Welcome to my new blog Cracked Spines.
I have launched this blog as an offshoot from my other blog Mark McLaughlin Online, which I started about this time last year basically as a press cuttings file but started posting up the odd book review to relieve the monotony of writing about Edinburgh all the time.
After a year, I've built up a decent body of work and I've started to get attention from a few authors, so I figured it was time to let it stand alone. I've uploaded all of the old reviews and will update it every few weeks, or however long it takes me to finish my latest book.
In my day job, I have access to an endless supply of new hardbacks, first editions and yet to be released review copies so most of the reviews on this blog will be up-to-the-minute reading that hasn't been widely reviewed elsewhere.
There's no greater affront to wisdom than a book with an uncracked spine.
Enjoy
Mark
Sunday, 29 August 2010
Ambrosio, Before We Say Goodbye
Gabriella Ambrosio
Before We Say Goodbye
2010
THE teenage book market is replete with books about monsters – particularly Stephenie Mayer’s hugely successful Twilight saga – and thanks to Amnesty International the shelves now have a new addition.
Gabriella Ambrosio’s Before We Say Goodbye, a semi-fictional account of a day in the life of a teenage female suicide bomber from Palestine and her Israeli victim, received a special endorsement by the human rights group at this month’s Edinburgh International Book Festival for its contribution to the understanding of the conflict. Like Twilight there are no shortage of monsters on both sides, and like the vampires of the saga these monsters are struggling to maintain their humanity against hateful, vengeful urges and an insatiable thirst for blood.
Before We Say Goodbye is based on the factual tale of Ayat al-Akhras, 19, who became Palestine’s youngest female suicide bomber when she killed herself and two Israelis including one Rachel Levy, 17, in a Jerusalem supermarket in 2002. The physical similarities between the two girls led the authorities to speculate initially that there had been two Palestinian suicide bombers, and that Levy was al-Akhras’s accomplice and perhaps even her sister.
The case starkly demonstrated the similarities between the communities on both sides, and in this book Ambrosio imagines the personal circumstances that brought these two girls together through the lives of two proxies, the Palestinian Dima and the Israeli Myriam, both 18.
Before We Say Goodbye
2010
THE teenage book market is replete with books about monsters – particularly Stephenie Mayer’s hugely successful Twilight saga – and thanks to Amnesty International the shelves now have a new addition.
Gabriella Ambrosio’s Before We Say Goodbye, a semi-fictional account of a day in the life of a teenage female suicide bomber from Palestine and her Israeli victim, received a special endorsement by the human rights group at this month’s Edinburgh International Book Festival for its contribution to the understanding of the conflict. Like Twilight there are no shortage of monsters on both sides, and like the vampires of the saga these monsters are struggling to maintain their humanity against hateful, vengeful urges and an insatiable thirst for blood.Before We Say Goodbye is based on the factual tale of Ayat al-Akhras, 19, who became Palestine’s youngest female suicide bomber when she killed herself and two Israelis including one Rachel Levy, 17, in a Jerusalem supermarket in 2002. The physical similarities between the two girls led the authorities to speculate initially that there had been two Palestinian suicide bombers, and that Levy was al-Akhras’s accomplice and perhaps even her sister.
The case starkly demonstrated the similarities between the communities on both sides, and in this book Ambrosio imagines the personal circumstances that brought these two girls together through the lives of two proxies, the Palestinian Dima and the Israeli Myriam, both 18.
Ayat al-Akhras and Rachel Levy on the cover of Newsweek
As the book is aimed at the teenage market, I have handed over my blog for this review to two Edinburgh teenagers, Andrew MacLean and Frances Singer, recent James Gillespie’s High School graduates who Amnesty pulled together for a chat with the author Gabriella Ambrosio at the book launch last week. I was struck by their different interpretations of the book, and conflicting sympathies, but as we shall see Ambrosio herself was not surprised.
“I seemed more sympathetic towards Myriam,” said Andrew, from Bruntsfield, who is going on to study biological sciences at Oxford next month. “Dima seemed a little naive, talking about how killing herself and others would make right all of the wrongs that that her family had suffered. There’s a line in the book about her actions taking all of the injustices away and making the Israelis pay, but I think this book showed that her actions were just part of a never ending process. By the end of it the Israelis were shouting, ‘death to the Arabs’, while the Palestinians celebrated.”
‘Dima had to blow herself up in the middle of a crowd. She had to blow up a crowd.
‘She wouldn’t be doing it if she weren’t sure she would kill lots of them. She would postpone it. Her life was not worth a few lives; it was worth a great many Jewish lives – at least a hundred. She would blow herself up and take a hundred people with her. A hundred Jewish families would have to suffer what they as Palestinians were suffering. And finally the camp would celebrate. The return of honour. Of a little justice.’ (Before We Say Goodbye, p.115)
Frances, from Newington, who is going travelling for a year before taking on a chemistry degree at York, had a slightly different take.
“I identified slightly more with Dima,” she said. “You can really feel her anger at the situation, whereas Myriam seemed quite empty. Myriam was upset about the death of her friend but it never seemed to sink in, whereas Dima’s response was more emotional. I don’t think I would do what Dima did [suicide bombing] but I can see why she did it. She felt there was nothing for her, and she was going to be stuck in the same situation unless she did something about it, but if she had just carried on she could have made much more of a difference. She wanted to be a journalist and she could have made much more of a difference doing that rather than blowing herself up.”
Two other characters stand out from the book who are worth noting. Myriam’s brother Nathan, 19, is doing his military service at the Erez checkpoint and is probably the closest thing to Mayer’s teenage vampires, a human child, a pacifist, unwillingly conscripted by older monsters who begins by being horrified by the brutality on both sides but ends up resigned to it.
' “You have to check everyone who crosses over [the checkpoint],” Nathan said flatly. “People are made to partly strip off, and their shoes and bags are passed through the metal detector. Often they have blades hidden in their soles...the first thing that came to mind was a scene from the Holocaust.
“I felt like I had got everything wrong...and then that awful thing happened...everyone saw Ariel’s head fly inside the blockhouse...
“They do this to us. Someone thinks it up and sends them to do this to us. The truth is, as far as their concerned we shouldn’t exist!"' (Before We Say Goodbye, pp72-73)
Then there is Ghassan, the Palestinian puppet-master, the man who “thinks it up” and sends “them” – ordinary Palestinians like Ayat al-Akhras and her fictional proxy Dima – to kill Israelis. Ghassan is the personification of every Hamas/Fatah/Hezbolla/Iranian/Al-Qaida hardliner who believes death and destruction is the only solution to the Israeli occupation but sends others to do their dirty work.
‘Peace. That is what Ghassan felt after every explosion. Peace at last. The blast, the trembling air, the pieces shooting away in all directions...
