Latest news with #Resistance
Al Manar
8 hours ago
- Politics
- Al Manar
MP Fadlallah: Hezbollah Military Formulas Remain Active, Governmental Failure in Reconstruction Pushes Lebanon to Instability
Member of Loyalty to Resistance bloc Dr. Hasan Fadlallah recalled the anniversary of the liberation of the Lebanese territories from the Israeli occupation in 2000, highlighting the great role of the Master of the Umma's Martyrs Sayyed Hasan Nasrallah and the military commanders of the resistance in addition to the people who made all the sacrifices in order to reach the achievements. In this regard, Sayyed Fadlallah underlined the mercy of the Resistance in dealing with the members of Lahd treacherous militia, adding that Sayyed Nasrallah wanted to reassure all the Lebanese sects at that time. MP Fadlallah added that Lebanon is still enjoying the bless of the liberation, adding that the military formulas maintained by Hezbollah are still active. Regarding the Israeli violations, Sayyed Fadlallah reiterated that the Lebanese government is responsible for facing the Zionist enemy in coordination with the ceasefire monitor committee. When necessary, the Resistance will take the suitable decision in this regard, MP fadlallah added. Sayyed Fadlallah indicated that file of the prisoners is following a certain path that may not be directly handled by the government, without giving further details. Commenting on BBC report which shows its reporter with the UN troops in South Lebanon without any coordination with the Lebanese state, MP Fadlallah stressed that the Lebanese Army is tasked to address any problem caused by the UNIFIL troops. Lebanese Politics MP Fadlallah stressed that Hezbollah is not concerned with responding to every negative statement made against it, indicating that PM Nawaf Salam's negative remarks show that he has not adapted with the requirements of his post. 'None can distort the history about the Resistance role in liberating the Lebanese territories from the Israeli occupation.' Loyalty to Resistance bloc's meeting with President Joseph Aoun was positive, according to Sayyed Fadlallah who added that the president knows the Lebanese parties who are moving against his will to maintain stability in the country. Commenting on the remarks of the FM Youssef Rajji, who is affiliated with the Lebanese Forces, MP Fadlallah underscored that some Lebanese parties moved their barricades from the civil war to the council of ministers. The Lebanese government is not assuming its responsibilities regarding the Israeli withdrawal and halt of attacks as well as the reconstruction project, according to Hezbollah lawmaker. The governmental reluctance to carry out the reconstruction project will cause instability, MP Fadlallah said, adding that Hezbollah has managed to provide the needed funds for housing and reconstructing the damaged houses of 400 thousand families despite the pressures and siege. MP Fadlallah affirmed that the political and administrative reform in Lebanon must be maintained, calling for observing all the laws passed by the parliament in this regard.
Ya Biladi
a day ago
- Politics
- Ya Biladi
Morocco: A groundbreaking study on the integration of migrant women and minors
The result of several years of research, the collective work Women and Minors in Migration – Journeys, Resistance, Integration has just been published by La Croisée des chemins, in partnership with the Council of the Moroccan Community Abroad (CCME). Coordinated by Fatima Ait Ben Lmadani and Hicham Hafid, the book explores «a little-known reality in Morocco, despite the debates—and even stigmatization—it provokes beyond our borders». With contributions from Rachid Benlabbah, Khalid Chegraoui, and El Mouassaoui El Ajlaoui, the book examines «the impact of Morocco's immigration policy on reducing the vulnerability of Sub-Saharan women and minors and facilitating their integration into Moroccan society». The authors address issues such as housing, employment, healthcare, education, and cultural rights, as highlighted by the publisher and the coordinators. The book also delves into «the role of both institutional and non-institutional actors, with a focus on how Sub-Saharan migrants navigate integration mechanisms and assert their capacity to negotiate». What sets this study apart is its long-term perspective, a deliberate choice that enabled the researchers to «closely track this population, the evolution of their needs, and the public authorities' responses over time». In other words, the authors seek to explore «the integration process of women and minors through the lens of migrants as active participants in shaping these policies». This focus builds on the findings of a previous study by the research group on the regularization of Sub-Saharan migrants. The study combines both qualitative and quantitative approaches, including «individual interviews, focus groups, and questionnaires conducted along the Casablanca–Rabat–Salé and Tangier–Nador–Oujda corridors». This is further complemented by an analysis of legal and administrative documents, as well as «statistical, demographic, and economic data».
