Personality of the Month: Mrs. Adwiyya al-Tabbakh Masoud

She believes in woman! They compel her!

By the strength of her weakness and the revolt of her calm — and you go along with me, my reader, in a sweeping rapture, flooded by the flow of taut phrases; they issue forth well-ordered and fall gently upon your senses like the trills of the nightingale, then spread through the salon... over the sleeping child... the coquettish flowers, and the tranquil air...

And who would dare to challenge, and to deny the strength of woman, when he stands before three roles — the most important roles life holds — played by a single woman, who succeeds in every one of them?...

She is Mrs. Adwiyya al-Tabbakh Masoud. And Mrs. Adwiyya sets off to tell a story as though she were speaking of any other woman — of anything it pleases her to speak of, except herself. Chance would have it that the third of our company was an intimate friend of hers, who took upon herself the labor of filling in the gaps...

Her first schooling was in Damascus, where she obtained the baccalaureate certificate, carrying it on to the 'Junior College,' from which she graduated holding the college's diploma of that day... And she worked beyond the diploma, plunging into the social field... Society was groaning... a rattle in its breast; it lacked a woman's hand, a hand gentle with it. So she joined forces with certain ladies, hands were clasped together, and she rose — and behold, the renaissance opened out into the Women's Union, which comprises fourteen societies.

We postpone the talk of societies and politics for a moment, and go along with the mother in the surge of her tenderness... A mysterious, sweet gleam brims from her eyes the moment she remembers her children... reinforced by the embrace the little child enjoys, till his breath grows fragrant with her affection and tenderness, and a flower blooms on his lips — a smile of happiness and contentment... And who but she should oversee her children's upbringing?... Her hand on their cheeks wipes away fear and doubt, her glances set their questionings at rest, and the flood of her tenderness comforts their sickness. Here Mrs. Adwiyya remembers the days when she was waging the electoral battle in Damascus — remembers how her son Humam fell ill at the summer resort, Hammana... What is a mother to do in such a position? She would watch through the night with the sick little one, and spend the day on the field of battle — the battle of the elections in Damascus...

And before we knock at the political side of her life, we lean toward society for one fleeting flutter, in which we listen to a summary of social life in Damascus; and who like her can speak of the developments of women's society —

she who represented the Syrian woman at the various Arab congresses.

Mrs. Adwiyya speaks of the Women's Cultural League, a society for charity and culture — it cooperates with the tuberculosis hospital, and offers provisions and clothing to families in concealed need. As for its cultural work — the first work of its kind in the East — it takes the form of a literary salon called the 'Zahra Circle,' named in auspicious tribute to Zahra al-Abed, the president of the society. The salon used to convene in her house, and gathered men and women of letters of the like of Khalil Mardam Bey, Ahmad al-Safi al-Najafi, Mary Ajami, Widad Sakakini. In the salon, the manner of speaking is not confined to the delivery of a lecture alone, but proceeds to literary discussion around all manner of subjects. Mrs. Adwiyya also works in the League of Arab Nationalist Women, which began its activity with the events of Palestine, then developed until it became the only society in Syria that carries on political activity — such as organizing demonstrations, and drawing up protests and telegrams to the Western states, and to the Arab ones when need calls.

The story of politics in Mrs. Adwiyya's life begins on the day woman was permitted to exercise her political rights. She then came forward as a candidate. She says that at the outset she was afraid of difficulties that certain extremists might set in her path; but she met with the exact opposite, for the chiefs of the most zealous quarters visited her and encouraged her, and assured her that the electoral lists would carry her name alone — that is, that they would not boycott the woman. Then came the battle... In it she won 23,878 votes without slipping a single fils into the hands of her electors; the government acknowledged 15,400 votes for her — a winning figure, except that the failure is owed to the success of the government's list in its entirety.

Mrs. Adwiyya did not feel the weight of the failure; rather, this step was a victory that encouraged her to think of returning to the charge and waging another battle in the coming elections. And she affirms here that her heart brims with optimism, and with hope for woman's political success.

Asked what she felt as she stood as a candidate, she answered: I waged the battle as a Syrian woman, not in the name of Adwiyya... And she assured her rival that she would keep the sporting spirit, in failure and in victory alike.

Mrs. Adwiyya boldly challenges everyone who says that woman is too helpless to do political work alongside her natural gift. Among the things she said: Woman creates politics in the home, and completes it outside... She was once put this question: On what basis will you wage the battle? She answered: I shall enter Parliament as a woman and as a mother...

Beside all this, Adwiyya the poetess does not forget to love the land, and music, and agriculture; the trees of her country stand as her children — she bends over them tenderly, and speaks of them with affection. Nature enthralls her: the blue of its sea, the venerable elders of its mountains, the permanence of its rocks... All this, after literature, politics, and society...