17/4/97

Ilana’s one-woman peace process

   Ilana Basri was supposed to begin her retirement this week, but she’s still working -- thanks to an outcry from citizens of Arab countries.
    Basri has been hosting a radio program that for 24 years achieved what the peace process has failed to do: develop an atmosphere of trust and cooperation. Since even before the Yom Kippur War, Basri’s remarkable program, “Doctor Behind the Microphone,” has put Libyans, Iraqis, Syrians and Saudis in direct contact with Israelis. In the days when a visit from King Hussein was unimaginable, long before even Sadat set foot on the Zionist entity, Arabs came, quietly, fearlessly, gratefully -- and it was Basri who brought them here.
    They came in search of miracles, medical miracles their own societies cannot provide.
    Basri’s daily Arabic broadcasts, which are picked up in the Arab and Moslem world, are devoted to spreading the propaganda of health - no politics, no Zionist messages, not even a mention of peace and brotherliness. “They see how good Israel is,” she says. “I don’t have to say it.”
    With her disarming motherly style, she infiltrates “enemy territory.” 
They tune in to hear about medical advances and breakthroughs; to listen to Israeli doctors chatting (live) with callers about health problems or responding to written pleas from Baghdad, Gaza, Riyadh; and when she signs off, they sit down and write letters and faxes. The letters pour in at a rate of 300 a week, either mailed direct to Jerusalem or via a post office in Geneva.
    She used to facilitate personal visits to Israeli hospitals, even for residents of the most antagonistic countries, but no longer. “By now they can arrange their own travel to Israel, or call doctors here direct.”
She does not, of course, receive tributes or recognition from Arab officialdom, except for the most backhanded form of flattery: alarmed that an Israel Radio program was giving the “wrong” impression of the Jewish State, about eight years ago a Khartoum conference of pan-Arab health ministers resolved to combat the Basri phenomenon by encouraging domestic broadcasts. A cable TV station in Saudi Arabia has been doing just that for the last couple of years, beaming a Basri-style program to the Arab world. “That makes me happy,” she says. “Why not? It helps people. That’s what it’s all about.”

IT IS IRONIC that Basri’s influence began in the Arab world, and has expanded from there worldwide: she began to get requests for medical advice from India, Indonesia, Argentina, even from such medically advanced countries as Canada and the US.
She turns to Hadassah Hospital for help with most of the queries, and to arrange consultations and treatments. Basri stresses that her referrals pay the hospital just as any tourist would. The hospital, like Basri’s broadcasts, subscribes firmly to the maxim that medicine and politics don’t mix.
Hadassah enjoys a near-mythical reputation throughout the Middle East, which certainly props Basri’s credibility. “When I was a little girl, growing up in Iraq, I used to hear rich Moslems, my neighbors, tell about coming to Hadassah Hospital.”
   Her most common cases are eye and skin problems -- not always routine stuff. Some patients arrive blind and before going home, enjoy a little sightseeing. Skin conditions can be so severe as to be crippling or fatal. One three-year-old Libyan boy was brought here on his father’s back because the skin on the child’s feet could not even tolerate shoes and socks. A Jerusalem doctor concocted a cream for him, and kept them supplied with regular shipments. Three years later, the lad, cured and walking normally, returned with his family to say thanks.
    In another unusual case, a Syrian mother contacted Basri in 1979, asking that she save her baby boy. She had already buried nine young children who had the same rare skin disorder. Basri got a rescue mission going. “We told her to come. But apparently the Syrians wouldn’t let them.” Basri never heard from them again.
    Thalassemia -- a serious form of anemia -- is another recurring subject on her show. The inherited illness is particularly prevalent because of the unfortunate Arab tradition of inbreeding.
    “One time, about 20 years ago, I did a program about thalassemia. Afterwards, I got a call from a Western ambassador in Tel Aviv, asking for a tape of the program. Two weeks later, a boy suffering from thalassemia appeared for treatment at Hadassah. The boy was the son of an Arab ruler.”
   Her most satisfying success was a particularly complicated case -- medically and politically. “The patient said it was impossible for him to come here. I consulted with a doctor from Bikur Holim Hospital, and he consented to meet the patient in Europe. I went along with him, and we stayed for 10 days until the patient was cured.”
    When Basri’s show was about to end, her dismayed listeners responded with a groundswell of support. Dozens of letters arrived, begging her to continue. And she will, with two-hour weekly broadcasts replacing her shorter daily shows.
    The peace process may be failing in the palaces and parliaments, but Basri is keeping it going in the living rooms of the Arab world.

UPDATE: “Your column,” wrote the Jerusalem Rotary Club, “brought Ilana Basri to our attention, and this year we are going to give her the Vocational Excellence Award.”
Her radio program is still on the air.