Alumni in action: A letter from the Middle East

A Letter From the Middle East

BY HANSON R. HOSEIN, LLB'92, BCL'93

	Hosein in front of an Israeli tank PHOTO COURTESY Hanson Hosein

Conversation and laughter are second nature to a tightly knit television news team. But as we drove the winding road up through the West Bank on an October day, not one word was shared among my friends and me. We were heading for Ramallah, where Israeli soldiers had been brutally killed by a furious Palestinian mob. Israeli choppers had already rocketed the police station where the soldiers had been held. We were nervous, apprehensive and sad.

Especially sad. We had all lived for years in the Middle East. We have Palestinian friends and Israeli friends. We have been to all the places where these horrific, violent acts are being committed -- during better days, when we could share a coffee -- and wonder why we all couldn't just get along the way we were.

Our flak jackets were in the back of the jeep; someone ominously asked whether anyone had a first aid kit, which, amazingly, I had remembered to bring along. Since my posting to the Middle East three years ago, it was the first time that I'd had to equip myself with such gear. The civility of calm of my former life in Canada seemed a world away. Perhaps I should have stuck to my legal training and remained a lawyer, I thought to myself -- most attorneys don't have to wear bulletproof vests at work.

At the Lebanese border with his NBC News crew PHOTO COURTESY Hanson Hosein

We drove up to an Israeli army checkpoint. They were turning cars with Palestinian drivers back to where they came from. Behind us, sandbag fortifications secured an abandoned house. I looked up; two Israeli snipers aimed their guns down at where we were, ready for the first sign of an altercation. I hoped that if anything happened, we wouldn't get caught in the middle.

The Israelis let us film them without asking any questions. Then one soldier approached us.

We thought he was going to stop us from working. Instead, he had seen our NBC logo, and just wanted to say that he had once lived in New York City, and enjoyed watching WNBC 4, the local station there.

We drove on into the Palestinian town of Ramallah. This place has become famous for its incredible energy and dazzling night life. But as late afternoon hit, the streets had fallen silent, houses and shops boarded up.

	PHOTO: Peter Turnley / CORBIS

Fires blazed from full garbage cans. The few Palestinians who were on the street ignored our yellow Israeli license plates when they looked closer at our faces, and then noticed the "TV" letters that we had taped to every side of our vehicle. When we asked for directions, they happily gave them to us, in good English. Despite the terrible situation, they were incredibly hospitable.

Our destination was a television feedpoint to meet up with some of our colleagues. It was on the roof of a five-storey building. As we looked out over the Ramallah cityscape, two Israeli helicopter gunships approached the centre of town, and fired missiles at some predetermined target.

The sinister whine of the rockets being launched was far more frightening than the explosion from the impact. I stood there in utter disbelief, wondering how it had gotten so bad. Two sides that had been discussing peace and co-existence were now wholeheartedly attacking each other.

We decided that it wouldn't be prudent to be caught in the West Bank after nightfall, and ended up returning to our office as a dramatic Middle Eastern sunset was ending. The sky reflected an angry red, then quickly gave way to darkness and a full moon. A heavy gloom descended upon us all.

Hanson Hosein finished his Middle East tour of duty as a correspondent and producer for NBC News in November and recently received an Emmy Award for his work. He is currently at work on a book about his life and adventures while living in Israel.