A Woman Among Warlords, Malalai Joya

The subtitle of this remarkable woman's book, "The Extraordinary Story of an Afghan Who Dared to Raise Her Voice," does not do justice to the magnitude of the heroism displayed by Malalai Joya in Afghanistan.  Here in the United States, we love to complain about our government, and exposing hypocrisy, nepotism, and corruption makes great sport (see Michelle Malkin's book).  But we live in a blissful political Eden compared to Afghanistan.

Joya's father lost his leg in the fight against the Soviet occupation, so from her earliest memories she was no stranger to sacrificing for freedom.  Much of her childhood was spent in refugee camps in Pakistan. Sharing the love of learning she got from her parents, she began teaching girls in underground schools.  After gaining some noteriety as a teacher, a women's group asked her to return to Afghanistan to teach in secret schools under the nose of the Taliban.  After the Taliban fell and parliamentary elections were held, Joya became the youngest person in parliament.

She quickly gained a reputation as being an outspoken critic of the new government, which, with the strong support of the U.S., was made up of the warlords who had terrorized Afghanistan, and, in some cases, the Taliban itself.  She writes that "intolerance, brutality, and the severe oppression of women in Afghanistan" does not characterize only the Taliban's regime, but that "some of the worst atrocities in our recent past were committed during the civil war by the men who are now in power."  She says that the U.S. "wanted a civil war in Afghanistan, since it was afraid of the huge quantity of weapons in the hands of the mujahideen."  After 9/11, the U.S. supported the Northern Alliance in the defeat of the Taliban, but "Afghan people believed that they were no better than the Taliban."

Given the opportunity to represent her region in parliament, Joya spoke out, criticizing the fact that the government was made up of so many warlords and their supporters.  Rather than sit in a position of power, they should be tried for their war crimes.  The first time she spoke in session, her microphone was turned off.  In two years in parliament, she never spoke without her microphone being turned off.  Not only did she gain notoriety, fame, and the adoration of the common people of Afghanistan, she also became the subject of threats and physical attack, even by her fellow members of parliament, and was the target of multiple assassination attempts.

I have heard the anti-war rhetoric of the American left, and I ignore it.  They so frequently mischaracterize the role of the U.S. abroad that they have not credibility with me.  But Joya, writing from the perspective of a Afghan woman, is highly critical of U.S. involvement--she would say occupation--of Afghanistan.  American officials tout the freedom and education of women, but the plight of women is still as dismal as ever.  Most of the country is not governed by the government, but by warlords and drug lords.  And the Americans are holding up a regime that is tainted by a large number of war criminals.  Joya calls for a full withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan, and is optimistic that "democratic-minded individuals and parties" will "fight the influence of extremism and bring real democracy to our country."

I wish I shared her optimism.  The U.S. has badly failed the Afghans terribly, supporting and arming first one group of thugs and now another.  The U.S. presence in Afghanistan has made matters worse for a generation, but, given the current regime, I don't see how getting out will make matters better.  I do find it hard to disagree with Joya when she writes: "For successive U.S. governments, their own military, regional, economic, and strategic interests have been considered before everything else and they have been ready to sacrifice millions of Afghans to meet these interests.  Their nice words about 'human rights,' 'justice,' 'freedom,' 'liberation,' democracy,' and so on are nothing more than lies.  They put no value on the lives of Afghan people."

A book like this makes me happy to be an American.  One representative calling the president a liar draws shock and disbelief in the United States.  During sessions of parliament, Joya is shouted down, called a whore and worse, physically attacked, had her hair pulled out--all by other members of parliament.  My prayer for Afghanistan is that peace and true democracy will come to pass in that country.  I have a feeling that the current generation's grandchildren and their grandchildren will look back to Malalai Joya as part of the answer to that prayer.

Culture of Corruption, by Michelle Malkin

Sometimes the subtitle of a book sums up the whole content.  This one may not sum it up, but it does reveal the direction and intent of Michelle Malkin's book: Culture of Corruption: Obama and His Team of Tax Cheats, Crooks, and Cronies.  Suffice it to say that Malkin is not a fan of Obama and his appointees and advisors.  If you remember some of the coverage and headlines about, for instance, his cabinet appointees' tax problems, that only scratches the surface of the dirt that Malkin covers here.

