Memoirs of Revolutionary Days. I received today the memoirs of Fathi Al-Biss (thanks Rami for sending it and for Leila for transporting it). Could not put it down. It is a story of a Palestinian refugee (born in 1951) who came to Lebanon in the late 1960s to study at my high school (International College) and later at AUB on a scholarship from a quaker foundation. He is nine years older than me but he was a famous name in studnet activism at the time I was a young student at IC. I remmber his name from the reportage of the Arab nationalist/leftist newspaper, Al-Muharrir which was the Akhbar of its time. He led the strikes and demonstrations at AUB in the pre-war period (and in the during-the-war) period. He was in the Fath movement. It brought many student days memories for me: of the time when this great guy in Fath wanted to recruit me when I was in high school: he was one of the non-showy types (unusual for Fath) and was decent and low-key guy (some of you know him and he is still a dear friend). He succeeded in recruting students at many schools: he was effective in non flashy ways (also unusual among Fath types). He got quickly mad at me when he discovered that I really detested Fath leadership and that I fiercely opposed Fath's ideology--or whatever you want to call it. He became very unnice to me when I would run into hin in those days (although he now denies it). Fathi tells a very interesting story and you re-live those days: with their hope and their frustrations and defeat. The book was banned in Jordan although the author was extremely careful in not offending the Jordanian regime. But what do you say about a regime that does not tolerate "extending one's tongue"--literally, that is the language of the law in question--against the rulers. I wonder whether it was about the story of when the mukhabarat guy `Abdul-Karim Al-Kabariti (later a prime minister of Jordan) was kidnapped from AUB in the early seventies (the Jordanian government suspeted Fath but the PFLP was behind it). A friend that I later knew was tortured by the Lebanese police to obtain information about Kabariti. The title of the book is Inthiyal Adh-Dhakirah: Inthiyal is an old word and I don't know why he used it. It has the meaning in old classical Arabic of digging out sands in the bottom of the well. So he wanted to say digging out the memory. The story of the period has to be told, and I often think about writing my own memoirs but I don't feel that my story has been completed, or that my tale is close to being told. I shall wait. The other day, my uncle (in his seventies) called me from Paris where he lives in retirement. He was active in the Movement of Arab Nationalists and was a close of comrade of Nayif Hawatimah. Wadi` Haddad, George Habash, and Hawatimah used to fight it out in my grandfather's house in Tyre (I had written about him before). He used to write for Al-Hurriyyah magazine in the 1960s when it was the mouthpiece of the Movement of Arab Nationalists. He was a close friend of Ghassan Kanafani, and was influenced by his stories. I urged him to write his memoirs, and he said that he thought about it. I told him that it may be hard for somebody of his personality: modest and very low key. He said that he would think about it. I asked him to write a chapter, and I would get it published. He said that he would write it but only for my own eyes and would not want it to be published. He told me how he first rebelled: against the family itself (the AbuKhalil feudal family). He got so influenced by leftist writings that he felt that his revolution should be first directed against his own family: he packed and left the home and went to Jordan (where he joined Haddad and Habash and then went to Cairo to study in College during the Nasser days). Fath Al-Biss tells an amazing story: in that Lebanon has changed. There were people who fought for Palestine from different Lebanese sects: this was before the rise of the wawa culture and the era of Arab rulers' dancing for Bush. This was prior to the Sunni-Shi`ite war. My friend `Issa recently told me during a visit to the US that he believes that the Iranian Revolution really changed it all for those of us in the secular left, and he is right. I will be writing soon in Arabic about the underlying causes of the decline of the Arab left. He tells the story of the AUB student, Toni An-Nims who heroically died fighting the Lebanese fascist parties near Sannin. And then things changed, and the guru of the Fath's Left, Munir Shafiq, himself became an Islamist. The sad part is the ending: you feel there is a shift from activism to business. He tells us about his business deals (book publishing and pharmacy) as if we give a hoot about that. But it is an interesting story nevertheless and the author succeeds in making you live those times. I don't want to say more lest I get too emotional.

PS And he tells the story of a cruel American principal at our school, the International College. I still remember his name: Mr. Sullivan. He was blatantly abusive and treated the natives like they were slaves. I detested that man at the age of 10, and he represented to an earlier leftist the epitome of American imperialism. He also was an art teacher, and we did not see the fruits of his art work (although he once later took me aside and gave me good tips about how to draw the human head). Once, I was singing a song by Wadi` As-Safi in art class. I still remember the song:
لارميلك حالي من العالي وقلك هديني
For me, it was a hilarious song. Wadi` As-Safi was singing to the beloved: I shall throw myself at you from atop, and tell you to catch me. The image of As-Safi` throwing himself into the arms of the beloved was--and will always be--very hilarious. So he was pissed that I was singing in art class. He gave me a disciplinary report and I could not understand the offense. I still don't. In later years, I would take my revenge at him. When we no more had to take art classes, I would to his art class when they were asked to go outside to sketch nature, and I would sketch all their notebooks. And as soon as they returned to class, he would tell them: that was AbuKhalil, go back again.