‘What must it be like, living as if you were always stuffed with explosives? What else could you want if not to get rid of them every so often? This is how it was for Ghassan, who sought every explosion the way another might seek an orgasm.’ (Before We Say Goodbye, pp76-77)
I had originally believed Ghassan to be not only the personification of Arab monsters but a dual personification of the monsters from both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with his one brown eye representing the Arabs and his one blue eye a metaphor for the occupying European Jew stereotype, but according to Ambrosio his heterochromia is descriptive rather than metaphorical. Andrew’s and Frances’s insights, it seems, were more on the button than my own:
“His different coloured eyes are a result of the shrapnel in his head from one his grenades that exploded too close - nothing more,” said Ambrosio. “I am not surprised that Andrew and Frances came to different conclusions about the characters because when I read a book I identify with the people, not the politics. It’s the humans you identify with as they are your guides in this other world, and often the only way that you can understand how you would feel in this world is to understand how the characters feel."
Cowley, The Last Game
Jason Cowley
The Last Game
2009
The Last Game, ostensibly an extended essay about the Liverpool v Arsenal title decider in 1989, is about much more than football. It is part biography, part social commentary, part fanzine and a wholly passionate read. It’s about Cowley’s relationship with football, with his father, with journalism and with the world around him, often all four at once. The prologue provides an interesting insight into his psychology:
“I accepted the false dichotomy between the so called highbrow and lowbrow and had concluded that you couldn’t be both a book man and sports man – that the two cultures were separate, with no connecting bridge between them.”
As a bookish journalist living in Edinburgh, 60 miles from my derelict hometown of Linwood where ignorance is practically a virtue, and 60 miles from my football team St Mirren which I still visit most weeks largely to catch up with my brother and boyhood friends, I know all about this dichotomy and can identify with the polar forces pulling him apart.
But Cowley and I both know that this dichotomy is, indeed, false (many people still recoil in shock when I inform them novelist Christopher Brookmyre is also a St Mirren fan). Cowley approaches his sport like the giants of American literature approached their sports. He marries his bookish head with his sporting heart and does for football what Norman Mailer did for boxing, Ernest Hemingway did for bullfighting, and Hunter S Thomson did for desert racing - he chronicles the attitudes, troubles and prejudices of the day through the prism of a single sporting event.
He even measures his own theories on that other momentous sporting event of 1989, the Hillsborough disaster, not against those of contemporary British writers such as the divisive Kelvin MacKenzie but against another giant of modern American literature Don Dellilo, who described the fans’ suffering like a great religious painting, “a crowded twisted vision of a rush to death as only a master of the age could paint it”.
And he writes about Arsenal v Liverpool the way Mailer wrote about Ali v Foreman, as a titanic battle between gladiators rather than a lowbrow working class sport. He elevates Arsenal manager George Graham, a tough Scot born eight miles in the opposite direction of Glasgow as myself, to the status of an ageing warrior-poet:
“[As a player] Graham was a languid presence in midfield. He passed and moved so gracefully that he was known variously as the Stroller, the Ringmaster and The Peacock. ‘I had a quick brain but a slow body,’ he has said. ‘I needed time, which is not available in the English game today.’...
“[As a manager] Graham did not like strollers or peacocks: the footballer as the egoist or exhibitionist. He preferred grafters...Graham demanded toil and labour from his players and coaching staff.”
Even when he moves away from the football field to review the social change of the 80s he does so from the terraces, chronicling the changing attitudes to race through the eyes of John Barnes dodging bananas, likens a rave during 1988’s second summer of love to “an especially intense football match”, and conflates his Last Game thesis – that the ’89 title decider marked the transition between old and new football – with the other great social upheavals of the late 80s such as the decline of communism and Fukuyama’s theories on “the end of history”.
Running through it all is his own struggle to maintain his relationship with football and with his ailing father, his efforts to kindle his relationships with his wife and with journalism and the journey he took towards becoming the current editor of New Statesman and, as author of The Last Game, the thinking fans wordsmith.
The Last Game
2009
The Last Game, ostensibly an extended essay about the Liverpool v Arsenal title decider in 1989, is about much more than football. It is part biography, part social commentary, part fanzine and a wholly passionate read. It’s about Cowley’s relationship with football, with his father, with journalism and with the world around him, often all four at once. The prologue provides an interesting insight into his psychology:
“I accepted the false dichotomy between the so called highbrow and lowbrow and had concluded that you couldn’t be both a book man and sports man – that the two cultures were separate, with no connecting bridge between them.”
As a bookish journalist living in Edinburgh, 60 miles from my derelict hometown of Linwood where ignorance is practically a virtue, and 60 miles from my football team St Mirren which I still visit most weeks largely to catch up with my brother and boyhood friends, I know all about this dichotomy and can identify with the polar forces pulling him apart.But Cowley and I both know that this dichotomy is, indeed, false (many people still recoil in shock when I inform them novelist Christopher Brookmyre is also a St Mirren fan). Cowley approaches his sport like the giants of American literature approached their sports. He marries his bookish head with his sporting heart and does for football what Norman Mailer did for boxing, Ernest Hemingway did for bullfighting, and Hunter S Thomson did for desert racing - he chronicles the attitudes, troubles and prejudices of the day through the prism of a single sporting event.
He even measures his own theories on that other momentous sporting event of 1989, the Hillsborough disaster, not against those of contemporary British writers such as the divisive Kelvin MacKenzie but against another giant of modern American literature Don Dellilo, who described the fans’ suffering like a great religious painting, “a crowded twisted vision of a rush to death as only a master of the age could paint it”.
And he writes about Arsenal v Liverpool the way Mailer wrote about Ali v Foreman, as a titanic battle between gladiators rather than a lowbrow working class sport. He elevates Arsenal manager George Graham, a tough Scot born eight miles in the opposite direction of Glasgow as myself, to the status of an ageing warrior-poet:
“[As a player] Graham was a languid presence in midfield. He passed and moved so gracefully that he was known variously as the Stroller, the Ringmaster and The Peacock. ‘I had a quick brain but a slow body,’ he has said. ‘I needed time, which is not available in the English game today.’...
“[As a manager] Graham did not like strollers or peacocks: the footballer as the egoist or exhibitionist. He preferred grafters...Graham demanded toil and labour from his players and coaching staff.”
Even when he moves away from the football field to review the social change of the 80s he does so from the terraces, chronicling the changing attitudes to race through the eyes of John Barnes dodging bananas, likens a rave during 1988’s second summer of love to “an especially intense football match”, and conflates his Last Game thesis – that the ’89 title decider marked the transition between old and new football – with the other great social upheavals of the late 80s such as the decline of communism and Fukuyama’s theories on “the end of history”.
Running through it all is his own struggle to maintain his relationship with football and with his ailing father, his efforts to kindle his relationships with his wife and with journalism and the journey he took towards becoming the current editor of New Statesman and, as author of The Last Game, the thinking fans wordsmith.
Lock & Irving, Gaza: Beneath The Bombs
Sharyn Lock with Sarah IrvingGaza: Beneath The Bombs
2010
“Israelis don’t oppress Palestinians,” activist turned author Sarah Irving told a packed crowd at the opening show in Amnesty International’s Imprisoned Writers Series on the first day of the Edinburgh International Book Festival this afternoon.
Irving and her co-author Sharyn Lock are here to promote their new book Gaza: Beneath The Bombs, and their statement – while apparently jarring coming from one half of a team of committed pro-Palestinian activists – sums up the humanitarian message of the book.
