Son of Hamas: A Gripping Account of Terror, Betrayal, Political Intrigue, and Unthinkable Choices - Mosab Hassan Yousef

Son of Hamas tells the story of Mosab Hassan Yousef, whose father, Hassan Yousef, is the co-founder of Hamas. Though initially a proponent of jihad and intifada, the younger Yousef recanted and became a spy for the Israeli intelligence agency Shin Bet. His position made him the most valuable mole the organization had, and by his own account he was instrumental in avoiding numerous terrorist plots.

The book chronicles Yousef’s life while providing a primer on the contentious history of the land that bore him. His stance with Israel is unwavering, but his sympathy for his people is evident. He faces particular anguish when discussing his father, a man he admires greatly on a personal level, but whose endorsement of actions—tacit or otherwise—that bring death and destruction to Jews and fellow Muslims alike seems contrary to his gentle nature.

There is an element of spy thriller to the story’s second half, as Yousef chronicles the spycraft he undertook to avoid detection for nearly a decade. Primarily, though, the text is plainspoken and matter of fact, though Yousef doesn’t hide his emotion when describing traumas of his past.

Yousef is a polarizing figure in current times, and his absolutism puts off some moderates, but his book is engaging and worth a read for anyone who ants to view this complex and intractable conflict from a new angle.

Who By Fire - Matti Friedman

As I get older, I sometimes encounter stories that make me wonder how I could possibly have never heard about them before. In Who By Fire, Matti Friedman gives an impressionistic yet precise account of an event that should be part of the broader Rock ‘n Roll mythos alongside Elvis’ hip-shaking Ed Sullivan debut, The Beatles’ rooftop concert, and the fatal stabbing at Altamont Speedway.

In October 1973, Israel fought a brief and brutal war with Egypt and its Arab allies, waged by the latter in retaliation for an ignominious defeat in the Six Day War a few years earlier. The Israelis, careless with bravado from past victories, were caught completely by surprise, and faced the very real threat of annihilation. This conflict, launched on the eve of the Jewish Holiday Yom Kippur, drew Jews from around the world to come and defend their ancestral homeland, regardless of whether they’d once lived there or even visited (echoes of this can be seen in Ukraine today). One of these Jews, who came not to fight but to work on a kibbutz and free up a younger man for the front, was Leonard Cohen.

Cohen never saw a kibbutz. Israel knew he could serve the land he called his “myth home” better with his true gifts of poetry and song. And so he roved about the battlefields of Sinai with a contingent of musicians, playing concerts for weary troops, drifting between platoons like a phantom, leaving many who heard and saw him wondering if the encounter was even real. No footage of these concerts exists, and only a few photographs can be found.

From this material, alongside entries in Cohen’s journal and interviews with spectators, Matti Friedman pieces together a rough account of Cohen’s travels. It is solid journalism, precise when it can be an honest about its gaps when it can’t. Yet the strength of the book is not in reconstructing the minutia of a tour schedule (an impossible task; even Cohen didn’t know where exactly in Sinai he was most of the time), but in capturing the feeling of obligation and looming terror that haunted that war and all others. Indeed, Cohen isn’t even the true protagonist of this book. His concert is more a lens through which to view the lives of several young Israelis fighting for their survival and the survival of their country.

I was moved by this book in ways I didn’t expect. I feel I have a deeper knowledge of Cohen and his myth home for having read it. Though it lacks a cohesive ending, it is powerful from start to finish and adorned throughout with lovely prose. Worth a read from any Cohen fan, but even if you know his work only vaguely (as was the case for some of the soldiers he played for), this book still has a lot to offer through its timeless reflection of war and art, and the place one has in the other.

Badlands: A Tourist on the Axis of Evil - Tony Wheeler

You know how sometimes you’ll be halfway through a book or movie, and some small detail will catch your eye and you’ll realize that you’ve actually seen or read it before? I had the opposite experience with Bad Lands. I received a copy for Christmas years ago, and every time I saw it on my bookshelf since, I had clear memories of reading it. I recalled enjoying it, so I picked it up not long ago, looking for something breezy and not too daunting to counterbalance the wieghty works on my reading list.

But after a couple of chapters, it became increasingly clear that I hadn’t simply forgotten large swaths of text; I’d never read the thing in the first place. By the time I’d read about Albania’s history, which included being ruled by the spectacularly named King Zog, it was clear I’d simply fabricated a memory of having read it. i would definitely remember learning about a sovereign named King Zog.

The conceit of the book is a travelogue of countries with some reputation for danger. Bush’s Axis of Evil forms a rough framework, but the book ventures beyond this skeletal structure and into such countries as Burma, Cuba, and the aformentioned Albania (a country that Wheeler admits is no longer dangerous, and that I suspect he included mostly because he found it interesting rather than hewing to the theme). The Islamic world is well represented, with Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Libya all getting a chapter.

Descriptions of historical events and politcal issues intercut with details of Tony’s travels. He concludes with a (somewhat facetious) Evil Meter, ranking the level of corruption and danger indemic to each region, and uses this as a springboard to emphasize that even countries widely see nas Good have a seamier side. The book is arranged not by geography or theme, but alphabetically, which is as good as any other way, I suppos,e but feels a bit lazy.

Wheeler’s writing is straightforward and casual, with light jabs of humor to liven up the litany of places, sites, and historical figures. He’s no prose stylist, but the tone suits the work and kept things running smoothly.