Badke(remix), a geopolitical problem child | part II

 Anyone who thought the worst was over after the premiere was sorely mistaken.
Initially, two performances were scheduled at KVS, on June 11 and 12. In the spring of 2025, a so-called “success option” was added for June 13. Jassi was to step in for Marah, who was expected at the Shubbak Festival in London. But this is precisely what an understudy is for: someone who can take over another’s role.

When the dancers come offstage on June 13, after a third standing ovation in a row, and open their phones in the dressing rooms, they find out that rockets are flying back and forth between Tehran and Tel Aviv. The bombs are also falling in northern Israel where the dancers have family. By the next morning, their return flights are already booked. But the airspace over Israel and Jordan is completely closed; about half of the dancers cannot return. We ask host families to extend their stays, reroute travel plans and they call friends. Some head south, toward Paris and Marseille, others West, to London. Eventually, the dancers reunite in Marseille, where Amir performs his solo at the Festival de Marseille, and where Hamza recently settled. The photos we receive show radiant young people on what looks more like a beach holiday than a group of stranded exiles. Let’s just say they’re making the best of it - something Palestinians are rightly praised for. On June 24, a ceasefire is declared and civil aviation resumes. By early July, everyone is home.

We often have no idea of the impact the geopolitical situation has on the lives of the Badke (remix) dancers. Take Samir, for example, shy and quiet, who decided, in view of the tour, not to return to the West Bank. Yet he runs a farm there and, together with Ata, a very popular restaurant in Ramallah. But he fears that he may face a travel ban from the Israeli authorities, like Ata, and be unable to leave the West Bank again. So he’s decided to move in with family in Chicago, using his American passport.

The first leg of the tour in September goes surprisingly smoothly: sold-out venues, standing audiences, and above all, diplomatic calm. Meanwhile, Maria and Amir are rehearsing a new version for the Dream City Festival in Tunis. We expect to send nine dancers to Tunisia. Samir and Mohammed are touring the U.S. with El Funoun, so two male dancers are unavailable; Amir steps in himself to fill the gap. Having toured the initial edition of Badke extensively and choreographed much of the remix, that shouldn’t cause too many problems. He brings in Maria, the missing member of Stereo 48, who has just given birth to a baby girl. The biggest hurdle for Tunisia, however, we already know: Israeli passport holders. They are not allowed in. But we know that something called temporary Palestinian passports exists. Some say they’re no longer issued - the sulta (Palestinian Authority) has other things on its mind. Others claim it’s still possible through the right relations. We’re going with the latter.
While President Abbas is addressing the United Nations via Zoom and the international community signs off, without Palestinian input, on a 20-point peace plan, the temporary Palestinian passports for our dancers are sitting on his desk, awaiting his signature. Once signed, the passports must be collected in person from the Ministry of the Interior in Ramallah. That obstacle is bypassed by a declaration at the Palestinian Embassy in Brussels, granting Maria the right to collect them on behalf of the dancers. The passports still need to reach those in Brussels. DHL takes too long. A friend of Amir carries them to Dublin; Amir flies them to Brussels. Together with the laGeste production team, everyone departs for Tunis.

Entry into Tunis is a breeze for Belgian passport holders, a bit more complicated for the Palestinian passport holder, and a complete failure for those with temporary passports who left from Brussels. The “T” (for “Temporary” before the passport number) arouses the suspicion of Tunisian border police. Where are your Palestinian ID cards? They don’t have any. Then who are you? Israeli passport holders?!
Yet Abbas and the PA themselves have declared these people to be Palestinians. Meanwhile, Dream City negotiates at the highest levels. Everyone is involved: the Palestinian Embassy in Tunis, the French ambassador - where is the president? There’s a signed letter from the Ministry of Culture, but that’s not enough. It has to come from the Ministry of the Interior. After 22 hours in transit, the rejection comes through and deportation procedures are irrevocably set in motion. The dancers are sent back to Brussels. By then, Maria has also arrived with her family. They are summarily deported to Amman. Their papers are confiscated and handed to the pilot, so Maria, her baby and her husband cannot even leave the airport during their layover in Istanbul.
These are heartbreaking, traumatic events. The Tunisian border police were far from gentle. Hours in transit without water, food, decent toilets, … But the hardest blow is the tragic irony of Tunisia’s stance. They do all this out of solidarity with the Palestinians. Tunisia has always opposed the Abraham Accords - the normalization deals with Israel that other Arab countries (including Morocco, the UAE, and Saudi Arabia) eagerly embraced. From that pro-Palestinian position, they accuse Palestinians from Israel of normalization and collaboration. Yet those Palestinians live as second-class citizens in Israel, fighting to preserve their language and culture.

We can hardly begin to imagine what it means to live among, and alongside, those who would see your fellow Palestinians destroyed and your history and culture erased. What it means for these Palestinians to grow up in Hebrew. Marah’s piece Language: no broblem deals with exactly that. I remember her words during the rehearsal process of Badke(remix): “This is the first time I can work in Arabic.” Tunis was Marah’s first visit to an Arab country - made possible only because she received her Belgian passport three days before departure.

And the performances in Tunis, you ask? There were many firsts: the first time with Amir, the first time Jassi and Marah shared the stage (they usually alternate), the first outdoor performance, and the first time with just six dancers.

To top it all off, it rained - right up to an hour and a half before the 4 p.m. show. At 4:10 p.m., the last tape was laid on the dance floor; we had barely done a sound check. But the six who remained unleashed their demons. They managed to exorcise their anger and grief, their frustration and misery, without reproducing or transmitting them to the audience. They danced as if each were two, the stage at Bab Souika overflowing with energy. Ten minutes after the performance ended, it began to drizzle again. Could it be that God exists after all?

Hildegard De Vuyst, artistic coordinator laGeste (October 2025)

Read also
Badke(remix), a geopolitical problem child | part I by Hildegard De Vuyst
Reflection Badke(remix) by Jeroen Donckers