On a quiet hill top just thirty minutes north of Jerusalem stands Birzeit University, the largest and most well-known of the four Palestinian universities. Except for the rocky terrain and lack of greenery, Birzeit looks like an average American liberal arts college. But once inside the school's doors it is obvious that the university is over five thousand miles from the quiet lawns of New England.
Birzeit is known to many Israelis as a hot-bed of anti-Israel activity. Indeed the University is home to students who grew up struggling internally with their national objectives while externally fighting the occupation. Many proudly admit that they fought the Israelis by throwing stones and planning mass rallies; some claim to have known students involved in planning suicide bombings, proving that at least some terrorism originated within the Green Line.
Because of the violent activity based at Birzeit, at one time over 80% of the male student body had served prison terms and more are said to have undergone serious torture. The road from the Palestinian-controlled city of Ramallah to the campus has recently been closed by the Israeli military for periods of up to two weeks. Many of the students from Gaza lack the visas required to travel between their university and their homes and remain stuck in the West Bank indefinitely. Students are proud to have fought against the Israeli occupation but are convinced that Israel's reactions in the name of security have been unreasonably harsh. Understandably, the student body is highly political, and everything on campus relates to the conflict.
The most popular major at Birzeit is political science, followed by related fields including Middle Eastern Studies. In contrast to North American schools, at Birzeit a majority of women study applied sciences while men focus on social sciences, preparing for careers in the Palestinian Authority civil service. Malik Taha, 26, came to Birzeit from Gaza to complete his degree in translation, Arabic to English. In order to finance his education, Taha works in the Palestinian Ministry of Civil affairs in Ramallah. A former member of the school's student council, Taha says that before Oslo, everything in the university was colored with politics; Hamas and Fatah supporters had separate cafeterias and representation in the student government reflected the politics of the larger society. But, he proudly affirms, "Now there is cooperation. Politics have become a minor issue."
The great rift between Hamas supporters and those who favor Arafat and the PA may have become less of an issue at Birzeit but politics still influence every aspect of university life. Loud debates, between the large majority of students who support the peace process and the strong minority who refuse to accept anything less than a Palestinian state from the Mediterranean Sea to Jordan, can be heard throughout the campus halls. Because Birzeit is attended by students seeking a secular education it does not have the religious Islamic element that calls for jihad and conversion of all to Islam. These students are more easily found at the Islamic University in Gaza.
Most students at Birzeit agree that the peace process has brought several changes to the university. Over a year ago it was under full Israeli rule and now the school is in "Area B," controlled jointly by Palestinian police and the Israeli army. Students are proud that their own people now have some control over the land where they study.
"Students walk around with their heads up high knowing solutions will be found for our troubles," says Jamilya Abu Tire, 23. "We now have much hope that our dream of studying in Palestine will be realized."
Nigel Parry, an Irish student who works in public relations at the university, disagrees. He claims that the Oslo agreements brought only disappointment and decline to the university. Parry explains that after the bus bombings in January and February of this year, Israel unnecessarily shut down the university by closing the intersection between the nearby settler road and the university road. Parry is convinced, "They [the Israeli army] could have closed the entrance to the settler road, they did not have to close the whole school." After a bus bombing in March, over 280 Birzeit students were arrested in a single day, a greater number of arrests than in any one year.
The peace process has brought some noticeable positive change to the university. Before 1994 the Israeli military forbade the study of chemistry, physics, law and medicine, claiming that much of the terrorism and violence against the army was planned in the West Bank at Birzeit with the help of students, and the Palestinians could use these disciplines in ways detrimental to Israeli national security. After Oslo, Israel agreed to loosen restrictions on Birzeit. Departments for the formerly prohibited sciences are currently being developed and a legal center recently opened along with a program in community health. The most obvious change on campus is that now, says Iyad Nassar, 25, "we can study without the fear that the Israeli military will come to arrest us. We can now focus on our studies, but we will not give up the struggle."
The struggle against the occupation still permeates every corner of the campus. Graphic photographs of the early October clashes are displayed, a marble monument lists the names of the "martyrs," those students killed by the Israeli army or in the war against them, while pictures of the individual "martyrs" are plastered on the walls. The cafeteria is loud with political arguments and praises of Arafat are heard in the halls.
Even inter-campus politics are influenced by the conflict. Ilik Nassar leads a dialogue group between Gazan and West Bank students, tensions between the two groups are a result of their different roles in "the struggle." The Gazans perceive themselves as the true fighters for the Palestinian cause. Nassar claims that most of the "freedom fighting," including suicide bombings and the mass demonstrations at the beginning of the Intifada, is organized and executed by the Palestinians in Gaza while the Palestinians of the West Bank sit in their larger homes and slowly reap the benefits of the struggle. The students from the West Bank see the Gazan students as poor and inferior and do not want to have much to do with them. This inner-Palestinian rift angers Nassar.
"There used to be differences between Gazans and the rest, between Hamas and Fatah. But then we served in jail together, and after 11 students were killed in the Intifada we should have learned that we are all fighting a common enemy. . . We are the real Palestinians. Those who were not in the country until 1994, they have no place in politics and in Palestinian culture. Those of us from Gaza and the West Bank have seen Birzeit change from a real Palestinian school to a European University. We must work together to keep the struggle and our culture alive."
Like much of Palestinian society, Birzeit has become more Westernized. But while many of the students might not relate socially to those at the Islamic University in nearby Gaza, their customs are not quite American or European. Many of the women here do not wear head coverings and do socialize freely with men. Nevertheless, according to Parry, the students do not date openly and the university does not host dances or other social events. "Students from Christian homes tend to be more liberal with dating. It depends on the family," he laughs. "But you won't see any hand-holding on this campus."
The student body is evenly divided between men and women, a ratio that fluctuates depending on the external political situation. A women's studies program was opened a few years ago and, interestingly, most of the classes are filled by men.
Students at Birzeit claim that the Palestinians are the most educated people in the world. While this is difficult to prove, it is clear that the local population takes education very seriously. Tuition costs about $250 a year, a far cry from the $20,000 plus of Ivy League schools in the US, but even this is a hefty price for people who live in an economy with over 50% unemployment. Those students who can find jobs work, and at least seventy percent receive full tuition scholarships after their first year. The university was once funded almost entirely by neighboring Arab states, but those sources stopped giving after the Gulf War in 1991. Now 60% of the school's funds comes from the European Union, 30% from tuition and the rest is collected through private donations.
The Bachelors' degree is a four year program but few male students finish on time. Ashraf, a recent Birzeit graduate who now works for the PA, explains. "It often takes a Palestinian five, six, even seven years to finish. And it's not because he's stupid. It is because we sit in jails and when we are free our school is closed."
Malik Taha, 25, a student of political science, believes that Birzeit is only one step in his education. "Palestinians have three schools. The first we grow up in, the second is this university and the most important one is prison. There we studied many things. They put us in jail and I met teachers from this university. They taught us and I read many books."
Birzeit is still living in the aftermath of the Intifada. The school still does not have a developed theater program because during the Intifada it was considered inappropriate to perform when a neighbor's son might have been killed. Birzeit still carries the stigma from the Intifada, when it was known as a center of political activism directed toward Israel. Yet today the mood is improving. Students are hopeful and busily planning their future careers. While they hotly debate the current political problems, they also manage to read quietly on the lawn and spend long hours playing in the computer lab. Many Palestinians are proud of their winning basketball team, but it is clear that Arafat remains more important in their daily lives than any championship game.
Dana Demb is the Israel Bureau Editor for New Voices.