Issue: 3.06 | June 1, 2002 | by:
David Rohde
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Schooled in America, Seething in the West Bank NUHA KHOURI'S hands dance as she speaks, slice the air when she is angry,
twirl when she is exasperated, form boxes as she tries to explain a concept and
gently come together on her lap when she concludes. At the sound of an Israeli armored vehicle rumbling past her house, she
shrinks, at first, and then seethes. "Nobody has the right to decide if I can come out of my house," she said.
"Not some young man sitting in a tank who, if he changes the angle, can destroy
my house." At 36, Ms. Khouri may be one of the United States' best hopes for a durable
peace in the Israeli-Palestinian struggle. She lived in the United States for 15 years, received four degrees from the
University of Michigan and returned here voluntarily after the signing of the
Oslo accord to build a nation. She represents the thousands of Palestinians who
studied or worked abroad and returned here at the prospect of peace. It was
hoped that they would serve as an influential, moderating force, but the recent
Israeli offensive has undermined them in the eyes of other Palestinians and
tested their own beliefs. In many ways, she seems like an American liberal. She is a Woody Allen fan,
loved "Moonstruck," and she says she did not cry during "Titanic." She reads
Maya Angelou, Milan Kundera and Ha Jin and says her favorite book is Gabriel
García Márquez's "Of Love and Other Demons." She voted for Jesse Jackson in the
1992 Michigan primary, loved her two months living in Greenwich Village and
hated visiting Utah. "Understanding Judaism" is one of the titles on her
bookshelf. She teaches students at Bethlehem University who come from the same refugee
camp as the teenage girl who killed herself and an Israeli teenage girl in a
bombing in March that shocked Israelis, Americans and the president of the
United States. Last month, another young woman, this one from a village only
five miles from Ms. Khouri's home, killed six Israelis in Jerusalem. The trend
leaves Ms. Khouri despondent. She teaches her students to resist by living, not
dying. But her anger flared when an Israeli patrol passed by her home. There is a
clash, she readily acknowledged, between her intellectual desire for restraint
and her anger. Her tension reflects the resilience of rage and suspicion here. She spoke in the musty Bethlehem living room she grew up in. Faded couches
sat on a faded brown carpet. Antique clocks ticked loudly. Her grandfather, a
Lutheran minister who moved into their stately limestone home in 1947, stared
down at visitors from a formal black and white portrait. Below the portrait was a satellite television. Ms. Khouri said she spent her
time confined to her house checking channels that reflect her two worlds, CNN
and Al Jazeera, the Arabic satellite channel. She spends the rest of her days
reading three books, "an autobiography of a woman in the Chinese revolution" and
"two trashy novels." BORN in Bethlehem and the eldest child of a prominent Christian family, she
attended a church school and protested when Christian administrators barred a
Muslim woman from wearing a head scarf in school. "It's her right, if she wants
to put something on her head," she said. "Now, if someone is telling her to put
something on her head it's totally different." At 18, she moved to Flint, Mich., virtually another planet. Her father,
worried about instability as the first Palestinian intifada brewed, moved his
family to Flint because his sister lived there. An inn operator in Bethlehem, he
opened the "White Feather Inn and Restaurant" in Piconning, Mich. Ms. Khouri enrolled in the University of Michigan as a freshman and spent the
next decade there earning two master's degrees and a doctorate in Middle Eastern
studies. Her young brother graduated from high school in Flint and became a
manager for a Ramada Inn near Washington. Her younger sister also received
degrees from Michigan. The family returned to Bethlehem in 1996 to join other Palestinians who hoped
to build an independent state. Both sisters teach at a cultural center that
produces concerts, exhibitions and arts classes for local youths. Her classes introduce Palestinians, both Muslims and Christians, to other
religions. Palestinians view her and her sister as "Palestinian women who are
Americanized or Westernized," she said. Unmarried, she is considered an old maid
here. A Palestinian once asked if she would consider marrying a man with less
education than she has. "I said `yes,' " she said. "I've seen lots of men with
Ph.D.'s who are really not very educated." MS. KHOURI'S years in Michigan made her American in some ways and Palestinian
in others. Her feelings about politics, family and her land are Palestinian, she
said, intense, passionate and loyal. Her views about women, and her pragmatism and optimism, are American, she
said. She recognizes Israel's right to exist and believes the creation of two
states is the key to peace. She would like to see a Palestine made up of all of
the West Bank and Gaza Strip, but believes Palestinians may be forced to settle
for less. She added, "We will have a state. There is no doubt about it." But with a standoff between Israeli and Palestinian forces dragging on in the
nearby Church of the Nativity, Israeli forces have confined Bethlehem residents
to their homes for the last 32 days. The military curfew is lifted for four
hours every three days. "We have to get out of the house," she said last night.
"I'm just going to die." The experience has radicalized her, as it has other Palestinians. She blamed
Ariel Sharon, the Israeli prime minister, for provoking Palestinians to
violence. Once skeptical of Yasir Arafat, she, like many Palestinians, now
defends him and criticizes Mr. Sharon and the United States for what she sees as
a "colonial attempt" to dictate to Palestinians who their leader should be. She
accused Israeli hard-liners of trying to bludgeon Palestinians to "give up our
land and be their slaves." But she also mourns over the conflict's increasing cruelty. Suicide bombings
are a wrenching statement about "the soul of the Palestinian people," she said.
"We lose some of our humanity with each bombing," Ms. Khouri said. She said that as soon as the military curfew lifted, she would go to her
office and "resist in a more clever way" by going online. She helps produce a
pro-Palestinian newsletter that is sent by e-mail to 3,000 civic and religious
groups in the United States and Europe. Her target is Americans, Europeans and
liberal Israelis. "We won't do it through suicide bombings, we will do it through engaging
people in conversation and making them understand they would not want to live
under occupation themselves," she said. "Thank God for television and the Internet and education." |
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David Rohde is a Pulitzer Prize winner, and he writes for thr New York Times |
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