386
CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
"Ah, yes!" exclaimed Victoria Naasan, brightening. "It is
an excellent little paper. I know of it."
I went on to ask: "You are not afraid here—of the police,
I mean?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "One learns to live with fear,"
she said, with a little smile. "I am sure that they know I'm here
but for the time being, at least, they let me alone. They don't
think women can organize. The police laugh at us. They have
driven all the men underground, so the women have taken
their place."
"Are you very active?"
"The entire movement is quiet now. We do little openly at
the moment. Conditions are becoming worse every day. The
war in Palestine has hurt trade, and the merchant class is unhappy. Thousands of refugees have arrived, and they are unhappy. The government is corrupt as well as bankrupt. There
is much dissatisfaction in Syria. We are working. In the meanwhile, we are cultivating valuable friends."
"Are the comrades from Russia giving any direct help?" I
asked.
"Russia is our great inspiration, though I myself have no
direct connection with non-Arabs. There is much preliminary
work to be done, but ultimately we will find leadership among
the Arabs. We do not need Russia."
I asked her if she worked with men.
"No," she said. "I have not worked with them because it is
haram [a term signifying "forbidden"] for a woman here to
be seen with them. I'm organizing women in ways which do
not arouse the suspicion of the police. The Moslem woman
desperately needs emancipation. She is a slave of the man, and
has no part whatever in managing her own affairs. The women
listen to me, and some are already doing effective work among
their friends."
"How did you become interested in the movement?" I
asked.
"I saw the conditions of the people in my native city of