My friend Belinda Allan, who has died aged 77, lived a life of passionate commitment to justice and, in particular, refugees. This took her through work against the Greek colonels' government, the early days of Amnesty International, the successful launching of refugee studies as an Oxford University discipline to years of active support for Palestinians in Gaza, the West Bank and the grim camps in Lebanon.
Born Belinda Keown in Hampstead, north London, she grew up in a happy, close family in a farmhouse in Surrey. She won a scholarship to Benenden school in Kent, but her parents never encouraged her to think of university. However she made her own university from a life lived on different continents.
As a young woman with a toehold of a job at the publisher Chatto and Windus, she became friends with the widowed Leonard Woolf, whose Hogarth Press had been entrusted to Chatto. She used to visit him for lunches in Sussex, giving the old man a great deal of focused attention of the kind that later many desperate refugees would count on as she befriended them.
In the 1970s, she worked with Peter Calvocoressi and the poet and Jesuit priest Peter Levi for the families of Greek political detainees jailed by the colonels, first in Greece, where her lifelong love of the country began when she was in the British Council there, then from New York, where she had a job with the New York Review of Books.
With her husband Donald Allan, whom she married in 1972 and who worked for Unicef, Belinda lived in Beirut and Geneva, and then Nairobi in the late 1970s. It was after their divorce, settling in Oxford in the early 1980s, with her adored daughter, Diana, that Belinda taught herself to be a professional fundraiser. She became the public face of the Refugee Studies Centre, later incorporated into Queen Elizabeth House, part of Oxford University and foundation stone of today's world of refugee studies.
Her focus soon settled on Palestinian issues and the Gaza Community Mental Health Project, where she became a valued support to the staff faced with appalling challenges as conditions deteriorated in Gaza.
But all this work was done so modestly that her gift for friendship is what so many people will remember about her. The fountain in her garden in Oxford where each tile was painted by a different friend and the mural in her cottage in the hills above Cortona, Tuscany, painted by decades of visitors, exemplify a life whose keynotes were humanity, hospitality and generosity.
She is survived by Diana and two granddaughters.