“Israelis don’t oppress Palestinians...the Israeli government oppresses Palestinians,” Lock elaborated. “While a lot of racism undoubtedly exists if you speak to Palestinian taxi drivers in the West Bank many of them will tell you that some of their best friends are Israelis.
“However, such relationships are becoming more difficult because it’s hard for an Israeli to travel to the West Bank. Ariel Sharon actually made it illegal for some Israelis to travel into the West Bank, and it was a deliberate effort to cut these ties and foster separation and resentment.
“The vast majority on both sides are just people trying to get on with their lives, but one side is systematically having everything they hold dear stripped away from them.”
Both Irving and Lock have been visiting Palestine for the best part of the last decade, and their eyewitness accounts confirm many of the horror stories that continually flow out of the embattled Gaza strip and West Bank.
“I actually worry more about the West Bank than I do about Gaza,” adds Irving. “Despite the bombing going on in Gaza the extent of the institutionalisation and acceptance of Israel’s ongoing programme of settlement building concerns me.
It’s like it’s become a part of life, but I’m continually shocked by how large these settlements have become even in the last nine years that I’ve been visiting.”
Irving’s persistent activism has taken an awful toll on her health. Hobbling in on crutches she explains that her legs are slowly deteriorating from an injury she sustained after being thrown to the ground by an Israeli soldier.
Irving and Lock told the crowd of their experiences crouching in parsley fields dodging bullets, and getting drenched by Israeli water cannons firing on Gazan fishing boats. The boats fire putrid water which, the authors claim, is laced with some form of poison which makes the fishermen sick and contaminates the fish destined for an area where food is scarce.
Lock emotively related her experience to the comforts of home. “I often forget that the planes flying overhead are actually death machines, and sometime catch myself imagining that they’re actually passenger planes full of eager holidaymakers like the planes back home.
“I sometimes mistake Israeli tanks for roadworks. The noise is very similar and I suppose in a sense they are road works – they’re unmaking the roads.”
While much was said about the Israeli government’s oppression of the Palestinians, little was said about the counterpart governments in Gaza and the West Bank that arguably play their own part in oppressing the Palestinians by stoking Israeli anger – the Islamic fundamentalist Hamas and corrupt secularists Fatah.
Speaking after the event, Sharyn Lock explained why Hamas has yet to show its true colours – for good or for ill – in Gaza because the area has been under constant blockade and frequent bombardment since Hamas took power in free Palestinian elections in 2007.
“No one can really decide how well Hamas are doing because they’ve got nothing to judge it against. Any progress Hamas makes is immediately bombed out of existence by Israeli planes.
“What many people forget is that there is no such thing as a welfare state in Palestine, no health care or child support, and for a long time Hamas was the welfare state. They organised help for the communities suffering under the occupation.
“And while there are stories about Hamas forcing women to wear the veil it’s not something I’ve seen myself. Some women do wear the veil but no more than in previous years, and nobody seems to make a big deal about feeling oppressed under Hamas because they’re all so focussed on the infinitely larger oppression their suffering at the hands of Israel.
“It’s got to be remembered that 50 per cent of Palestinians are under 18, so you’ve got a community full of children who don’t engage in politics and don’t have any idea about elections. Those that did vote for Hamas had watched as the Fatah controlled Palestinian Authority failed to secure any gains for the Palestinians.
“Faced with no other option they thought – like many British people in the last election – ‘These guys aren’t working for me; let’s see what the other guys have got to offer.”
Milton Edwards & Farrell, Hamas
Beverley Milton-Edwards & Stephen Farrell
Hamas
2010
AS an RAF Spitfire screamed overhead at the annual air-show in my ancestral home of Sunderland last weekend, my mother remarked how frightening it must have been for my Nana growing up in this heavily-bombed shipbuilding town in World War II to hear that foreboding sound in the knowledge that death could shortly follow in its wake.
But as the Spitfire receded over the horizon it was followed by an even more bloodcurdling noise. Children covered their ears and adults looked to the skies as a Dutch F16 launched into a barrel-roll, the buzz of its engines growing to a deafening roar as it blasted the seafront with its fearsome afterburner. This sound must be a thousand times more frightening to the embattled people of Gaza, regularly bombed by Israeli F16s, largely, in latter years, as a result of their political support for Hamas.
"Hamas stunned the world when it won one of the only free elections in the Arab world,” writes James Hider, author of The Spiders of Allah and Middle East Bureau Chief of The Times, in his endorsement of Beverley Milton-Edwards’ and James Farrell’s eponymous study of the radical Islamist resistance group that has ruled Gaza with an iron-fist since its election in 2006. The stellar-list of endorsements that accompany this book is reason enough to make it compelling reading, from Hider, to former BBC Middle East correspondent Orla Guerin, to Guardian Middle East correspondent Rory McCarthy, plus a host of respected authors and academics, but the fact that Belfast Queen’s University politics professor Dr Milton-Edwards was able to recruit Farrell, the twice kidnapped former Times and now New York Times correspondent, as co-writer lifts it from what could have been a weighty and worthy academic tome to an indispensible and often gripping account of Hamas’s inception and rise to power.
Hamas’s origins can roughly be summarised as inspired by the founding of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt in 1928, infused with the spirit of 1930s anti-colonial fighter Izz ad-Din al-Qassam, stirred up by the foundation of Israel in 1948 and the six-day war of 1967, propelled by the foundation of Sheik Ahmed Yassin’s Mujamma following the Yom Kippur war of 1973 and finally ignited by the first intifada in 1987. The authors chronicle how Hamas’s brand of deadly resistance to Israel came into its own during the second intifada:
“The first intifada was the stone throwing intifada. Now who believes in stones.” (Hamas MP Jamila al-Shanti)
Hamas rise to power was essentially a reaction to years of ineffectual resistance to Israeli expansionism and oppression of the Palestinians, who watched as the secular politics of Nasser and Fatah failed to contain Israel within its 1948 borders and proved ineffectual in making their anti-Zionist protests heard.
“We tried the fiasco of liberalism in 1948 and we lost half of Palestine. We tried socialist communism in 1967 and we lost the rest of Palestine. We need to be more doctrinaire if Israel is to be overthrown. We need an Islamic state founded on the principles of the Koran.” (Unnamed Islamist student activist)
The authors piece together Hamas’s complex web of supporters and financiers. Following its election in 2006 the movement benefitted greatly from the resources it inherited (or commandeered) from its Western-approved predecessors Fatah and, after international sanctions and the Israeli blockade cut off Gaza’s lifeline, it took a leaf from Hezbolla’s book and looked East for its support, overcoming its sectarian opposition to Iran’s Shi’a theocracy to rely on its support and drawing further assistance from the Arab states.