Her point is not that Washington culture is full of backscratching, back-room deals, and lots of unaccountable and under the table cash.  That is self-evident to anyone who follows politics.  She does provide endless, sickening examples of that culture in Obama world, and if you're not thoroughly sickened by the filth and corruption of these people, you have thick skin.

Her larger point is the hypocrisy of Team Obama.  For all of his talk of keeping lobbyists out of his administration, they are found in every corner.  For someone who gave campaign speeches about Washington being broken, he has embraced the brokenness.  For someone who claims to speak for the common man and not for the financial elite, he sure seems pour out love (and our money) to Wall Street insiders.

I know this same type of book could be written (and probably has been written) about the Bushes or just about any other administration.  To me, this is more an anti-big-government book than an anti-Obama book.  There is too much power in the White House, and, as Lord Acton pointed out, power tends to corrupt.

I want to make one thing clear: nothing in this book criticizes Obama's political views or policies.  Although I'm sure Malkin would find plenty to disagree on with the president, she focuses solely on the corruption, the big money deals, the borderline legal deal making, and the general stench surrounding Obama and his friends.

By the way, I saw this article on cnn.com the other day, describing the IRS "report a tax cheat" program.  I think I'll just sit outside the White House entrance and write down the names of everyone who goes in and send the list to the IRS.  Or maybe Malkin should just send the IRS a copy of her book.

Gun, With Occasional Music, Jonathan Lethem

This is science fiction.  But in the limited sense that it takes place in some near future, in which genetically enhanced animals work as domestic servants, and police, instead of giving tickets and prosecuting crime, deduct karma points from offenders' ID cards.  More than what you might typically picture as sci-fi, this is a private eye story.  (I kept thinking of Garrison Keillor's Guy Noir character: "A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions. Guy Noir, Private Eye." Cue the slow, jazzy sax theme.)

The best part of Gun is Lethem's picturesque phrases.  (Come to think of it, these lines would fit well in a Guy Noir skit.)  Every now and then there will be a memorable sentence or two that makes me smile.  Some examples:

The clouds were still bunched up in the sky like a gang on a street corner, and it looked to me like they had the sun pretty effectively intimidated.

The case [which he was investigating] was like some kind of invasive malignancy.  It filled whatever space it was given, and worse, blended itself into the healthy tissue so you didn't know where to make the cut.  It had blended itself into my life.

It was the kind of neighborhood where you give your car a little involuntary glance back over your shoulder after you park it, and if you have any doubt whether you locked it, and doubt at all, you walk all the way back just to check.

I was stupid enough to think there was something wrong with the silence that had fallen like a gloved hand onto the bare throat of the city.

She [a potential client trying to seduce him] applied herself to the front of my body like a full-length decal, seeking points of pressure all the way up and down, and working them until they responded.

[After getting bashed on the head by his adversary's henchman]  Then the floor peeled up in a curl to embrace the sides of my head, and the weave of the carpet spiraled up to tickle the inside of my nose.

Clever phrases and colorful language aside, there is a story here.  But it wasn't one that enthralled me.  This is one of those books that is somewhat enjoyable for the reading experience, but in terms of story, I was ready to get it over with.  By the time the detective got around to figuring out who killed whom and why, I didn't really care.  Suffice to say that the continual references to "make"--the government-provided blends of drugs with ingredients like addictol, forgetol, and acceptol--ends up not being simply a part of the background of Lethem's future America, but a crucial plot element.

I am sufficiently curious about Lethem's work that I might pick up another of his novels at some point.  Fans of the dark, literary sci-fi of Philip Dick and his ilk might enjoy Gun, With Occasional Music, but Lethem's definitely an acquired taste.

The Woods, by Harlan Coben

I have found that when choosing audio books, lighter fare is sometimes better.  When listening in snippets, and stopping in the middle of chapters, it's easier to pick the story back up next time I get in the car.  The drawback is that if a book is a page-turner, the kind you want to keep reading at night instead of going to sleep, that means when you get where you're going, you want to stay in the car and keep listening.  Harlan Coben writes that kind of book.

