The woman walks up to the microphones and takes center stage with ease. Her mellifluous voice resonates seductively, turning tired propaganda into eloquent appeals for sympathy. The strong classical features of her face evoke memories of Maria Callas. But Hanan Ashrawi, 45, is a political diva, and her stage is the news. She is perhaps the most sophisticated weapon the Palestinians have ever fielded against Israel.
With her impeccable English and no-nonsense manner, the woman from Ramallah, in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, has lowered the volume on an emotional issue, replacing the stridency of kaffiyeh-wrapped extremists with subtle, carefully crafted arguments. It is a task she has performed with increasing frequency since 1988, when she made the first of many appearances on ABC's Nightline. Now she is the highly effective chief spokesperson for the Palestinian delegation to the historic peace talks—and, as a spark plug for the 33-man group, a tremendous influence behind the scenes. "Unlike most Arabs," says one White House official, "she can deal with Americans in terms they can understand." Filtered through personal experience of the cruelties of the occupation—and the ongoing turmoil of the Palestinian intifadah, or uprising, in the West Bank—Ashrawi's exhortations reverberate with particular poignancy. "Stop manufacturing tear gas," she says. "Stop sending military aid to Israel. Stop sending every Israeli soldier $1,000 a year. Your tax money should go to preserve life, not to destroy life." Through her words, Palestinians are emerging as victims rather than purveyors of violence.
When Israelis see the U.S.-educated professor of medieval literature on television again and again, speaking incisively and persuasively on the plight of her people, many simply throw up their hands, dismayed by her potential impact on American public opinion. "Where is Yasser Arafat when we need him most?" asks one Israeli after seeing Ashrawi in action.
Last November, George Bush sounded a clear note of warning when she was threatened with jail for maintaining contact with the Palestinian Liberation Organization, which is outlawed in Israel. Speaking to a group of Arab-Americans, the President said, "Hanan is on my mind." Tactfully, the Israelis chose not to arrest her. Ashrawi herself was never intimidated. "I never take orders from the Israelis," she says. "They may not like what I have to say, but you have to tell someone when enough is enough."
As a Christian Arab—her family is Anglican—and as a woman, Ashrawi is an unlikely representative for a predominantly Muslim cause with male chauvinist leaders. While conservative Palestinians carp at her religion and her sex, Ashrawi is immensely popular even in the smallest of Palestinian towns and villages. And her high profile there—and in the American media—has made her indispensable to the cause.
Ashrawi was born to play a leading role. Her father, Daoud Mikhail, was a doctor and landowner in Ramallah who helped found the PLO. Hanan, the youngest of his five daughters, was precocious and brave. She was able to read and write at age 3 and, though inclined to compromise, never ruled out action as a remedy for harassment. Her sister Huda, an artist living in Washington, D.C., recalls a big boy in first grade teasing Hanan—and being bonked on the head for his trouble. Says Huda: "He never bothered her again."
Graduating from a Quaker high school in Ramallah, Hanan attended the American University in Beirut, Lebanon, where she became an honors student and an expert in Chaucer. There she developed a passion for Scrabble and antique jewelry—and after hearing from friends and family, began to write melancholy poems about Palestinian life under Israeli occupation. She continues to write poetry to this day.
After the Six-Day War in 1967, Hanan, hindered by Israeli law, could not return to the newly occupied West Bank. Thus, in 1970, she decided to attend the University of Virginia as a graduate student. Says her adviser, professor of medieval history Hoyt N. Duggan: "At first I was worried she wouldn't do well because of all her outside interests [among them, Palestinian politics and feminism]—but then I discovered she was tutoring the bottom third of the class in her spare time."
With the passage of the Israeli law of family reunion in 1973, Ashrawi returned home. An avowed feminist, she was determined not to marry and immersed herself in politics. But around Christmas that year she met an acquaintance of her actress sister Nadia. His name was Emile Ashrawi, and he was a photographer and an amateur rock musician. She recalls, "I was touched by his looks. He had long hair and was obviously living his art." On New Year's Eve, Emile says softly, "We went dancing and have stayed together ever since."
Husband and wife, though, have different mind-sets. While disliking violence, she will not rule out action if all else fails. "I am a pacifist," says Emile, who abhors politics, "but she is not far from it. The difference is that she is a realist, and I am a dreamer, floating in the air." She has conceded one point though. "If you want a future for Palestine," says Hanan, "you have to accept the existence of Israel."
Today, as his wife flies from capital to capital, Emile stays home raising their two daughters, Amal, 15, and Zeina, 10. "He's a magnificent father," says Hanan. "Strong, kind and good. He's not only supportive, he is my confidant and source of strength." Says Emile: "I want her to do whatever she wants to do. She has her life, and I have my life, and we have our common life. I have no right to tell her what to do."
And she keeps on doing—rushing from city to city, airport to hotel, debate to conference, incessantly puffing on a cigarette. (She goes through two packs a day of Salem Lights.) She sighs: "Somebody has to invent a longer day." The work has a personal price. "It affects the children," says Emile. "She knows it, I know it, the children know it. But we have to accept it." Hanan agrees. "Our parents were the dispossessed," she explains. "We are the disinherited. What I want for our children is independence and freedom."
HOWARD G. CHUA-EOAN
MIRA AVRECH in Ramallah and SANDRA McELWAINE in Washington, D.C.
- Contributors:
- Mira Avrech,
- Sandra McElwaine.
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