Murder in the Name of Honor by Rana Husseini Page B

struggle to change the law, a struggle that began with Rana Husseini who had the courage to expose the truth …
    Therefore, we have decided to march to Parliament to protest against honour killings. Please join us, each and every one of you, so that we may make democracy in our country a reality and voice our opinion towards a better Jordan. 6
    To me, this email was the greatest thing that could have happened. I couldn’t believe it – the Prince was going to march with us, in a march he had initiated! Perhaps not surprisingly, we hadpreviously been refused permission to organize any kind of march, and although we hadn’t given up, we did wonder if it was ever going to happen. Now, with the support of the Prince, who was able to obtain the necessary official clearance, we knew it was most definitely going to happen. It was just the most incredible feeling.
    Many others praised the Prince for his move and pledged to be there with their families and friends. My friend and gender and development expert Randa Naffa, who was one of the first to respond to the Prince, spoke for most of us when she wrote: ‘Thank you … your presence will be a valuable support to all the believers of a better life for women in Jordan … Any democracy cannot be fully consolidated unless just and fair laws exist for the right of all!’
    Our committee members were divided on the issue. Some feared that the Prince’s participation might cause a backlash. Others were excited that a public march was finally going to take place – especially as we had already lodged a request in November 1999 to organize a silent ‘funeral procession’ from the Christian and Muslim cemeteries in East Amman to Parliament.
    Many of the victims of so-called honour crimes had been buried in unmarked graves, without normal tradition. We wanted to give them a proper funeral while presenting a painful reminder to the Lower House that their inaction meant these murders would continue.
    The committee buzzed like a beehive as we tried to persuade as many people as possible to join us. Our press release said:
    We call on each one of you to come and join us to express our voice – to make it clear that all Jordanians are against so-called honour crimes and the cold-blooded murder of women and girls. To insist that each one of us has individual rights and that everyone has the right to a fair trial and is entitled to a legal defence. We are counting on your support to prove to the Lower House that they are turning a blind eye to what Jordanians want.
    This time, thanks to our royal backers, we won the support of the Mayor of Amman, who even arranged the printing of banners. However, the government remained resolutely against us and forbade Jordan’s local TV from advertising the event.
    Prince Ali had chosen 14 February. I remember that damp and cloudy morning very clearly. I walked with my friends to the starting point at Sports City. As we arrived, I gasped in astonishment. Thousands of people had already gathered in the huge courtyard behind the football stadium. Dozens of buses were standing by to transport us to Parliament.
    It was a huge crowd, the largest I had ever seen in Jordan. Many people were dressed in their traditional tribal robes. Among them were women’s rights activists, high school girls, lawyers and civil servants. My heart sang when I saw cameras and journalists absolutely everywhere, from all over the world, and that they were already busy filming and interviewing.
    People were carrying black flags to commemorate the murdered women; there were countless banners which read ‘Say No to Honour Crimes’ and anti-Article 340 slogans were everywhere. It was an overwhelming sight. We had gone from nothing to this truly extraordinary event in Jordan’s capital in just a few months. I really believed then that we would win our battle.
    I searched the crowds looking for Prince Ali. I finally found the