Paul Copeland was traumatized when 2 kids at his summer camp were found murdered in the woods nearby, and his sister and another camper were missing.  Their bloody clothes were found, but not their bodies.  He entered a career in law enforcement, in part to deal with the loss of his sister and the guilt he felt.  He was supposed to be on "guard duty" that night, but left his post for a liaison with his girlfriend.  He has become a county prosecutor with a promising political future.

Now the missing boy camper has turned up, 20 years later, murdered, shot in the head and dumped in an alley.  And Paul's camp girlfriend, who has changed her identity and is a college instructor, reads an anonymous student essay that recounts the events at camp 20 years ago, including details that only she and Paul would know.  While trying to figure out what's going on, he's also in the midst of prosecuting some college kids accused of rape, a la the Duke lacrosse case.  The kids' wealthy family start digging in to Paul's past, hoping to blackmail him into settling out of court.

If it all sounds contrived and manipulative, it is.  But that's the fun of suspense fiction, right?  Although the descriptive language, character development and dialogue, and even a bit of social commentary are well done, no one should pick this up expecting great literature.  But for an entertaining read, it's worth a look.  Or listen.  Just be sure you're not late for work because you were sitting in the car listening to find out what happened.

In Praise of Prejudice: The Necessity of Preconceived Ideas

I know the title of this book is off-putting.  Prejudice is a dirty word, immediately invoking images of segregated lunch counters and hooded Klansmen.  But Thomas Dalrymple wants to rehabilitate the notion of prejudice.  Dalrymple, a British medical doctor, separates the notion of race and prejudice.  Prejudice, in the broader sense, refers to acceptance of authority, values outside of oneself, judgment, and discernment.  Dalrymple is certainly prejudiced: he has a prejudice for parental authority, for families sharing mealtime, for sexual abstinence outside of marriage, for dressing formally in dark clothes for funerals, and against putting one's feet on the seat of a passenger train. 

Modern, liberal thinkers like to reject prejudice, declaring themselves free-thinking individuaulists, but, Dalrymple points out, "To overturn a prejudice is not to destroy prejudice as such.  It is rather to inculcate another prejudice."  For instance, "The prejudice that it is wrong to bear a child out of wedlock has been replaced by the prejudice that there is nothing wrong with it at all."  As a doctor serving in an English prison and slum areas, he saw first-hand the effects of the lack of prejudice against unwed motherhood.  And certainly the middle class is not exempt from those effects.

More broadly, he argues, the rejection of conventional norms, the glorification of unconventionality for the sake of unconventionality, the rejection of pre-conceived ideas, and the rejection of authority as a valid source of knowledge lead to intellectual, societal, and moral anarchy.  Attempts to eliminate prejudice and promote economic and social equality have historically lead to genocidal atrocities.  Even the enlightened intelligentsia's call to question everything and live in suspicion of any authority (which is itself a paradoxical argument from authority) leads one to the conclusion of the unknowability of anything.  He gives the following example: he knows that the Battle of Hastings was fought in 1066.  But if he were asked to prove it using primary sources, he could spend a lifetime trying to do so without convincing a hardened skeptic.  Such is futility of the prejudice against trust in authority.  Ultimately, such a course leads to an egotistical, sociapathic reliance on the authority of no one but oneself.

He concludes, "We need both the confidence to think logically about our inherited beliefs, and the humility to recognize that the world did not begin with us, and that the accumulated wisdom of mankind is likely to be greater than anything we can achieve by our unaided efforts.  The expectation, desire, and pretense that we can go naked into the world, shorn of all prejudices and preconceptions, so that every situation is wholly new to us, is in equal measure foolish, dangerous, and wicked."

I love Dr. Dalrymple's perspective.  He brilliantly links philosophical movements with their ultimate expression in society.  Many great (by the standards of intelligentsia) thinkers do not realize the devastating implications of their ideas as expressed in cultural norms.  Dalrymple's intellectual prowess and clinical experience come together here for a biting critique of the prejudice against prejudice.  In Praise of Prejudice is a satisfying, challenging read.