The authors go to great lengths to distance Hamas from the mindless terrorists that many western leaders often portray them to be. Hamas’s founding fathers are here revealed to be articulate and often reasonable in their justification for their attacks on what they regard as invaders. Even the abhorrent act of suicide bombing, painstakingly deconstructed in this book by psychologists, politicians and families of “martyrs” interviewed by the authors, contains a touch of reason when deployed against an enemy that is vastly superior in weaponry, finance and international political backing:
“Believe me if we had F16s we would never use suicide attacks.” (Senior Hamas leader Dr Abdel Aziz Rantissi)
However, the inherent brutality of the movement frequently seeps through and can be seen writ-large in the days after it took control of Gaza and began to remodel it as an austere Islamic entity in the mould of Iran and, at times, approaching the brutality of the Afghan Taliban. Women were relegated to the status of incubators for future resistance fighters and forced to cover up under threat of an acid wash (in a region where short-skirts were not an uncommon sight during the swinging 60s). Men were encouraged to grow their beards and forced to subscribe to the Hamas doctrine wholesale or risk being shot. And yet the Palestinian people continue to support them because they appear to be the only effective resistance to the Israelis who have had them under the cosh for over 60 years, and certainly the only force that has been able to inflict any serious damage.
Parallels are occasionally drawn with the French resistance during WWII or the Provisional IRA, particularly in Hamas’s recent embrace of the ballot box, but these parallels quickly break down on closer analysis. Unlike Sinn Fein, the authors observe, Hamas went into politics to keep their arms not lay them down and its leaders admit that its policy is to continue to terrorise Israel, whose existence it steadfastly refuses to recognise. Hamas is also standing up to an enemy far more deadly and vindictive than the British. As one Irish observer in Palestine noted in the aftermath of the one tonne bomb that killed Salah Shehadeh, founder of Hamas’s military wing the Izz ad-Din al-Qassam Brigades, in 2002, wiping out 145 civilians in the process:
“If the British wanted to wipe out Gerry Adams would they use a bomb that size in a residential area?”
Ultimately, it is horrors such as this, and the countless other examples listed in this book’s 300 odd pages, that makes it hard to entirely condemn Hamas as nihilistic thugs. Gaza freely chose an Islamic resistance group with a history of violence in one of the fairest and most transparent elections in the region, so it is tempting to say that Gaza deserves everything that it has suffered in their hands. But the lesson of this book is that the people of Gaza felt they had no alternative. The Fatah-led Palestinian Authority failed to halt Israeli settlements, failed to create a Palestinian state, failed to stop the indiscriminate killing of innocent Palestinians and, by all accounts, lined their own pockets at the people’s expense. It failed to prove that secularism was the way to battle an aggressive theocracy so the only alternative was Hamas.
And the final lesson of this book is that, for the foreseeable future at least, Hamas is in Palestine to stay.
Hamas
2010
AS an RAF Spitfire screamed overhead at the annual air-show in my ancestral home of Sunderland last weekend, my mother remarked how frightening it must have been for my Nana growing up in this heavily-bombed shipbuilding town in World War II to hear that foreboding sound in the knowledge that death could shortly follow in its wake.
But as the Spitfire receded over the horizon it was followed by an even more bloodcurdling noise. Children covered their ears and adults looked to the skies as a Dutch F16 launched into a barrel-roll, the buzz of its engines growing to a deafening roar as it blasted the seafront with its fearsome afterburner. This sound must be a thousand times more frightening to the embattled people of Gaza, regularly bombed by Israeli F16s, largely, in latter years, as a result of their political support for Hamas.
"Hamas stunned the world when it won one of the only free elections in the Arab world,” writes James Hider, author of The Spiders of Allah and Middle East Bureau Chief of The Times, in his endorsement of Beverley Milton-Edwards’ and James Farrell’s eponymous study of the radical Islamist resistance group that has ruled Gaza with an iron-fist since its election in 2006. The stellar-list of endorsements that accompany this book is reason enough to make it compelling reading, from Hider, to former BBC Middle East correspondent Orla Guerin, to Guardian Middle East correspondent Rory McCarthy, plus a host of respected authors and academics, but the fact that Belfast Queen’s University politics professor Dr Milton-Edwards was able to recruit Farrell, the twice kidnapped former Times and now New York Times correspondent, as co-writer lifts it from what could have been a weighty and worthy academic tome to an indispensible and often gripping account of Hamas’s inception and rise to power.Hamas’s origins can roughly be summarised as inspired by the founding of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt in 1928, infused with the spirit of 1930s anti-colonial fighter Izz ad-Din al-Qassam, stirred up by the foundation of Israel in 1948 and the six-day war of 1967, propelled by the foundation of Sheik Ahmed Yassin’s Mujamma following the Yom Kippur war of 1973 and finally ignited by the first intifada in 1987. The authors chronicle how Hamas’s brand of deadly resistance to Israel came into its own during the second intifada:
“The first intifada was the stone throwing intifada. Now who believes in stones.” (Hamas MP Jamila al-Shanti)
Hamas rise to power was essentially a reaction to years of ineffectual resistance to Israeli expansionism and oppression of the Palestinians, who watched as the secular politics of Nasser and Fatah failed to contain Israel within its 1948 borders and proved ineffectual in making their anti-Zionist protests heard.
“We tried the fiasco of liberalism in 1948 and we lost half of Palestine. We tried socialist communism in 1967 and we lost the rest of Palestine. We need to be more doctrinaire if Israel is to be overthrown. We need an Islamic state founded on the principles of the Koran.” (Unnamed Islamist student activist)
The authors piece together Hamas’s complex web of supporters and financiers. Following its election in 2006 the movement benefitted greatly from the resources it inherited (or commandeered) from its Western-approved predecessors Fatah and, after international sanctions and the Israeli blockade cut off Gaza’s lifeline, it took a leaf from Hezbolla’s book and looked East for its support, overcoming its sectarian opposition to Iran’s Shi’a theocracy to rely on its support and drawing further assistance from the Arab states.
The authors go to great lengths to distance Hamas from the mindless terrorists that many western leaders often portray them to be. Hamas’s founding fathers are here revealed to be articulate and often reasonable in their justification for their attacks on what they regard as invaders. Even the abhorrent act of suicide bombing, painstakingly deconstructed in this book by psychologists, politicians and families of “martyrs” interviewed by the authors, contains a touch of reason when deployed against an enemy that is vastly superior in weaponry, finance and international political backing:
“Believe me if we had F16s we would never use suicide attacks.” (Senior Hamas leader Dr Abdel Aziz Rantissi)
However, the inherent brutality of the movement frequently seeps through and can be seen writ-large in the days after it took control of Gaza and began to remodel it as an austere Islamic entity in the mould of Iran and, at times, approaching the brutality of the Afghan Taliban. Women were relegated to the status of incubators for future resistance fighters and forced to cover up under threat of an acid wash (in a region where short-skirts were not an uncommon sight during the swinging 60s). Men were encouraged to grow their beards and forced to subscribe to the Hamas doctrine wholesale or risk being shot. And yet the Palestinian people continue to support them because they appear to be the only effective resistance to the Israelis who have had them under the cosh for over 60 years, and certainly the only force that has been able to inflict any serious damage.
