On a crisp November day in 1984, I first stepped into the small apartment on Ramallah's main street that housed the offices of what was then known as Law in the Service of Man (a somewhat ungainly translation of the more universal al-qanoun min ajal al-insan — Law in the Service of the Human Being). The receptionist, who doubled as administrative assistant, sat in an entrance space immediately off a small glassed-in veranda. The dining room served as meeting room-cum-library. Two small bedrooms offered working space for researchers.
Shortly before Eritrea's declaration of independence from Ethiopia in May 1993, members of the Eritrean security forces arrived on the doorstep of the Regional Center for Human Rights and Development (RCHRD) in downtown Asmara, the capital. The center's director knew precisely why they had come — to shut down Eritrea's first postwar NGO.
"It's over for this generation of Islamic activists. We tried and failed, but time is on our side. We must plant the seeds for an Islamic future in the next generation through social change. We must alter the mindset and mentality of people through an Islamic value system. We do this through example and education. We do it quietly and with persistence." [1]
On January 7, 2000, Lisa Hajjar spoke with Abdallahi An-Na'im, a lawyer from Sudan and a prominent human rights scholar and activist. He is professor of law at Emory University. Transcription was provided by Zachary Kidd and funded by the Morehouse College sociology department.
Can you highlight some of the factors that contributed to the development of a human rights movement in the Arab world?
The observance of International Women's Day this year led me to reflect upon celebrations past, which have frequently revealed huge gaps in reality: a wine and cheese reception at UNESCO headquarters in Paris where well-meaning bureaucrats sang feminist anthems modeled on "The Internationale," or a March 8 gathering of angry upper middle-class Anglo-Canadian feminists in Vancouver who shouted egalitarian euphemisms through a loudspeaker.
In January 1998, unidentified gunmen entered a movie theater and small mosque near Algiers and massacred 120 men, women and children.
By the hunger of the children of Iraq
By the sound of frantic running in Kosovo
By the swollen bodies in a river in Rwanda
and Afghani women and the writers of Algiers,
I am a disbeliever
in everything that refuses to kiss full on the lips
the ones still living
and receive them in the bosom of the self,
no matter the religion or the nation or the race
Although millions of people around the world watched Bethlehem's millennial celebration on CNN, those not present on the scene missed some interesting background details. The event was held in an open square surrounded by five-story buildings, and by 10 PM, tens of thousands of people had crammed into the square. As we waited for the festivities to begin, a large, 20-foot high, bright neon sign flashed out the message: "The Municipality of Bethlehem Welcomes His Excellency President Yasser Arafat." I wish they would make up their minds: Is he king or president?
On a drab Beirut side street is a modest restaurant famed for its delicious cuisine. A favorite haunt of top PLO officials, journalists and various political hangers-on in years past, the restaurant still enjoys a thriving business, serving local residents, shopkeepers and a large and growing entourage of professionals working on projects under the auspices of a wide variety of non-governmental organizations (NGOs).
Abdel-Malek, Kamal and David C. Jacobsen.
Israeli and Palestinian Identities in History and Literature (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999).
B’Tselem – The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories. On the Way to Annexation: Human Rights Violations Resulting from the Establishment and Expansion of the Ma’aleh Adumim Settlement (Jerusalem, July 1999).
B’Tselem – The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories. Human Rights Violations by Israeli and the Palestinian National Authority Following the Murders in Wadi Qelt (Jerusalem, May 1999).
Salim al-Shawamreh, his wife, Arabia and their six children live in the village of Anata, half of which is classified as Area B (under Palestinian municipal control) and half — where Salim’s house sits — as Area C (under full Israeli control). About a third of Anata’s 12,000 residents hold Jerusalem identity cards. The rest are considered West Bank residents, and thus cannot enter Jerusalem, including the section of Anata classified as part of Jerusalem.
The solar eclipse on August 11, 1999 led some people to expect the end of the world. According to one report, three people committed suicide, sure the end was near. Others shut themselves in their homes expecting extraordinary events to usher in the eschaton (“end times”). Since a simple eclipse could cause such panic, despite our considerable scientific knowledge, one wonders what the end of a millennium might do to people, individually and collectively.
On September 14, 1999, the day after Oslo’s Final Status negotiations opened, Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak visited Ma’ale Adumim, the largest Jewish settlement on the West Bank. There he declared that this Jewish “neighborhood” would remain part of Israel’s Jerusalem. “Every house you build,” he promised residents, “every tree you plant here, will be Israel’s forever…”. [1] Final status negotiations represent the last stage of the Palestinian-Israeli “peace process” initiated six years ago. Long-deferred discussions about the future of Jerusalem, refugees, settlements and other issues are to be addressed by September 2000.
