With Open Arms

I do not know why we girls bristle at every young Arab man who marries a foreign woman, especially if he is among the finest of our young men in learning and culture. And I think we have a right to be resentful of it, particularly since it has not yet been possible for us, for our part, to marry a Russian or a Polish man, for example!!

It was in this resentful spirit that I met Mrs. Janina, wife of Professor Charles Issawi, professor of political science at the American University of Beirut and one of the most brilliant of our young men. I opened with the question, "And what brought you to our country?" Her face darkened, a wave of silent pain passed over it, and she answered me: "Do not remind me of the past, for whenever I recall it, it clouds my present happiness. But there is no harm in my recounting to you my tragedy — indeed, the tragedy of most Polish women."

Two hours passed over me while I sat, humbled, listening to her tell me of her life in Poland, then the details of the war and what she suffered from it, especially in Russia, up to her coming to Lebanon and then her marriage.

I remember well that no sooner had I finished my conversation with her than I went to Mr. Issawi to congratulate him on her, declaring that this is the kind of foreign lady at whose marriage to an Arab we are not angered — on the contrary, we are pleased by it, because she is not the sort who overwhelms the husband's personality, but rather nourishes his personality with her vitality and her high culture.

And I shall not deprive you, Madam, of her talk; rather, I shall give you the substance of it in her own words.

Mrs. Issawi said: "When I graduated from the University of Warsaw, my family sent me to Paris to complete my studies in history and political science. But I spent only one year in Paris, because the war forced me to return to Poland in 1939.

My father held a government post in Warsaw, and as the German armies drew near the capital we fled to a village in eastern Poland. We did not know that we would fall to the share of the Russian army until we awoke the next day and found the Russian army surrounding the village.

In view of my father's position in the government, we asked the Russian military authority in the village for permission to return to Warsaw. And how happy we were when the Russians welcomed our request and made easy for us the passports needed to reach Warsaw. And so we boarded one of the military cars, 'guarded' by a squad of the Russian guard.

But how painful was the shock when we saw that our destination was not Warsaw but Siberia — those biting, barren wildernesses."

Here she stopped speaking and passed her hand across her face, as though she wished to drive away the memory of those dark days; but I asked her to continue, and she said:

"What shall I tell you of Russia and Siberia and our stay there? I remained fourteen months in the detention camp in Siberia, and the sentence upon us was hard labor. I would go in the morning to the forest, where I spent the day cutting trees — and woe to me if I hesitated, for my lot would then be to go without food.

When my emaciation reached its worst and I could no longer carry the axe, I was transferred to another task: cleaning the swamps and carrying animal filth from one place to another...

As for food, I was happy if one day I won a small piece of black bread."

Here I noticed that she wanted to be brief in speaking of Siberia, until she said: "We remained thus until a division of the Polish army was formed in Russia and it was decided to send it to the Middle East. My father and my brother enlisted in this division, and so when it set out for Iran my mother and I were in its company, thank God.

We stayed two years in Tehran, where I worked in the Polish legation there, while my father and brother had gone off to the war front in Italy.

At last fortune granted me to come to this country of yours — and how happy I am at that. I used to hear of the generosity of the Arabs and their love of the guest, but I did not believe that you were kind to the stranger to this degree!! And so I breathed freely, and began going to the American University of Beirut to finish my studies, until I obtained my degree. And..." She laughed, and I asked her, laughing myself: And after that?

She answered: "Did I not tell you that your country is dear to me? Here I am today one of you: I married my professor at the university, Charles, and became truly an Arab woman. And I shall accompany my husband in his post to America to defend the Palestine question, which has become for me a second Poland. Yes, both countries are wounded, and I shall try to serve the one that is nearer today.

And I have begun studying the Arabic language, for it is the language of my husband and, in the future, of my children..."

And so I bade Mrs. Issawi farewell, filled with admiration for this new Polish Arab woman, whom it well behooves us to take as an example.