Parallels are occasionally drawn with the French resistance during WWII or the Provisional IRA, particularly in Hamas’s recent embrace of the ballot box, but these parallels quickly break down on closer analysis. Unlike Sinn Fein, the authors observe, Hamas went into politics to keep their arms not lay them down and its leaders admit that its policy is to continue to terrorise Israel, whose existence it steadfastly refuses to recognise. Hamas is also standing up to an enemy far more deadly and vindictive than the British. As one Irish observer in Palestine noted in the aftermath of the one tonne bomb that killed Salah Shehadeh, founder of Hamas’s military wing the Izz ad-Din al-Qassam Brigades, in 2002, wiping out 145 civilians in the process:
“If the British wanted to wipe out Gerry Adams would they use a bomb that size in a residential area?”
Ultimately, it is horrors such as this, and the countless other examples listed in this book’s 300 odd pages, that makes it hard to entirely condemn Hamas as nihilistic thugs. Gaza freely chose an Islamic resistance group with a history of violence in one of the fairest and most transparent elections in the region, so it is tempting to say that Gaza deserves everything that it has suffered in their hands. But the lesson of this book is that the people of Gaza felt they had no alternative. The Fatah-led Palestinian Authority failed to halt Israeli settlements, failed to create a Palestinian state, failed to stop the indiscriminate killing of innocent Palestinians and, by all accounts, lined their own pockets at the people’s expense. It failed to prove that secularism was the way to battle an aggressive theocracy so the only alternative was Hamas.
And the final lesson of this book is that, for the foreseeable future at least, Hamas is in Palestine to stay.
Sasson & Bin Laden, Growing Up Bin Laden
Jean Sasson with Najwa & Omar Bin LadenGrowing Up Bin Laden: Osama’s Wife and Son Take Us Inside Their Secret World
2009
The Following review received a neat endorsement from the author herself when it appeared originally on my other blog Mark McLaughlin Online. To read the endorsement click here.
THOSE that maintain fictional novels more entertaining or diverting than non-fiction – particularly “heavy” non-fiction on terrorism, Islam and geopolitics – should read Growing Up Bin Laden.
There are those who would never consider reading a book with Bin Laden’s name on the cover, but think nothing of devouring Khaled Hosseini’s fictional Afghan tales The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns because they saw them on Richard & Judy.
Growing Up Bin Laden seems tailor-made for such reading groups. It looks, feels and reads like a Hosseini novel and confirms that many of his semi-fictional plot devices [coming of age in an Afghan war zone / dodging male-rape gangs / living with an austere and abusive husband and father] to be based in fact.
“There was a sickening incident when [my friend]...was abducted and brutally gang raped. The rapists added insult to injury by snapping photographs of the young man during and after the rape.
“Those damning photographs ended up in the hand of Dr. [Ayman] Zawahiri, the leader of the al-Jihad group [and later founder member of Al-Qaida]. Zawahiri was incensed, believing that the young teenage boy was somehow at fault. There were pictures to prove it! In our world, sex between men is punishable by death...He was arrested by the group leaders, put on trial, and condemned to death.” (Omar Bin Laden)
“My brothers and I all suffered from asthma...but my father was adamant that we should not take modern prescription drugs, no matter how serious our affliction...
“After only a month in Jalalabad, [Osama] announced that we were travelling to Tora Bora [the Bin Ladins’ Afghan mountain home with a name that means ‘Black Dust’].
“I was foolish not to have sneaked my medicine past my father, for my breathing difficulties were becoming worse with each passing day...Once when gasping, I though I caught the scent of grave dirt. I was ready to trade my share of the bin Laden mountain for a single puff from my inhaler.” (Omar)
I read this book looking for some semblance of humanity in Bin Laden, the man who orchestrated the murder of 2,976 people in New York and many more elsewhere under the pretence of protecting his home and allies from foreign influence and spreading his religion with missionary zeal, aims which are not too dissimilar from warmongering fundamentalists in the USA, Israel and other countries that the UK regards as allies rather than terrorists.
However, in Growing Up Bin Laden I failed to find a modern-day Saladin defending Islam from modern day Crusaders, but a sociopath who used his money, family connections, influence and war-hero status to bend people to his own warped worldview.
Najwa Bin Laden, the first of Osama’s five wives [arguably six if you count one “unconsummated” annulment], introduces her cousin Osama as a quiet, surly and serious teenager. Her love for him is palpable throughout the book and she refuses to criticise him directly, but her insights and those of her favourite son Omar, who is less reserved with his criticism, reveal the inner-rage that would turn Osama into a monster.
Critics of Islam should note that in this book Osama’s rage against the world doesn’t appear rooted in his fanatical religious devotion, although this undoubtedly plays a part, but in a complex psychology and dysfunctional family background similar to many other run-of-the-mill sociopaths. Osama comes across as an unappreciated war hero and bitter exile, harbouring resentment of being both an unloved middle-child and product of an abandoned single-mother*. If he grew up in America he would be Rambo [the original “don’t push me or I’ll give you a war” psycho in First Blood rather than the anaemic hero of the sequels], but equally if he grew up in Kilmarnock he’d be skinning up joints in The Scheme before signing up to the army to shoot “rag-heads”
*Osama is 18th son of 22 sons and 23 daughters born to Mohammed Bin Laden, and the only child from Mohammed’s short lived marriage to Allia Ghanem. Following his role in Afghanistan’s expulsion of Russia in the 1980s Osama was welcomed back to Saudi Arabia as a war hero, but soon exiled to Sudan for his objection to the USA’s protection of the kingdom in the first Gulf War, and later back to Afghanistan when he was subsequently kicked out by the Sudanese.
Rose, A Senseless Squalid War
Norman Rose‘A Senseless, Squalid War’ : Voices From Palestine 1945-1948
2009
IT has often been remarked by my friends and colleagues that my bookshelf resembles a reading list from a dire Middle East studies course. Most react with horror when I tell them that I read these books for leisure as much as education. It’s difficult to pinpoint where my fascination with the Middle East began but perhaps, like Robert Fisk, it lies in a need to understand and atone for the sins of the father.
In his opus The Great War For Civilisation: The Conquest Of The Middle East [which I have shamefully yet to finish], Fisk recounts how his father Bill Fisk was duped, along with millions of other young men, into believing that the war he was fighting in 1914-18 was: “The Great War For Civilisation”. Nearly a century later, Robert Fisk is still reporting on “The Clash of Civilisations” between Christianity, Judaism and Islam in the Middle East, an area carved up in the spoils of what Fisk calls “my father’s war”.
My own atonement isn’t for the sins of my father, but for my grandfather Pte Richard McLaughlin, a sentryman in the King’s Own Scottish Borderers who fought in the last days of the British mandate in Palestine. Palestine 1945-1948 was “my grandfather’s war” [although it must be noted that this war was no more my grandfather’s than World War I was Bill Fisk’s. Both were conscripts.]
My grandfather died when I was very young, but when I was old enough to ask the ubiquitous question, “What did grandad do in the war?”, I recall being disappointed to hear that he was too young to fight in World War II but had completed his National Service in a mysterious land called Palestine.
He didn’t talk about it much, according to my father, save for a short, enigmatic, recollection of “dodging stones thrown from both sides of the road – with Arabs on the one side and Jews on the other”.
“Why would anyone fight in a war where neither side wanted you to be there?” I recall my child’s mind struggling to comprehend.
