s just say, if those will be our troubles, we’ll be lucky. We have much bigger problems than that. I want to remind you there’s no censorship in Israel.” You were right about the first part — since the Gaza war broke out, it’s clear there are much bigger problems. But you were wrong about the second. Censorship in Israel has reared its head again, under the auspices of this government. Does that worry you?
“I find it hard to believe that Miki Zohar believes in or cares about the power of art. He’s simply exploiting the event for PR with his base, while winking at his boss along the way. I’m not afraid of censorship, and I still know I have freedom of expression on stage and off. I do admit my mistake, when I said at that press conference that Israel is a democracy. Israel is no longer a democracy. It has become an ethnocracy: a political system in which one ethnic group holds disproportionate power and privileges, while others are systematically excluded and oppressed.”
On the one hand, over the years, you have not hesitated to voice sharp and harsh criticism of the state. On the other hand, you have received the Israel Prize from that same state, received state funding, and you and Batsheva to a large extent serve as ambassadors or representatives of the state abroad. How do you explain this ambivalence or gap, which could be seen as playing a double game?
“The Israel Prize and the support for my work were not granted to me by the government — certainly not the current one — but thanks to laws and codes that create a framework for how artists and artistic bodies are supported in our country, as is the case in many other countries. Every shekel given to a quality artist who encourages critical thinking is worth more than a shekel currently being spent on one coalition agreement or another.
Israel is my country, my homeland. My parents were born here, and my grandparents came in the Third Aliyah and drained swamps. There is no double game here. There is no game at all — these are my life, the lives of my family, my friends, my colleagues, who form a wonderful and high-quality group that does good in the world and deserves every possible support. What’s certain is that in a proper country, Batsheva would receive double or triple the support it gets now.”
In retrospect, should you have refused the Israel Prize at the time? After all, there was already an occupation then. And will you consider returning the Israel Prize now, in light of the government’s severe conduct?
“[David] Tartakover, the wonderful artist who passed away last week, was one of the harshest critics of the government — of all governments — and he agreed to accept the Israel Prize. If he agreed, then so do I. We have to remember that it’s the Israel Prize, not the Government of Israel Prize.”
During wartime, with enormous numbers of dead on both sides — even on days when the death toll soars — Channel 12 and Channel 13 continue to broadcast reality shows such as Dancing with the Stars and Big Brother. How do you feel about that?
“The problem with these channels, which I stopped watching, is not what they broadcast. The problem is what they don’t broadcast. Heavy responsibility and blame falls on them for hiding and distorting the truth from the people who watch them. I don’t understand how this happened — and continues to happen — to them. These are people, journalists, who are supposed to collect, check, analyze, and publish news information to the public professionally and ethically, in order to reveal facts and provide reliable context for events — and they are simply betraying their profession.”
After great successes abroad, and in the face of the ongoing hell in Israel, has the thought of leaving the country crossed your mind?
“Yes. Eri, my partner, brings up the subject — especially recently — and the option of leaving does exist. But I choose a different option: to live here.”
Batsheva’s new home is being built in Neve Sha’anan in Tel Aviv, near the old central bus station. On the one hand, it’s a collaboration with the local community. On the other, part of the local community is wary of the project because it appears to be a clear process of gentrification. Perhaps there’s a gap here between ideology and actual practice. What’s your view on this?
“We’re building a home not only for Batsheva. The spaces and theater on the campus are being built for artists from all performing arts. There will be two spaces intended for performances — a theater and a black box — which, with thoughtful consideration and proper design, will allow for the ideal meeting between artist and audience. Batsheva will be in these spaces only part of the time, perhaps a third, leaving room for hundreds of other performances each year. It will be a place that will set new codes to push culture and life forward. The magnificence of the project is hard to grasp, and unfortunately, most people will only understand it once we’ve finished building it.”
A few months ago, Dina Aldor announced her retirement as Batsheva’s CEO after 16 years. How do you feel about the parting, and how did your collaboration work?
