Writer: Itai Erdal with Colleen Murphy
Director: Anita Rochon
The updated revival of Israeli-Canadian Itai Erdal’s polemical 2023 monologue about his experiences in the Israeli Defence Force, Soldiers of Tomorrow, has sparked controversy. On the one hand, pro-Palestinian protestors picketing a recent run in Vancouver objected to what they perceived as ‘highlighting the perspective of the oppressor’. On the other hand, commenters have attributed difficulties in securing venues willing to stage the piece, which is fiercely critical of what Erdal calls Benjamin Netanyahu’s “fascist” government, to fear of alienating pro-Israeli donors. Neither camp is visibly present at the Finborough Theatre’s press night, nor is it obvious why they would be.
The piece platforms frequently advocated left-wing perspectives on the origins of the ongoing conflict and the conditions leading up to Hamas’s October 2023 attack in Israel, none of which are likely to be novel to outside observers or Israelis themselves. Think a top-notch autobiographical TED Talk with musical accompaniment (Syrian-born Emad Armoush composes and performs) enacted with the aid of a selection of variously sized plastic soldiers.
Erdal takes pains to acknowledge the existence of contrasting viewpoints and his belief in Israel’s rightful place in the Middle East. What impresses is his refusal to conform to a simple binary viewpoint and, to a greater extent, what he has to say about the difficulties all soldiers, everywhere, face in balancing personal morality with the need to follow orders.
Erdal combines the history lesson with an excursion through his childhood years of “being told to hate Arabs” through a school system in which his history teacher confesses the textbooks are “full of lies”, to a fateful choice as an 18-year-old not to dodge military service. Sent to man infantry checkpoints in Lebanon, he sets out to do exactly what his mother tells him: “be kind to people”. That is no easy task when people are shooting at you, and Erdal struggles in vain to hold on to his faith that the IDF is “the most moral military in the world”.
Events come to a head in an encounter acted out with toys. An aged Palestinian woman crosses into Israel carrying an obviously ailing baby. Her son is wanted for questioning for terrorist offences. To what extent is it acceptable to push the woman for information when the baby clearly needs medical care? Contrasting viewpoints on how to handle the situation come from Erdal’s by-the-book platoon commander, Avi, and his left-wing best friend, Raphael. There is no solution here that will not threaten to traumatise (or worse) one or the other of the people involved: the human cost is painful to observe, and laid out with admirable even-handedness.
Soldiers of Tomorrow is not partisan propaganda. Nor is it really ‘theatre’, although it contains compelling drama and is never less than wholly engaging. But as a personal meditation on how institutional systems challenge individual morality, it works brilliantly.
Runs until 4 July 2026