New Indian Express
a day ago
- Entertainment
- New Indian Express
Marcel Ophuls, the Oscar-winning filmmaker who forced France to face its WWII past, is dead at 97
PARIS: Marcel Ophuls, the Academy Award-winning filmmaker whose landmark 1969 documentary 'The Sorrow and the Pity' shattered the comforting myth that most of France had resisted the Nazis during World War II, has died at 97. The German-born filmmaker, who was the son of legendary filmmaker Max Ophuls, died Saturday at his home in southwest France after watching one of his favorite films with his family, his grandson Andreas-Benjamin Seyfert told The Associated Press. He died of natural causes. Though Ophuls would later win an Oscar for 'Hôtel Terminus' (1988), his searing portrait of Nazi war criminal Klaus Barbie, it was 'The Sorrow and the Pity' that marked a turning point — not only in his career, but in how France confronted its past. Deemed too provocative, too divisive, it was banned from French television for over a decade. French broadcast executives said it 'destroyed the myths the French still need.' It would not air nationally until 1981. Simone Veil, Holocaust survivor and moral conscience of postwar France, refused to support it. But for a younger generation in a country still recovering physically and psychologically from the aftermath of the atrocities, the movie was a revelation — an unflinching historical reckoning that challenged both national memory and national identity. The myth it punctured had been carefully constructed by Charles de Gaulle, the wartime general who led Free French forces from exile and later became president. In the aftermath of France's liberation in 1944, de Gaulle promoted a version of events in which the French had resisted Nazi occupation as one people, united in dignity and defiance. Collaboration was portrayed as the work of a few traitors. The French Republic, he insisted, had never ceased to exist. 'The Sorrow and the Pity,' which was nominated for the 1972 Oscar for Best Documentary, told a different story: Filmed in stark black and white and stretching over four and a half hours, the documentary turned its lens on Clermont-Ferrand, a provincial town at the heart of France. Through long, unvarnished interviews with farmers, shopkeepers, teachers, collaborators, members of the French Resistance — even the town's former Nazi commander — Ophuls laid bare the moral ambiguities of life under occupation.
South Wales Guardian
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- South Wales Guardian
Marcel Ophuls, filmmaker who forced France to face wartime past, dies aged 97
The German-born filmmaker, who was the son of legendary filmmaker Max Ophuls, died on Saturday at his home in southwest France of natural causes, his grandson Andreas-Benjamin Seyfert told The Hollywood Reporter. Though Ophuls would later win an Oscar for Hotel Terminus, (1988), his searing portrait of Nazi war criminal Klaus Barbie, it was The Sorrow And The Pity that marked a turning point, not only in his career, but in the way France confronted its past. Deemed too provocative, too divisive, it was banned from French television for more than a decade. French broadcast executives said it 'destroyed the myths the French still need'. It would not air nationally until 1981. Simone Veil, Holocaust survivor and moral conscience of postwar France, refused to support it. But for a younger generation in a country still recovering physically and psychologically from the aftermath of the atrocities, the movie was a revelation, an unflinching historical reckoning that challenged both national memory and national identity. The myth it punctured had been carefully constructed by Charles de Gaulle, the wartime general who led Free French forces from exile and later became president. In the aftermath of France's liberation in 1944, de Gaulle promoted a version of events in which the French had resisted Nazi occupation as one people, united in dignity and defiance. Collaboration was portrayed as the work of a few traitors. The French Republic, he insisted, had never