Eva Dadrian remembers Rachel Corrie Rachel Corrie was killed in Rafah, Gaza, trying to stop the demolition of the home of a Palestinian pharmacist on 16 March, 2003 -- crushed to death by a bulldozer. Events have marked the third anniversary of her death around the world, with the most poignant among them being a reading of her writings at Westlake Plaza in Seattle, Washington State, a few kilometres away from her home town of Olympia. The reading was an occasion to reconfirm discontent with the New York Theatre Workshop's decision to cancel My Name is Rachel Corrie, a British production scheduled to have its US premiere in April -- a move that has since been widely denigrated. According to producer David Johnson, the production had gathered a full house twice at the Royal Court Theatre in 2005; it is now running with equal success at the Playhouse, also in London. Reassuringly, perhaps, the cancellation of the premiere did not go unnoticed within America, with hundreds of US citizens voicing discontent, notably on the Internet. To Maddi Breslin, for example, this was "another rug pulled out from under 'freedom' and 'democracy' in the United States". Writing on 18 March, Breslin underlined the need for Corrie's story to be told and heard everywhere and calls US bias in favour of Israel "one of the most anti- democratic acts of the 20th century, continuing today into the 21st". As always in the US, it is fear of controversy that lies behind the decision. In an interview to Playbill News, James Nicola, artistic director of the New York Theatre Workshop, conceded that his board "were not confident that we had the time to create an environment where the art could be heard independent of the political issues associated with it". The workshop has since announced that it would put on the play next season, but according to one of the British producers, though a New York premiere will take place, it will not be at the Theatre Workshop. The move against the play, according to one online protester, has garnered greater interest in the issue, with numerous US citizens now eager to find out about the Arab-Israeli conflict and the quest for peace, while The Guardian features editor Catherine Viner -- a co-editor of the play, twice named Newspaper Magazine Editor of the Year -- points out that the production has been fielding funding offers made by the widest range of parties "from Spain to Finland, from Melbourne to Rio". For his part Johnson confirmed that Alan Rickman, the London production director, is headed for the US for negotiations. My Name is Rachel is justifiably branded "disquieting", especially from the viewpoint of the American public. It raises Corrie's central questions, as expressed in her e-mails and journals, which the late Edward Said described as "truly remarkable documents of her ordinary humanity that make for a very difficult and moving reading" in May 2003: "I've had this underlying need to go to a place and meet people who are on the other end of the portion of my tax money that goes to fund the US and other militaries." This is a crucial point. As Viner points out, it is less Corrie's death than her politics that causes fear; the uproar to which it gives way reflects concern with the fact that, under the so-called new world order, "works of art cannot be presented without the fear of political backlash". And the play is based partly on the diaries, which, dating back to when Corrie was only 12, offer an insight into the young woman's frustrations with injustice. More topical and finely wrought and Corrie's e-mails to her mother from Gaza which, written during the two-month period she spent as a "human shield", are as poignant and powerful a record of Palestinian resistance and the Israeli occupation forces' brutality as can be imagined. Corrie might occasionally sound like "a pathetic naïve girl", as blogger Dr Evil puts it, but, taken together, her e-mails display lucidity and moral rigour. On the other hand the play is a masterful composition, directed and acted with equal ability. Catherine Viner and Alan Rickman's 90 minutes bring Corrie's sense of humour together with her dreams of a better world, condensing into a single, effective work of art, a contemporary instance of dispassionate political engagement. Even as a 10-year-old, Corrie was politicised, hoping to "stop hunger" by 2000. Rickman manages to present a fully fledged political message in human form, but at the same time he uncovers an all- too-human young woman in a full spectrum of feelings and thoughts. Stunningly performed by Megan Dodds, whose physical resemblance to Corrie is striking, this relatively long monodrama manages to maintain the attention of the audience throughout its duration. Beginning in Corrie's room -- a typical college girl's dwelling -- it moves through Jerusalem to the modest Internet café she used in Rafah -- not only for e- mailing but for shelter. Discovered post- humously, Corrie's writings are no mean feat, but one cannot help wondering what she might have achieved had she lived a little longer, given the level of intelligence and purpose they show.
