"In memory of Iyad Samoudi, producer in charge of `Jenin, Jenin,' who was killed by IDF bullets, after the completion of filming on 23.6.02, in the village of Al Yamoun." This is the opening caption of Mohammed Bakri's documentary film, "Jenin, Jenin." The film, to be screened tonight at the Jerusalem Cinematheque and tomorrow night at the Tel Aviv Cinematheque, portrays Jenin residents' perspective on Operation Defensive Shield.

This week, right-wing politicians called for the cancellation of the screenings. MK Yuri Stern of the National Union-Yisrael Beiteinu faction argued that the film amounted to incitement. The Likud faction representative in the Tel Aviv city council, Yeshayahu Drori, contacted Mayor Ron Huldai and asked him to reprimand Alon Garbouz, the director of the Tel Aviv Cinematheque, or remove him from his job. These requests are surprising, given the fact that Stern and Drori did not see the film and based their remarks solely on rumors.

Had they bothered to ask the director for a copy of the 50-minute film, they would not have made fools of themselves. "Jenin, Jenin" is not a shocking film and the testimony heard in it is familiar to anyone who has ever watched foreign television reports about events in Jenin. Nevertheless, it is a sad film that shows Israel, as a democratic and enlightened state, in a miserable light. Even those who explain the horrors of war as stemming from an existential need, cannot silence its victims.

Bakri is barely present in the film, except for a few instances where he appears with his back to the camera or talking to Jenin residents. The camera moves from the ruins of the city, focuses on the sad faces and the strong eyes that refuse to shed tears. The testimony of the residents of the camp is unsurprising: they tell of soldiers who shot at the innocent elderly and sick, pregnant women and children; about children who were forced to serve as living shields; about soldiers who smashed the walls of homes in order pass through them; of the uprooting of fig, olive and palm trees.

Beyond the testimony, the most painful pictures are those that prove beyond a shadow of a doubt the horrors that took place in the camp. The camera roams over the walls of the destroyed houses and shows graffiti that says "The Jewish People Lives," "Betar Jerusalem" and even drawings of Stars of David.

The camp residents also criticize the Arab countries that did not come to their aid. "If only God would prevent them [the Arab leaders] from achieving sexual satisfaction and spiritual wealth," one resident curses. Another adds: "We thought that every Friday all the Arabs of the world would go out and demonstrate on our behalf. But the curfew continues and the Arab pressure didn't materialize." They are also angry at the United States. "When a Jew is killed, George Bush cries, but when an Arab is killed, no one cares," they say.

The film does not touch on the shaheeds, terrorist attacks and crimes committed by extremist elements among the Palestinians - Bakri did not set out for the destroyed refugee camp with a camera for that reason. Bakri is not obligated to film a balanced documentary for the sake of historical justice. The Israelis are indeed not presented in the film, but their side is shown every night on the news broadcasts. After all, when Israel apologizes to the international community for the killing of innocent people, the news broadcasts don't open with a list of the names and details of the Palestinians dead.

Israeli television viewers will also not see this film. Only a few will have the chance to see it at the Cinematheques.

But those who see it will not forget the words of one witness: "Children can be given birth to, houses can be built and even a wife can be replaced, but our feelings cannot be changed. Now we have only hostility in our hearts. How will they bring back the days when we were calm and agreed to live with them?"