The recent emergence of a pledge within Hollywood, urging professionals to boycott Israeli film institutions, has raised significant legal concerns. The initiative, known as the “Film Workers Pledge to End Complicity,” has drawn parallels with the infamous blacklist era of the Red Scare, during which individuals were ostracized for their political affiliations. This modern iteration targets Israeli cinema, calling for a boycott of its artists and institutions under the guise of political activism.
The pledge, circulated by Film Workers for Palestine, commits signatories to refrain from working with Israeli film entities, including festivals and production companies, that are accused of complicity in “genocide and apartheid” against Palestinians. Critics argue that this approach effectively marginalizes an entire group based solely on their nationality. Notably, the pledge allows for exceptions for Palestinian-Israelis, yet it predominantly targets Jewish Israelis.
The FAQ section of the pledge claims that the majority of Israeli film institutions do not support the internationally recognized rights of the Palestinian people, thus justifying the boycott. While it mentions a few Israeli film entities that are “not complicit,” none are specifically identified. Instead, signatories are directed to refer to Palestinian civil society guidelines, which broadly exclude all Israeli institutions from collaboration.
In an attempt to navigate the legal implications of national-origin discrimination, the pledge asserts that it does not prohibit working with Israelis as individuals. It emphasizes institutional complicity rather than targeting identity. However, this assertion raises questions, as institutions are comprised of individuals, and many civil rights laws offer protections against discrimination based on race, ethnicity, or national origin.
The pledge encourages industry professionals to incorporate boycott restrictions into employment and contractual agreements, thereby embedding the boycott within the legal frameworks of the film industry. This includes screening vendors and suppliers and ensuring that the boycott is “enshrined into the legal contracts we commonly use.” Such tactics may expose participants to legal liability.
In light of these developments, the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law has intervened. The organization sent letters to major U.S. film industry stakeholders, including studios and talent agencies, warning them of potential violations of state and federal non-discrimination laws. The Civil Rights Act of 1866 prohibits discrimination against Jews and Jewish-owned businesses, including those owned by Jewish Israelis in the United States. Additionally, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits discrimination by federally funded organizations.
Both California and New York have laws, such as the Unruh Civil Rights Act and the Fair Employment and Housing Act, that forbid discriminatory practices in contracting and employment. These laws specifically outlaw blacklists and boycotts aimed at individuals based on their national origin.
The historical context of Hollywood’s previous blacklist during the McCarthy era serves as a stark reminder of the consequences of such actions. Many individuals involved in that movement faced lasting consequences, haunted by their participation in the destruction of careers and lives.
As the industry grapples with the implications of this latest boycott, the question remains whether it will repeat the mistakes of the past. Engaging in discriminatory practices against Jewish Israelis could lead to legal repercussions, highlighting the urgent need for Hollywood to reassess its direction.
Ultimately, participation in this modern blacklist targeting Jewish Israelis is not only ethically questionable but also illegal. The industry would be better served focusing on inclusion and dialogue rather than exclusion and division.