ceased to exist. The Sorrow And The Pity, which was nominated for the 1972 Oscar for Best Documentary, told a different story. Filmed in stark black and white and stretching over four and a half hours, the documentary turned its lens on Clermont-Ferrand, a provincial town at the heart of France. Through long, unvarnished interviews with farmers, shopkeepers, teachers, collaborators, members of the French Resistance, even the town's former Nazi commander, Ophuls laid bare the moral ambiguities of life under occupation. There was no narrator, no music, no guiding hand to shape the audience's emotions. Just people, speaking plainly, awkwardly, sometimes defensively. They remembered, justified and hesitated. And in those silences and contradictions, the film delivered its most devastating message: that France's wartime story was not one of widespread resistance, but of ordinary compromise, driven by fear, self-preservation, opportunism and, at times, quiet complicity. The film revealed how French police had aided in the deportation of Jews. How neighbours stayed silent. How teachers claimed not to recall missing colleagues. How many had simply got by. Resistance, The Sorrow And The Pity seemed to say, was the exception not the rule. It was, in effect, the cinematic undoing of de Gaulle's patriotic myth, that France had resisted as one, and that collaboration was the betrayal of a few. Ophuls showed instead a nation morally divided and unready to confront its own reflection. In a 2004 interview with The Guardian, Ophuls bristled at the charge that he had made the film to accuse. 'It doesn't attempt to prosecute the French,' he said. 'Who can say their nation would have behaved better in the same circumstances?' Born in Frankfurt on November 1, 1927, Marcel Ophuls was the son of legendary German-Jewish filmmaker Max Ophuls, director of La Ronde, Letter From An Unknown Woman, and Lola Montes. When Hitler came to power in 1933, the family fled Germany for France. In 1940, as Nazi troops approached Paris, they fled again, across the Pyrenees into Spain, and on to the United States. Marcel became an American citizen and later served as a US army GI in occupied Japan. But it was his father's towering legacy that shaped his early path. 'I was born under the shadow of a genius,' Ophuls said in 2004. 'I don't have an inferiority complex, I am inferior.' He returned to France in the 1950s hoping to direct fiction, like his father. But after several poorly received features, including Banana Peel (1963), an Ernst Lubitsch-style caper starring Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jeanne Moreau, his path shifted. 'I didn't choose to make documentaries,' he told The Guardian. 'There was no vocation. Each one was an assignment.' That reluctant shift changed cinema. After The Sorrow And The Pity, Ophuls followed with The Memory Of Justice (1976), a sweeping meditation on war crimes that examined Nuremberg but also drew uncomfortable parallels with atrocities in Algeria and Vietnam. In Hotel Terminus (1988), he spent five years tracking the life of Klaus Barbie, the so-called 'Butcher of Lyon', exposing not just his Nazi crimes but the role western governments played in protecting him after the war. The film won him his Academy Award for Best Documentary but, overwhelmed by its darkness, French media reported that he attempted suicide during production. In The Troubles We've Seen (1994), he turned his camera on journalists covering the war in Bosnia, and on the media's uneasy relationship with suffering and spectacle. Despite living in France for most of his life, he often felt like an outsider. 'Most of them still think of me as a German Jew,' he said in 2004, 'an obsessive German Jew who wants to bash France.' He was a man of contradictions: a Jewish exile married to a German woman who had once belonged to the Hitler Youth; a French citizen never fully embraced; a filmmaker who adored Hollywood, but changed European cinema by telling truths others would not. He is survived by his wife, Regine, their three daughters and three grandchildren.
