Flowers of Palestine

I am the rose of Sharon, the lily of the valleys.

The automobile bore us along from Acre, city of ancient glory, vanquisher of Napoleon in days gone by, though events have left her desolate today; she reclines upon her bay like a peninsula, or like a lioness that seems heavy with young while in truth she is poised to spring, or like — with her lofty minarets and shattered walls — a prisoner who has broken his chains and stood erect to reclaim his freedom anew.

The car went on threading its way through the Plain of Sharon, fragrant with the scent of its flowers — narcissus and lily, anemone and iris — those flowers than which Solomon found nothing lovelier to liken to his beloved, whispering from the depths of a heart crowded with fair women: "As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters."

I turned to my companions in the car around me, and there they were: an old lady whom white hair had cloaked, laying beauty upon a beauty she had kept despite the turning of the years, and young men in the ages of the full moon, of whom the poet said, "Tomorrow is ours."

There was no avoiding conversation — the road was long, and the companion beside me was genial and cheerful, a young woman in an old woman's clothes, a girl in an aging body. She told me of her happy past, which she had defied the days to make happy, conquering the pain that must needs mingle with life. She told me of her fortunate family, husband and children — and no wonder, for she had breathed her lofty spirit into their spirits and made of them individuals who know how to meet the days' adversities with the smile of resolve. Then, when she went on to tell me of her English education and the valuable books she had read, I saw one of the young men turn toward us with a mocking smile on his lips. The quick-witted old lady caught it and hastened to say: "Do you wonder, my son, at my English learning? I was speaking the language before you were born..." The youth laughed and said: "Really, grandmother?" "Without a doubt," she said. "Come, let us do the reckoning: how old are you?" The youth said, "Twenty." She said, "And I am sixty, and I have spoken English since I was twenty. Do you not see, then, that I was speaking it twenty years before you were born??" The youth laughed, and we laughed, and the car went on bearing us along, leaving behind it Haifa, neighbor of Carmel since ancient times, city of clamor and movement, and — as they expect it to become — the port of the Mediterranean in the near tomorrow.

That is a story from the very heart of life, and it set me thinking of the women's renaissance in Palestine. So when I heard people speak of the daughter of my country as they speak of an illiterate marching at the rear of life's procession, I set out to search and to inquire, and then to present them to the people, to truth, and to history as they are — not as they were portrayed by pens that passed through the country in fleeting passage and formed an opinion resting on no research or scrutiny.

Palestine has been, ever since it existed, the focus of the Western world's gaze — that world which for a century kept watching for opportunities to pounce upon the sick man, as Turkey used to be called. Educational colonialism is the prelude to political colonialism: it is the preparing of the rising generation, men and women, to love the colonizer. That was a doctrine which held that whoever is schooled in a people's culture must come to adore them — and the days have shown the error of that doctrine. Thus the West raced to found schools in the Arab lands generally and in Palestine especially. In every city, and in most of the villages, you would see English, French, American, German, and Russian schools; even the Swedes founded themselves a school in the Holy Capital. Did all of these think of colonizing us, or did some of them do good simply for the sake of good? Did the Swedes, too, think of colonizing us, or are they among the good small peoples who draw near to God simply for nearness' sake, by dwelling beside the cradle of Jesus alone? God knows. In any case, and whatever the intention, justice and fairness require us to record an established fact: these schools were among the greatest factors in spreading learning and in drawing woman eagerly toward it.

The oldest founders of girls' schools in Palestine were the Sisters of St. Joseph, who in 1848 founded a number of schools in various cities; the largest of these schools is in Jerusalem, and it has today become a complete elementary and secondary school. A year after its founding, the "Talitha Kumi" boarding school for girls was founded, but it is still elementary.

In 1867 the English arrived with their society known as the CMS and founded a girls' school in nearly every city and village — so much so that small villages like al-Rayna and Kafr Kanna, or Cana of Galilee, near Nazareth, whose population did not then exceed a thousand souls, each had in 1885 an elementary school containing 70 pupils. In the same year they also founded the girls' boarding school in Nazareth, whose enrollment averages 120 pupils; it is thriving with them to this day.

In 1869 the American Friends founded eleven schools in the towns and villages, and then in 1882 founded two boarding schools in Ramallah near Jerusalem, one of them for girls, ending at the third secondary class; the number of pupils in it and in the day school beside it is 260.

In 1880 the Society of the Sisters of Zion founded a school which in 1933 became a complete secondary school and is still working actively in Jerusalem; likewise the Franciscan Sisters and the Sisters of Charity each founded a school for their order in 1885.

In 1886 Father Schmidt founded a school known by his name, which has today become the Schmidt College for Girls, with 400 pupils

and a class to train those who wish to take up the teaching profession. Father Ratisbonne, too, established a school for girls in Jerusalem in 1856 which is still known by his name.

The Russians came in 1882: the Russian Society — whose honorary president was the Tsar himself and whose president was the Grand Duke Sergius, brother of the Emperor Alexander III — founded girls' schools in most of the towns and villages, as well as two boarding schools: one for boys in Nazareth, called the men teachers' seminary, from which graduated eminent men of letters such as Mikhail Naimy, the late Nasib Arida, and others; and the second for girls, on a hill in Beit Jala near Jerusalem, founded in 1890 and called the women teachers' seminary, whose academic program is supplemented by lessons in home economics, sewing, and handwork. Up to 1914 a great number of women teachers graduated from it, some of whom held, and still hold, posts as teachers of Arabic and mathematics in the government schools — which shows how much attention the school paid to these two branches of learning.

And how long that school insisted that its pupils wear the dress of the people of Beit Jala of those days, despite its cost! If you looked closely at the photographs taken in 1906, you would see the long gown, made of the costliest broadcloth in winter and of silk in summer, embroidered on the breast in exquisite colors; the short jacket known as the damir; and the head-covering made of sheer white cloth — all of them a model of that historic dress.

And now, picture with me these hundreds of schools in the towns and villages, working and working since 1848 — all of them free, all of them providing books and school supplies gratis; and among the boarding schools, such as the English and the Russian for instance, some provide clothing gratis and take not a single piaster for the instruction. Then go deep into the large villages such as al-Rama, Kafr Yasif, Ramallah, Beit Jala, and others, and listen to the middle-aged women and the old women conversing in English; or watch an elderly husband and wife speaking Russian so that their children will not understand what they say. Then picture the hundreds of other schools founded in the present century, and how many girls have graduated and still graduate from them every year — and you will realize the measure of the Arab woman's education in Palestine, and that if a census of illiterate women were taken, their number there would prove no greater than the like of it in the most advanced of the sister countries.