As I write, an adult still working to understand this “Clash of Civilisations” from my own little corner of the world, a diplomatic row is unfolding over Israel’s attack on an aid flotilla attempting to break their blockade on Gaza, an attack which left at least nine dead and dozens more injured. While reporting on fears for the wellbeing of Edinburgh-based Gaza aid worker Theresa McDermott today, I was struck by the parallels between this unfolding drama and the book I had already begun preparing for review on my blog’s ongoing list of personal reading.
For this reason, I have cast aside my usual thrifty editing to record my thoughts more deeply.
Norman Rose’s ‘A Senseless, Squalid War’ is the first book I’ve read that’s come close to clarifying my childish confusion about “my grandfather’s war.
The clearest statement I have yet found which comes close to articulating my childhood quandary can be found in chapter two of Rose’s relatively accessible history, from the first military and later civilian Governor of Jerusalem Ronald Storrs [the man T.E. Lawrence described in Seven Pillars as “the most brilliant Englishman in the Near East”].
“I am not wholly for either, but for both,” said Storrs in 1920. “Two hours of Arab grievances drive me to Synagogue, while after an intensive course of Zionist propaganda I am prepared to embrace Islam.”
Listening to the conflicting reports of today’s attack on the Gaza flotilla I find myself in the same position as Storrs. Today’s protestors were undoubtedly sailing in international waters, attempting to run a blockade which is legally questionable at best, while carrying aid to an area which resembles the Nazi ghettos that Israel’s founders used as moral justification for a Jewish homeland. This moral justification was articulated by sympathetic Chancellor of the Exchequer Hugh Dalton: “There was a strong case for [a Jewish national home] before the war. There is an irresistible case now, after the unspeakable atrocities of [the Nazis].”
After listening to Israel’s defence today that their forces opened fire only after they were “clubbed, beaten and stabbed” [supported by television footage which seems to show supposedly “peaceful” protestors attacking Israel’s boarding party], and state their belief that the flotilla was, at least partly, organised by groups with “ties to Global Jihad, Al-Qaeda and Hamas” [something I have no evidence for but I don’t find entirely implausible that some Jihadi sympathisers were aboard] and I find myself back in the middle.
However, what Storrs was yet to witness was Israel’s disproportionate response to any provocation.
When British authorities carried out arms-raids on Jewish settlements during Operation Agatha in 1946, and the Zionists responded by blowing up British command HQ at the King David Hotel. When Egypt instigated a blockade on Israel in 1967 similar to the blockade that Israel now imposes on Gaza [with, it must be noted, the help of modern-day Egypt’s policing of Rafah], Israel launched a pre-emptive strike which annexed most of the region in six days. When Israel-friendly Lebanese president Bachir Gemayel was assassinated in 1982, the Israeli Defence Force [under orders from defence minister and future president Ariel Sharon] orchestrated a brutal massacre of hundreds of Lebanese and Palestinian civilians. When Lebanese militants again enraged Israel in 2006 by killing a dozen soldiers, Israel responded with a devastating bombing raid killing at least 1,500 people.
Once again we see the disproportionate response in action. When protestors attacked with sticks, stones and knives they were dropped by automatic weapons.
Further parallel’s between today’s events and those recounted by Rose in 1945-48 can be found in one of the most decisive events in turning public opinion against Britain’s continuing mandate in Palestine, the bid to prevent the SS Exodus boat breaking a British blockade imposed to prevent uncontrolled post-war immigration into Palestine.
According to Rose, American journalist Izzy Stone “accused the British of murder and piracy on the high seas , pointing out that the Exodus had been attacked in international waters” [a charge levelled at Israel today] and includes an account by Captain Stanley Brian de Courcy-Ireland, commander of British blockade flagship Ajax, which is absolutely dripping with contemporary resonances:
“The [British] boarding parties soon learned what they were up against. Those that got over were assaulted from all angles...I was forced to draw my revolver and fired eleven warning shots. One of the last shots, however, I used to stop a lad of 17 or 18 from collecting my scalp with a meat axe. He got it in the stomach.”
Israel has already faced a wave of global condemnation for the deaths on the flotilla today, but the repercussions for this are yet to be seen. Britain may have been Israel’s midwife but its international influence is now too small for Israel to bother taking notice. It remains to be seen how USA, the nation that nurtured Israel through its troublesome adolescence first by turning a blind eye to illegal arms smuggling during the mandate and then becoming its chief arms supplier, responds in the long term.
The US remains in thrall to the Jewish lobby and one of the most entertaining episodes that shows this lobby at work in the last days of the mandate recounted in Rose involved future mayor of Jerusalem Teddy Kollek, Mafia boss Frank Costello’s New York nightclub the Copacabana and “Zionist sympathiser” Frank Sinatra taking centre stage in illegal arms smuggling, using tactics not too dissimilar to those allegedly used by Palestinian supporters in Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran today.
“Kollek recorded liaisons with spies, mobsters, movie moguls, statesmen bankers, professors, industrialists and newspapermen. The Hagana [the principle Jewish military organisation in mandated Palestine] arms mission profited greatly from the vast amounts of army surplus supplies left over from the war [including] rifles, machine guns, engine parts and aircraft...
“To finance their vast operation Kollek relied on donations from wealthy Jewish backers as well as from the Jewish agency...
“Transferring money – or bribes – to Kollek’s shady contacts was always a problem...It was common knowledge that Frank Sinatra was sympathetic to the Zionist cause. Only the previous autumn he had sung at a rally at the Hollywood Bowl attended by 20,000 Zionist supporters. The solution was logical. Kollek: “I walked out of the front door of the building with a satchel and the Feds followed me. Out of the back door went Sinatra, carrying a paper bag filled with cash.”
“Perhaps for the only time in his career, Sinatra had played an unscripted role, that of ‘bagman’ for the Haganah.”
Majd, The Ayatollah Begs To Differ
Hooman MajdThe Ayatollah Begs to Differ
2008
Majd, an English/US educated Iranian who moved to the US permanently after the Islamic Revolution, clearly still has a lot of love and affinity with his home country, and judging by this book the feeling is mutual.
He is the grandson of a revered Ayatollah and describes himself as both 100 per cent Iranian and 100 per cent American, making his book a decent window into the often imperceptible world of Iranian politics, religion and culture.
Majd skips from trendy cannabis-fuelled student parties to clapped out opium dens, and this striking contrast alone is enough to cast a thousand Iranian preconceptions assunder. Some westerners view Islamic Iran as abstinent and austere, but many of the youths Majd encounters live in thrall of American culture, taking "cool Western drugs" in contrast to the opium of the grandfathers. They watch scantily clad Iranians gyrate in music videos in defiance of the Revolution's strict dress codes.
The fact that many of the videos are made in the States may indicate a Western intent to ferment anti-revolutionary fervour amongst the youths, but in reality the Revolution doesn't appear to intrude into their private lives at all. Provided they keep their misdemenours behind closed doors, The Ayatollah, it seems, doesn't ask questions.
The nation's opium addicted old men, meanwhile, seem too spaced out to care.
