A pivotal flaw in Cathy Otten's otherwise scathing account for OR Books, With Ash on their Faces, is the imposition of her background and upbringing upon her journalistic assessment of a highly complex and polarised unfolding human horror.
Even as I write this, the renowned international human rights lawyer Amal Clooney has just announced the reinvigoration of her campaign involving the United Nations - and its members including Iraq - against the atrocities still being suffered by the "Yazidi people as survivors of Islamic State war crimes." Clooney has been raising awareness of
these outrageous events for several years on the international stage. It's difficult to understand why her work wasn't considered in even a footnote of Otten's book.
Make no mistake - Otten's well-resourced reportage of Kurdistan's beleaguered religious and ethnic minority Yezidi people provides an important record for any future they may have. Recycling her many articles about the complex changing fortunes of the region, including disturbing interviews with those directly affected, has allowed her a
unique insight into the see-saw of power controlled by national governments and regional factions alike.
What doesn't quite work is that tricky matter of focus. Her reports remain just that, producing an almost aleatory structure of her story, as opposed to that of the Yezidis. The book is tagged with the sub-title "Yezidi women and the Islamic State." It almost goes without saying that the treatment by ISIS [Islamic State of Iraq and Syria] of
its captors offends the very notion of humanity.
The title itself is meant to deepen our understanding of the intensity of the women's resistance, given their impotence as kidnapped slaves. Rubbing ash over their faces was meant to put off their captors who use rape as a weapon.
That Otten has chosen to highlight both the plight and courageous tactics of women in particular is admirable, especially given their perception as social inferiors. But the focus of her narrative blurs the message because it makes assumptions about its readership.
What's unclear is the level of prior interest and information anyone may bring to the subject. If I'm as typical as most, that wouldn't be all that much. Of course, as a responsible cultural analyst I've heard news reports over the past few years, and read the odd article about Yezidi, Christian and other ethnic abuse by Islamic State. Though I'm very pleased to get the opportunity to learn more from someone who's dedicated much of her life to an intimate understanding of the issues, Otten's presentation leaves me feeling I've read a kind of dissertation whose every reference I need to re-visit before moving on.
She's so tethered to a visceral as well as an intellectual understanding. My reading experience feels like trying to grab handfuls of slippy mercury, the facts falling into mud underfoot.
Even the use of Otten's spelling is confusing. She refers throughout to "Yezidis", when nearly every other reference cites the ethnic minority as "Yazidi"... as per Amal Clooney, and press articles by such as Raya Jalabi and Emma Graham-Harrison, all equally immersed in the evolution of their socio-political journey.
The difference between the accounts of specific incidents detailed in a single article and the continuity required for an entire book depends most of all on structure and the intended readership. Where Otten succeeds is presenting the blanket of loyalty which comforts every one of the victims of ISIS brutality. But it's a patchwork affair.
Whether her blanket covers the male survivors who have given themselves the freedom to reveal to Otten the horror of their individual journey, or her reports on the degrees of abuse meted out by various factions to Yezidi women, young and old, as well as their children, the book is not structured as a driving narrative. The effect on the uninformed reader is a confusing bombardment of incidents. And, because there's neither a chronological direction of travel, nor a focus on just one or two main characters, those incidents unwittingly become a list rather than story.
Sadly, such a repetitive reportage amid such minimal context can prove counter-productive. It's perfectly understandable why Otten has referred to the women survivors by false names, and why the descriptions of their homes and places both of torture and safety are minimal. But it's a choice that she cannot sustain, and we're left with too many questions unanswered. Perhaps the most elusive is her reluctance to reveal very much about herself. That heightens the isolation we feel as readers... not much distinction between the main characters within a context that cannot even be anchored to the persona of the author.
Of course, if Otten's book is meant for a more specific audience, one already familiar with the changing landscape of the troubled borderlands of Kurdistan, Turkey, Iraq, and Syria, then many of the references will make more sense. Though I suspect the litany of year-on-year abuse will be preaching to the converted.
As it is, the book reads too much like a collection and distillation of her various articles over the years. It needs the focus of fiction, where one character takes on the persona of many, their tragic abuse and eventual escape conflated into a story which even uninformed readers can identify with.
I wish Otten had borrowed Amal Clooney's strategy for the press, for the United Nations, and for the courts of law she addresses. It's built around her Yazidi client Nadia Murad, whose abuse as a kidnapped woman sold into serial slavery for sex and household drudgery, represents others with similar stories. It allows Clooney to demonstrate the complexities of their horrid mistreatment without equivocation. And it frees her as their champion to become an even more effective critic of their criminal abusers.
In other words, she exploits the extrapolation from the one to the many, hewing a path we can follow, though it leads to dark places indeed.