The Most Dangerous Movie in the Middle East

The greatest threat to the fragile peace between Israel and Syria is not the latter's support for Hezbollah. It is not Syrian meddling in Lebanon, nor even—directly—Israeli control of the Golan Heights. No, the one thing most likely to cause another Syrian invasion is a tourist video at the Qesem HaGolan (Magic of the Golan) information center in Qazrin, largest city in the Heights.

Mind, this is not just any video. Most tourist videos are dull, shoddy affairs, with bored- sounding narrators regaling the viewer with all the things they can do in the area, seeing has how they have already bothered to leave their hotels. Not so the 'Magic of the Golan,' which is was not so much a video as a particularly intense acid trip. By the end, I was not only ready to visit the Golan. I was ready to spend my life sitting on Mount Hermon communing with nature, along with all the other happy people who seemed to be living there.

It is difficult to describe the video in words, for it had only a few. The audience was bidden to 'See,' 'Hear,' 'Feel,' and 'Smell' the Golan, but that was all. There was no plot, no narrator, no description of sites. Instead, we saw a sequence of short scenes, shot in the hightest of high definition, of the Golan in spring. A few images stick in my mind like remnants from a beautiful dream. Tanned, fit Israelis practicing Tai Chi before soaring windmills. Tall green grass bending under a spring breeze. Snowmelt pouring down the slopes Mount Harmon. Rain pouring over flowered hillsides, combined with mist falling from the ceiling. Dew beading on rich purple grapes. Water cascading down Nahal Devorah. All of this to soaring, majestic music. I left wondering what cruel twist of fate had conspired to keep me from the Golan, and how I could manage to stay. I wanted to sink down and become one with the earth, drink Golani wine, ride the wild herds of horses down to the Jordan.

Mind, this was last week. It was almost summer. The Golan was still beautiful, but it was also hot and dry and infested with flies. It bore more resemblance to the Hill Country than Eden. And for that matter, I have never seen a horse running wild over the heights, and I know for a fact that, if Israeli wine doesn't exactly suck, it's also not too great. But no matter. I was a man bewitched.

If there is another war with Syria, here is how it will start: Bashir Assad will come to Israel for some reason, perhaps for peace talks, perhaps to get a decent bagel. On his way home, he will stop in Qazrin, and on a whim, he will visit Qesem HaGolan. As he watches the video, he will tense up. His eyes will fill with tears as he realizes what Syria has lost. The bagel will turn to ashes in his mouth. All of a sudden, the three-quarters of the Golan that Syria already owns will mean nothing to him. He will have seen the magic of the Golan, and he will want it back. Assad will storm out, his fists clenched, and an hour later the Syrian army will surge again toward Qazrin. Because they too will want to See, and Hear, and Feel.

So I beg you, Israeli Ministry of Tourism, turn back from this path of folly. Fire whatever ad agency designed the Magic of the Golan. They are clearly brilliant, but brilliance like that is something Israel does not need. Remove the video and destroy all copies. Then find a bad narrator, preferably with a stuffy British accent, and give him a grainy, budget camera and inexperienced crew. Send them to the Golan in winter, when things are safely dead, or summer, when they are covered in flies. Replace the video in Qazrin at once. Then, perhaps, if it is not too late, war can be averted.