One of Iran's most interesting cultural foibles, which dominates Iranian society and therefore runs throughout the entire book, is the practice of "ta'arouf", an almost manic politeness that makes even a simple taxi-ride a battle of self-deprication - ranging from "I am your devoted servant" to "Piss, and I'll dive in". In the end Majd practically has to force the money into the driver's hand.
Ahmadinejad is apparently an expert at "ta'arouf", managing to be both self-depricating and acerbically withering in a single sentence.
But it is the similarities between East and West the Majd exposes most colourfully, particularly the American God-fearing Right's pathological fear of fundamentalist Islam: "It strikes me often when I am in Iran that were Christian evangelicals to take a tour of Iran today, they might find it the model for an ideal society they seek in America.
"Replace Allah with God, Muhammad with Jesus, keep the same public and private notions of chastity, sin, salvation and God's will, and a Christian republic is born."
Lawrence, Seven Pillars of Wisdom
T.E. LawrenceSeven Pillars of Wisdom
1926 (Vintage edition with introduction by Robert Fisk 2007)
The ur-text of Middle Eastern war reporting and top of the reading list for US Army officers during the last war in Iraq.
At the beginning of Lawrence of Arabia, the celebrated 1962 biopic very loosely based on Seven Pillars, a young reporter approaches Allenby [former commander in chief of the Egyptian Expeditionary Force and Lawrence’s paymaster] for a few words at Lawrence’s memorial service. “More words?” Allenby retorts, disdainfully.
After battling through nearly 700 pages of Lawrence’s dense and flowery recollection of his role in the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Turks in World War I, I can quite understand the sentiment – but what words!
My 2007 Vintage edition of Seven Pillars displays a neat endorsement by Winston Churchill on the back cover, calling it one of “the greatest books ever written in the English language”. He added: “As a narrative of war and adventure it is unsurpassable.”
As a narrative of adventure, the landscapes, characters and language Lawrence brought home from the Middle East are even more fantastic and otherworldly than anything Tolkein would later dream up for Middle Earth, and as a narrative of war it is still largely unrivalled.
This edition comes complete with a brisk and rather unsatisfying introduction by Robert Fisk, and the my final few pages dovetailed nicely with the BBC’s two-part documentary The Legacy of Lawrence of Arabia, narrated by former Iraq provincial governor [and current Tory parliamentary candidate] Rory Stewart. Both draw parallels with the Arab Revolt and the insurgency in Iraq, and highlight the continuing importance of the lessons Lawrence brought home from his war in the desert almost a century ago.
Penn Warren, All The Kings Men
Robert Penn Warren
All The King's Men
1946
A beautifully constructed Pulitzer Prize winning portrait of American politics and corruption. Governer Willie Stark is almost a premonition of Nixon a full 20 years before he rose to power and a quarter decade before his fall (partly through the work of this book's near namesake).
Every page is poetry, every character fully described. Penn Warren's language brings the book's American South setting alive, and allows Willie Stark to seduce you though his actions are so abhorrant, and in this way Penn Warren created a wholly believable politician.
Favourite Stark quote, "There's something on everybody. Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud."
I wonder if Nixon had this in mind when he sent out his "ratfuckers".
All The King's Men
1946
A beautifully constructed Pulitzer Prize winning portrait of American politics and corruption. Governer Willie Stark is almost a premonition of Nixon a full 20 years before he rose to power and a quarter decade before his fall (partly through the work of this book's near namesake).
Every page is poetry, every character fully described. Penn Warren's language brings the book's American South setting alive, and allows Willie Stark to seduce you though his actions are so abhorrant, and in this way Penn Warren created a wholly believable politician.
Favourite Stark quote, "There's something on everybody. Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud."
I wonder if Nixon had this in mind when he sent out his "ratfuckers".
Maupassant, Bel Ami
Guy de Maupassant
Bel Ami
1885
I re-read this after hearing a pretty ropey adaptation on Radio 4 at the weekend. Maupassant's tale of the rise-and-rise of a Parisian journalist who gossips his way into high society is a rare book, if only for the fact that the villain wins out in the end.
However, perhaps the fact that the central villain George Duroy rises through a society of villains contains a deeper message on the corrupt nature of power.
Maupassant's reluctance to knock down his womanising, conniving journalist in the end perhaps stems from his own tortured life. The blurb at the back of my Penguin Classics edition states that at the time of writing Maupassant was "already under a sentence of death from syphilis". Perhaps he found a life of social and sexual debauchery that does not come with any consequences - and indeed positively leads to advancement - very appealing.
There is also a contemporary lesson in Duroy's means of financial advancement, when he cottons on to his editor's plan to manipulate the financial markets by whipping up the fervour for a war in Morocco.
Look how well some companies did when a gang of unscrupulous oil barons connived their way into power and, with the help of some acquiescent media editors, whipped up the fervour for war in another Islamic country recently.
Bel Ami
1885
I re-read this after hearing a pretty ropey adaptation on Radio 4 at the weekend. Maupassant's tale of the rise-and-rise of a Parisian journalist who gossips his way into high society is a rare book, if only for the fact that the villain wins out in the end.
However, perhaps the fact that the central villain George Duroy rises through a society of villains contains a deeper message on the corrupt nature of power.
Maupassant's reluctance to knock down his womanising, conniving journalist in the end perhaps stems from his own tortured life. The blurb at the back of my Penguin Classics edition states that at the time of writing Maupassant was "already under a sentence of death from syphilis". Perhaps he found a life of social and sexual debauchery that does not come with any consequences - and indeed positively leads to advancement - very appealing.
There is also a contemporary lesson in Duroy's means of financial advancement, when he cottons on to his editor's plan to manipulate the financial markets by whipping up the fervour for a war in Morocco.
Look how well some companies did when a gang of unscrupulous oil barons connived their way into power and, with the help of some acquiescent media editors, whipped up the fervour for war in another Islamic country recently.
Coll, The Bin Ladens
Steve CollThe Bin Ladins: An Arabian Family in the American Century
2008
With a title like that you would expect the family's cave dwelling, Yank-baiting uber-terrorist to be the star of the show, but Osama is largely eclipsed by his lesser known but equally larger than life elders and siblings.
By far the most enthralling book I've read this year. The level of research is frightening and Coll's style is informal and entertaining, although one would expect nothing less from the former Washington Post and New Yorker staffer.
Each new character is introduced like friends at a party, and some of the Bin Laden's did love to party.
If anyone could be said to stand out from patriarch Mohammed bin Laden's 50 children it would be his eldest son and heir to the Bin Laden empire Salem. Salem is portrayed as charming, funny and worldly. He was the life and soul of the party, with a limited but frequently belted-out repertoir of Western party tunes.
Osama was Mohammed's seventh son and the only child by his tenth wife. His destructive world-view is largely presented through the prism of his fast-deteriorating relationship with the Bin Laden family, which had already been severed before 9/11. The Bin Ladens themselves remain perpetually in thrall of, and desperate to stay close to, Saudi Arabia's ruling Saudi kings.
Also revealed is the family's complex relationship with aeroplanes (Mohammed and Salem both died in one, Osama killed thousands with two), and there is a bizarre cameo appearance by everyone's favourite Scot Sean Connery.