North Wales Chronicle
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- North Wales Chronicle
Marcel Ophuls, filmmaker who forced France to face wartime past, dies aged 97
The German-born filmmaker, who was the son of legendary filmmaker Max Ophuls, died on Saturday at his home in southwest France of natural causes, his grandson Andreas-Benjamin Seyfert told The Hollywood Reporter. Though Ophuls would later win an Oscar for Hotel Terminus, (1988), his searing portrait of Nazi war criminal Klaus Barbie, it was The Sorrow And The Pity that marked a turning point, not only in his career, but in the way France confronted its past. Deemed too provocative, too divisive, it was banned from French television for more than a decade. French broadcast executives said it 'destroyed the myths the French still need'. It would not air nationally until 1981. Simone Veil, Holocaust survivor and moral conscience of postwar France, refused to support it. But for a younger generation in a country still recovering physically and psychologically from the aftermath of the atrocities, the movie was a revelation, an unflinching historical reckoning that challenged both national memory and national identity. The myth it punctured had been carefully constructed by Charles de Gaulle, the wartime general who led Free French forces from exile and later became president. In the aftermath of France's liberation in 1944, de Gaulle promoted a version of events in which the French had resisted Nazi occupation as one people, united in dignity and defiance. Collaboration was portrayed as the work of a few traitors. The French Republic, he insisted, had never ceased to exist. The Sorrow And The Pity, which was nominated for the 1972 Oscar for Best Documentary, told a different story. Filmed in stark black and white and stretching over four and a half hours, the documentary turned its lens on Clermont-Ferrand, a provincial town at the heart of France. Through long, unvarnished interviews with farmers, shopkeepers, teachers, collaborators, members of the French Resistance, even the town's former Nazi commander, Ophuls laid bare the moral ambiguities of life under occupation. There was no narrator, no music, no guiding hand to shape the audience's emotions. Just people, speaking plainly, awkwardly, sometimes defensively. They remembered, justified and hesitated. And in those silences and contradictions, the film delivered its most devastating message: that France's wartime story was not one of widespread resistance, but of ordinary compromise, driven by fear, self-preservation, opportunism and, at times, quiet complicity. The film revealed how French police had aided in the deportation of Jews. How neighbours stayed silent. How teachers claimed not to recall missing colleagues. How many had simply got by. Resistance, The Sorrow And The Pity seemed to say, was the exception not the rule. It was, in effect, the cinematic undoing of de Gaulle's patriotic myth, that France had resisted as one, and that collaboration was the betrayal of a few. Ophuls showed instead a nation morally divided and unready to confront its own reflection. In a 2004 interview with The Guardian, Ophuls bristled at the charge that he had made the film to accuse. 'It doesn't attempt to prosecute the French,' he said. 'Who can say their nation would have behaved better in the same circumstances?' Born in Frankfurt on November 1, 1927, Marcel Ophuls was the son of legendary German-Jewish filmmaker Max Ophuls, director of La Ronde, Letter From An Unknown Woman, and Lola Montes. When Hitler came to power in 1933, the family fled Germany for France. In 1940, as Nazi troops approached Paris, they fled again, across the Pyrenees into Spain, and on to the United States. Marcel became an American citizen and later served as a US army GI in occupied Japan. But it was his father's towering legacy that shaped his early path. 'I was born under the shadow of a genius,' Ophuls said in 2004. 'I don't have an inferiority complex, I am inferior.' He returned to France in the 1950s hoping to direct fiction, like his father. But after several poorly received features, including Banana Peel (1963), an Ernst Lubitsch-style caper starring Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jeanne Moreau, his path shifted. 'I didn't choose to make documentaries,' he told The Guardian. 'There was no vocation. Each one was an assignment.' That reluctant shift changed cinema. After The Sorrow And The Pity, Ophuls followed with The Memory Of Justice (1976), a sweeping meditation on war crimes that examined Nuremberg but also drew uncomfortable parallels with atrocities in Algeria and Vietnam. In Hotel Terminus (1988), he spent five years tracking the life of Klaus Barbie, the so-called 'Butcher of Lyon', exposing not just his Nazi crimes but the role western governments played in protecting him after the war. The film won him his Academy Award for Best Documentary but, overwhelmed by its darkness, French media reported that he attempted suicide during production. In The Troubles We've Seen (1994), he turned his camera on journalists covering the war in Bosnia, and on the media's uneasy relationship with suffering and spectacle. Despite living in France for most of his life, he often felt like an outsider. 'Most of them still think of me as a German Jew,' he said in 2004, 'an obsessive German Jew who wants to bash France.' He was a man of contradictions: a Jewish exile married to a German woman who had once belonged to the Hitler Youth; a French citizen never fully embraced; a filmmaker who adored Hollywood, but changed European cinema by telling truths others would not. He is survived by his wife, Regine, their three daughters and three grandchildren.
