An American Girl Says: We Have Realized Our Shame

These are letters exchanged between Miss Loris Ikhlas of Jaffa and an American girl. Readers will recall the first letter, by Miss Ikhlas, which we published in a past issue; this is the American young lady's reply:

My friend Loris,

Gently, gently — be kind in your reproach, Loris! For we did not fully feel the tragedies playing their part in Palestine but for a letter that came from you today... a letter brimming with surging, rebellious feelings... a letter in which the spirit of struggle for right and justice shines forth, strong and poised... And no wonder, my sister, for your letter is an immortal piece of the literature of the soul, which you have engraved upon the pages of our souls... and a trace that a human being engraves upon the soul of his fellow man endures forever...

And so I took your letter, a few days ago, and read it to myself once and many times over; I recited it to the members of my family, and then to the members of the club — I being, for my part, its secretary... And at last I was asked yesterday to read it in church, and I did... Yes indeed, I mounted the platform, and whoever looked at me supposed I was bringing him an ordinary religious message; but very soon they faced the bitter truth... and very soon I saw the old and the children weeping... Those painful truths you described to us — we should never have felt them had they not come by way of you, for we no longer believe the truth of what our newspapers tell us — and you know best why!

Your letter is now the talk of the people of the city... We have printed copies of it and sent them to the neighboring cities, that other Americans may read it, realize the gravity of the situation, and retire into themselves to call themselves to the final reckoning...

Yes, we have come to realize that it is shame, utter shame, for us to dance at the weddings of our land while there are funerals in the land of peace which are the fruit of our haste and our greed...

It is shame, utter shame, that we breathe the air to live, and sing of freedom, and then breathe into the air the poison of our greeds — and kill...

This is the telling effect your letter has left in our souls, we the inhabitants of the city of Chicago. And if there must be anger against America, do not be angry with the American people.

I thank you for the valuable pamphlets with which you supplied us; I distributed them among most of the societies and clubs of the city, and we found in them guidance for our straying and a full exposition of the Palestine problem... I hope, too, that you will not deprive us of the like of these pamphlets from time to time, for propaganda is sufficient to make all the peoples of the earth understand your rights and your demands. And you will surely agree with me if I say that the Americans who back the Jews are a company who have swum in the sea of their deceitful propaganda... The Jews here spend enormous sums on their propaganda; and I remember telling you in person about the kind of pictures the Jews publish of the Arabs of Palestine — those that depict the life of the desert... So send us plenty of your pictures for publication in the pages of our newspapers and magazines, that those deluded people may see true pictures of the people of Palestine... And I hope you will supply us with everything newly published on the Palestine question, especially as the greater part here has begun to admit that the Arabs' struggle is not a national struggle only, but a struggle between right and might, between principle and interest.

As for your sorrow at not being able to carry the message of "Oslo" in the fullest manner, owing to circumstances and conditions, hear me answer you:

Your world today has no need of preachers of truth and virtue; rather, it needs a person who lives the life of truth... And here you are: instead of drawing virtue in words, you draw it in your deeds from day to day... And I, for my part, believe that you deliver the message of the world conference in Palestine better than we do — we the company of Americans... For the world is in need of a beautiful example more than of beautiful drawings... It is as though by your deeds you confirm the one who said: "Consolation is the best of worship... and the smell of medicines, to her who would serve God, is sweeter than

the fragrance of incense... and the faint light shining from the eye of the wounded or the sick is nobler than the light of candles in the temple..."

So, in God's keeping, my friend... work... and do not despair... and patience — for after the night there is a dawn...

And allow me to say, for myself and on behalf of my colleagues, the members of this club, that tomorrow we shall go ourselves to the city post office to send, by its means, to your side the first box containing medicines for your men and clothing for your orphaned children... I hope our first gifts will reach you at the earliest moment, and I beg you to accept them from sisters and brothers who take pride, all pride, in extending a helping hand to the Arabs of Palestine... And I still remember what you once said to me during our travels in Sweden: "A gift is not valued by its material worth; its value is the spirit that accompanies it." And as we entrust our gift to you, we entrust with it souls that ache for your pain and will rejoice in your happiness...

And how fine will be the day when America offers to the land of peace not only medicines for the ills of the body, but fruitful work and refreshing peace...

I hope the correspondence between us will not be broken, so that I may keep abreast of your news and sense your feelings — how the days have colored them — and I ask God that they be tinted with nothing but good fortune, victory, and prosperity among the blessings of life.

Farewell...

Your friend, Margarita