by AdminA Stage for Freedom: The Freedom Theatre in Jenin
Above the entrance, a simple sign declares: al-Masrah al-Hurriyya; The Freedom Theatre. Inside, a tall, commanding figure dressed in black orchestrates a whirlwind of motion: more than fifty children, ages nine to thirteen, climb onto tiered risers that double as the theatre’s gallery. Others scramble onto the stage, their hands streaked with watercolor, shouting, laughing, brimming with energy. The chaos is palpable, until a few gentle commands from Juliano Mer-Khamis, co-founder, actor, and filmmaker, restore order. The lights dim, and a hush falls. An interpretive dance lesson begins, with shy girls tentatively swaying to the rhythm.
This theatre, set in a dusty former United Nations warehouse in Jenin Refugee Camp, seems to embody its own drama. A Palestinian refugee camp scarred by decades of conflict. A space reclaimed for imagination. A stage where children, many of whom have never known freedom beyond the camp’s narrow streets, are taught to dream.
It is December 2006. The Freedom Theatre’s mission is audacious: to transform trauma into creativity, despair into possibility. Here, art is not entertainment; it is social transformation, a model for resistance, and a rehearsal for freedom.
The camp’s history is fraught. Just over four years earlier, in April 2002, Israeli forces launched a two-week military incursion into Jenin. Fierce Palestinian resistance met the attack, leaving much of the camp destroyed. Human Rights Watch reported 52 Palestinian deaths, including 22 civilians, and 23 Israeli soldiers killed. Homes were bulldozed with residents inside, civilians were used as human shields, and thousands were rendered homeless. Infrastructure losses alone were estimated at $46.7 million.
Yet the Freedom Theatre’s story predates this devastation. In 1987, Arna Mer-Khamis, a Jewish-Israeli peace activist, founded Care and Learning, sending volunteers into Jenin to supplement Palestinian education. Amid streets so narrow that children could touch both walls at once, creativity had little space to breathe. By 1993, over 1,500 children participated in arts programs, and Arna used her Alternative Peace Prize to open a children’s theatre in the camp. Her son Juliano documented these beginnings, and later tragedies, in the acclaimed film Arna’s Children.
“Childhood under military occupation affects every aspect of life,” Juliano recounts. “Socialization is the most basic thing; if children are seen only as individuals, their challenges deepen.”
After Arna’s death in 1995, the project waned. Many children followed divergent paths, some turning to armed resistance. During the 2002 invasion, Juliano and a small group of international volunteers returned to Jenin, determined to revive the theatre. By spring 2006, with modest funding from private donors and proceeds from Arna’s Children, the Freedom Theatre reopened its doors.
“Childhood is like performing art,” says Yonatan, an Israeli volunteer and young actor. “It requires freedom to express itself. Many children here carry deep wounds, which affect their ability to communicate, collaborate, and learn discipline. Drama teaches them space, and space is the first step toward freedom.”
The camp itself is densely populated: roughly 16,000 residents within one square kilometre, 42 percent of them children. Descendants of Palestinians from Haifa, Jaffa, and other cities lost in 1948 and 1967, most have never left the camp. Israeli military checkpoints further restrict movement, limiting access to education, work, and cultural exchange.
Yet within the Freedom Theatre, there is possibility. Fadi, a Palestinian volunteer, explains as we sit in the soon-to-be Ahmad el-Khatib computer centre: “The children have what they need to live, but the occupation prevents it. Here, we learn that freedom requires collaboration.” El-Khatib, a twelve-year-old killed by crossfire in 2005, had donated his organs to Israeli recipients, a symbolic connection that underscores the complex interdependence between people on both sides.
Elsewhere, children paint watercolours on the theme Do Not Forget Lebanon 2006, commemorating the Israel-Hezbollah war. Tanks, jets, burning homes, olive trees, symbols of shared suffering, line the walls. These artworks will travel beyond Jenin, to other Palestinian towns, and eventually to audiences in Israel, Europe, and Australia.
“We are political,” Yonatan says. “Not partisan, but opposed to the occupation. We support those who resist oppression. Our work trains the next generation to lead, hopefully through creativity, not violence. But we understand the context; resistance takes many forms under occupation.”
Under Juliano’s guidance, the children rehearse local productions like Jenin Camp and international classics like George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Their performances are acts of resilience: proof that even in a place where freedom seems impossible, art can create it.
The Freedom Theatre stands as a testament: under occupation, through tragedy and loss, Palestinians and their allies are nurturing a new generation. Here, the theatre is more than a building, it is a crucible for hope, creativity, and cultural resistance, forging the possibility of freedom where it is most needed.
Richard A. Johnson, adapted and enhanced from “A Dramatic Revival,” originally published in This Magazine, September/October 2007.