“Dina is an outstanding CEO. Largely thanks to her, the company has reached the place it’s in today, and I owe her enormous thanks. She leaves behind a devoted and wonderful team, a balanced budget, a supportive and high-quality board of directors, smooth operations, and transparency. I foresee a challenging, positive, and exciting transition with the next CEO.”
Do you think about what Batsheva will be like the day after you?
“I can see a variety of possibilities, but mainly I invest in creating a high-quality present, with the understanding that this is the way to ensure the future in general — and Batsheva’s future in particular.”
Has Gaga changed the way you work?
“Yes — and it would take more than this space to convey how much. I’ll give one example: one of the most significant things in creating dance is the dancers’ ability to translate and interpret the choreography. That ability is what allows a performance to evoke powerful emotions, to be sublime, full of beauty, precise, and one of a kind. Gaga gives me and the dancers a language that allows us to communicate — both in process and in performance — that constantly updates the dancers’ ability to translate and interpret. The knowledge that there is always room for improvement turns the studio and the stage into a research lab. The awareness of the endlessness of these discoveries helps dancers throughout their careers and gives meaning and responsibility to their role as dancers and partners in the process.”
Do you still dance?
“I have to dance. It keeps me sane, healthy, balanced, and strong — and most of the research and discoveries in Gaga happen while dancing. I teach the company and give Gaga classes and workshops for the public. In a Gaga class, you dance — and the teacher is obligated to do the class too. Even in rehearsals and creative processes, I often dance. Besides, to dance you don’t need an audience, or even music — so I often dance when I’m alone, even when I’m chopping onions for a salad or in the shower. You could say I’m dancing most of the time, even if you can’t see it from the outside.”
What have you discovered about the body at your age that you might not have known when you were younger?
“Gaga is a modular toolbox in which things are constantly being replaced with better ones. When I was younger, I didn’t have it. I’m recovering from an injury and focusing on understanding the movement habits and compensations my body has made for many years, and how to change them and acquire new movement habits that will balance, strengthen, and heal me.”
What’s your best advice for a young dancer?
“When you dance, don’t let ambition control you. Let curiosity, passion, the joy of discovery, pleasure, and other good things like that guide you — and never dance in front of a mirror.”
You started your life as a penniless kibbutznik, arrived in New York with nothing, built yourself from scratch, and became a globally recognized and respected guru. How much of that young penniless kibbutznik is still inside you? And how able are you to relate to the daily struggles and hardships of young dancers who can’t make ends meet?
“Perhaps thanks to the upbringing and safety net my parents gave me, I never truly worried about my financial situation, even when I was living on five dollars a day in New York. The dancers’ hardship pains me deeply, and I work to improve their material conditions. As long as I’m connected to Batsheva, I will work for the dancers’ well-being.”
What do you regret?
“The things I said and did that hurt people close to me, and the surgery for a double hernia that I let a bad surgeon perform on me at age 26, which caused irreversible damage that I’m still paying for today.”
After all you’ve achieved, what professional dream do you still have?
“To be a carpenter, truly.”
You became a father for the first time at 57, and last December, at 72, your family grew with the birth of your son Asa. How hard is it to be a father at an older age?
“Asa has a wonderful mother and sister, and he is a wonder with unimaginable sweetness. It gives me more energy than it takes, and I make sure to have plenty of free time for him, so for now — it’s all good.”
When Asa reaches enlistment age, you’ll be 90. Do you wish for him, like in Ze’ev Tene’s song, ‘May you never know the IDF’? And how concerned are you about your children’s future in this difficult country?
“As I told you at the start: I’ve given up on hope and let go of despair — there’s so much to do.”
We wish you a long, healthy, and happy life — until 120. If you could eulogize yourself at your own funeral, how would you do it?
“I want a funeral with no eulogies.”
***
We welcome you to read more:
- Interview in Haaretz (December 2023)
- Letter from Ohad Naharin on Gaga’s website
- Statement from Gaga Movement
Photo by Ascaf.