The Man Who Fell to Earth

I have always loved science fiction, but for some reason I never read this classic by Walter Tevis.  Many sci-fi writers are trained scientists or science geeks who build stories around speculative science.  Some do it well, some not so well.  Others are fantasy writers who abuse science to fit their fantasies.  Some of these are fun to read, some are trash.  Tevis is neither of these.  This is the same writer who wrote The Color of Money and The Hustler, novels about pool, and The Queen's Gambit, a novel about chess.  He writes a beautiful story about the human condition, which happens to be built around a sci-fi theme.

Thomas Newton looks much like an ordinary human.  To the casual observer, he blends right in.  What no one knows is that he came to Earth on a desperate mission to save his own people, who live on another planet in our solar system.  They have devastated their own planet, and want to prevent us from destroying the Earth, so that they can relocate here.  Newton's mission is to build a shuttle that he can send back home to bring his people to Earth.  Newton obtains patents for the advanced technological knowledge of his people and amasses a huge fortune, which he directs toward the building of the spaceship. 

Unfortunately, our world affects Newton more than he imagined.  Through his monitoring of Earth's television broadcasts, he became aware of the nuclear arms buildup.  During his time on Earth, he wonders about the inevitability of our self-destruction through nuclear war.  He wonders aloud to a scientist who works for him when and whether it might happen.  The scientist asks, "And what's going to stop it then?  Human virtue?  The Second Coming?"  Newton replies, "Maybe it will be the Second Coming indeed.  Maybe it will be Jesus Christ himself."  The scientist jokes, "If he come, he'd better watch his step."  Newton presciently replies, "I imagine he'll remember what happened to him the last time."

Any messianic hopes that may have been raised by Newton's coming are dashed, however, on his own succumbing to human nature.  It's almost as if Jesus were to come to Earth, but got sucked in by the mediocrity and pettiness of human life, instead of leading us above it.  Newton knew his mission would be difficult, but

he, the Anthean, a superior being from a superior race, was losing control, becoming a degenerate, a drunkard, a lost and foolish creature, a renegade and, possibly, a traitor to his own. . . . He felt like a man who had been surrounded by reasonably amiable, silly, and fairly intelligent animals, and has gradually discovered that their concepts and relationships are more complex than his training could have led him to suspect.  Such a man might discover that, in one or more of the many aspects of weighing and judging that are available to a high intelligence, the animals who surround him and who foul their own lairs and eat their own filth might be happier and wiser than he.

Ultimately, the authorities do capture him, but rather than decide he's a threat to us or our way of life, they release him to a quiet, lonely life.

Unlike much sci-fi, The Man Who Fell to Earth is more meditative and reflective than hard sci-fi or space opera.  It's worth a read, and raises some interesting questions about ultimate meaning.  For those who know Jesus, the real messiah, however, questions raised by a failed messiah ring hollow.

Once a Runner, by John Parker

While driving to and from Hunstville for Rocky Racoon, I listend to John Parker's Once a Runner, which Runner's World calls the "best novel ever written about running."  Well, I don't know how many novels have been written about running, but this is definitely a good one.  Perhaps the best thing about Once a Runner is the legendary cult following around it.  Parker self published the novel in the late 1970s and famously sold it out the trunk of his car at running events.  It eventually gained a following and good reviews in the running world.  After catching some high prices on the used book market, it was finally reprinted last year.

Once a Runner is best enjoyed by competitive runners.  It follows Quenton Cassidy's quest for a four minute mile and Olympic glory.  As a captain of a college track team and an aspiring lawyer, the other guys solicit his help with a petition protesting new haircut and dress code policies imposed by the athletic director, who's also head football coach.  In the interest of quieting the upstarts, Cassidy is banned from the team and the campus.  He retreats to his mentor's country house, where he trains for his big comeback.

The appeal of Once a Runner reaches well beyond runners.  With the details about training and racing, the non-runner might skip over some passages, but mostly this is a novel about college life in the 1970s, and one young man's determination to follow his dreams.  But even a non-runner will get caught up in Cassidy's climactic race, feeling his heart beating right along with the runner's.

Of course, I have to mention a brief endorsement of barefoot running.  When Denton, trying to convince Cassidy to move out to the country house to train, describes the setting, says, "Move out here, Quenton, and train. . . . There are great trails out here and a little grassy field for intervals.  You can run barefoot on it the way you like to.  It'd be ideal, a runner's paradise."  Great trails, grassy fields; runner's paradise indeed!