Freedman, A Choice of Enemies
Lawrence Freedman
A Choice of Enemies: America Confronts the Middle East
2009
Concise and largely objective overview of 30 years of American foreign policy in the Middle East, by London King College's professor of war studies. Tellingly, for a concise overview, it still runs to around 600 pages of dense text, but it would be impossible to do justice to the book's remit in any less.
Freedman focuses his thesis on the crucial year 1979 - the year of the Iranian Islamic revolution, Saddam's rise to power in Iraq and the Russian invasion of Afghanistan - and lets the history unfold from there.
The book is a damning indictment of America's wavering policies in the Middle East, where allies swiftly become enemies. Much is said about the instability of Middle East politics, but as Freedman's book shows Mideast leaders are equally adept at exploiting the inherent instabilities in America's political system.
Witness how Khomenei waited until Carter left the White House, almost to the second, before he released the Iranian Embassy hostages, or how successive Israeli governments maintain their occupation of the West Bank and Golan by mobilising the powerful US Jewish-lobby and confounding successive Presidents with empty "accords" and aimless "road maps" to peace.
A Choice of Enemies: America Confronts the Middle East
2009
Concise and largely objective overview of 30 years of American foreign policy in the Middle East, by London King College's professor of war studies. Tellingly, for a concise overview, it still runs to around 600 pages of dense text, but it would be impossible to do justice to the book's remit in any less.
Freedman focuses his thesis on the crucial year 1979 - the year of the Iranian Islamic revolution, Saddam's rise to power in Iraq and the Russian invasion of Afghanistan - and lets the history unfold from there.
The book is a damning indictment of America's wavering policies in the Middle East, where allies swiftly become enemies. Much is said about the instability of Middle East politics, but as Freedman's book shows Mideast leaders are equally adept at exploiting the inherent instabilities in America's political system.
Witness how Khomenei waited until Carter left the White House, almost to the second, before he released the Iranian Embassy hostages, or how successive Israeli governments maintain their occupation of the West Bank and Golan by mobilising the powerful US Jewish-lobby and confounding successive Presidents with empty "accords" and aimless "road maps" to peace.
Hider, The Spiders of Allah
James HiderThe Spiders of Allah: Travels of an Unbeliever on the Frontline of Holy War
2009
The first Gulf II non-fiction page turner I've read, by The Times' Middle East bureau chief. The action is relentless, and Hider's visual style of writing unfolds like an action movie.
Unlike Simpson and Bowen, Gulf II was Hider's first war so he comes unburdened by the weight of history and experience to describe many of the war's atrocities with fresh eyes.
His central thesis that Islam is a brutal, backward and superstitious religion (the book's title alludes to the Iraqis' belief that an army of huge shrieking spiders had been sent by Allah to cut down the invading troops) is inflammatory and has a ring of old Colonialism about it - but Hider offsets this by describing plenty more atrocities conducted in the name of secular/Christian warfare.
Low points include an army senior commander ordering a sniper to cut down an old man collecting sticks in case his bundle contained an RPG, and American troops storming Basra with Team America's 'America: Fuck Yeah!' blaring from tank speakers without a hint of irony.
Gulf II has yet to be given the full Apocalypse Now or Jarhead Hollywood treatment, but when they do the producers could do worse than tear through Hider's book for source material.
Where Coppola's fictional Vietnamese villagers died to the haunting sound of Wagner, Iraqis lost their lives with "lick my butt, and suck on my balls" still ringing in their ears.
Woodward & Berstein, The Final Days
Bob Woodward & Carl Bernstein
The Final Days
1976
Day by day account of the last days of the Nixon regime, brought down in part by the authors' Washington Post reports.
Less breathless and immediate than All The President's Men, which was written in the white hot heat of Watergate, this is more of a dry historical account.
The reversal of writing credits from its predecessor (ATPM was credited to Bernstein & Woodward) suggests Woodward did most of the legwork while cultivating the Washington contacts that would keep him in print for the next three decades, while the more impetuous Bernstein was busy eating out on his new found fame.
This book is less Nixon: My Part In His Downfall and more The History of the Decline and Fall of the Nixon Empire.
The Final Days
1976
Day by day account of the last days of the Nixon regime, brought down in part by the authors' Washington Post reports.
Less breathless and immediate than All The President's Men, which was written in the white hot heat of Watergate, this is more of a dry historical account.
The reversal of writing credits from its predecessor (ATPM was credited to Bernstein & Woodward) suggests Woodward did most of the legwork while cultivating the Washington contacts that would keep him in print for the next three decades, while the more impetuous Bernstein was busy eating out on his new found fame.
This book is less Nixon: My Part In His Downfall and more The History of the Decline and Fall of the Nixon Empire.
Bowen, Six Days
Jermey Bowen
Six Days: How the 1967 War Shaped the Middle East
2004
Hour-by-hour account of the 1967 Six Day War. Much less readable than Bowen's follow up War Stories. Not for the uninitiated.
Six Days: How the 1967 War Shaped the Middle East
2004
Hour-by-hour account of the 1967 Six Day War. Much less readable than Bowen's follow up War Stories. Not for the uninitiated.
Simpson, The Wars Against Saddam
John Simpson
The Wars Against Saddam: Taking the Hard Road to Baghdad
2003
Refreshingly less self indulgant than some of Simpson's other work. Contains the best description of Saddam I've encountered to date - a brutal gangster rather than a head of state.
Simpson portrays Saddam as an unpleasant Don Corleone figure, with his brutal son Uday and his quieter but no less unpleasant son Qusay as his own Sonny and Michael. Son-in-law Hussein Kamel is the family's Fredo, defecting to Jordan in 1995 only to be lured back and killed for his treachery.
The Wars Against Saddam: Taking the Hard Road to Baghdad
2003
Refreshingly less self indulgant than some of Simpson's other work. Contains the best description of Saddam I've encountered to date - a brutal gangster rather than a head of state.
Simpson portrays Saddam as an unpleasant Don Corleone figure, with his brutal son Uday and his quieter but no less unpleasant son Qusay as his own Sonny and Michael. Son-in-law Hussein Kamel is the family's Fredo, defecting to Jordan in 1995 only to be lured back and killed for his treachery.
Bowen, War Stories
Jeremy Bowen
War Stories
2007
Eyewitness account of 20 years of war. Bowen has one eye on the big picture, and one eye on the human costs of war. His narrative always comes back to the individuals affected by war with dozens of tragic case-studies that bring the action home.
War Stories
2007
Eyewitness account of 20 years of war. Bowen has one eye on the big picture, and one eye on the human costs of war. His narrative always comes back to the individuals affected by war with dozens of tragic case-studies that bring the action home.
Zola, Germinal
Emile Zola
Germinal
1885
Fantastic docu-drama on life in a 19th Century French coal mine. Drawn from Zola's own research in the mines, as well as his own fertile imagination, the book draws to a tragic conclusion of classical Greek proportions (with a few nods to Greek mythology along the way).
Germinal
1885
Fantastic docu-drama on life in a 19th Century French coal mine. Drawn from Zola's own research in the mines, as well as his own fertile imagination, the book draws to a tragic conclusion of classical Greek proportions (with a few nods to Greek mythology along the way).
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