Tuesday, May 11, 2021

Sensational News

Many years ago, in the early 2000s, I read an article in a magazine called The Diplomat. The cover story was about a woman calling herself ‘Souad’ who had written a best-selling memoir called ‘Burned Alive’. In fact, the story was not just ‘about’ this woman, but an exposure of the inconsistencies in her sensational story. The writer, an Australian academic and historian called Therese Taylor, did a brilliant job of applying logic and scepticism to the story told by Souad. Objective, factual and determined in her approach, Taylor wrote a brilliant piece of hard-hitting analysis.

I used this article as a teaching resource material for a groundbreaking course which was part of the A-Level English Literature syllabus in New South Wales, and part of a learning module called Representation and Text. The course taught critical thinking skills - deconstructing texts to remove the distorting impacts of exaggeration, understatement, selective omission, sensationalisation and other forms of misrepresentation of truth.

Taylor’s article was perfect for the topic. Her deconstruction of the narrative of Souad noted patterns of contradiction and assertions which directly conflicted with each other.


She applied scientific method, starting by identifying the emotive nature of the reviews of the book, and the way they ignored the inconsistencies in Souad’s narrative. This raised an alarm bell for her. The overview presented Souad as a victim, and Taylor identified the factors which made this representation so credible, including the historical context of the story.


Taylor summed up the story in a succinct but pointed overview: ‘Burned Alive, published pseudonymously under the name Souad, tells the story of a Palestinian girl who survived an attempted honor killing, fled her homeland in 1979, and now lives under a false name in Europe.’


Souad told a story of horrific and sustained suffering, from extreme poverty in childhood to chronic misogynistic treatment, the terrible normalization of barbaric cultural practices perpetrated on her because she was a woman, and finally her survival of attempted murder through an honor killing.


Step by step, Taylor countered in her subsequent analysis the claims made by Souad with investigative questions and contextual facts. Inevitably and sequentially, she formulated a theory which explained the inconsistencies she observed. Only then did she reach a conclusion.


Taylor noted several discrepancies in the harrowing tale of suffering detailed by Souad in her origin story. The two most significant are her description of seeing a sister of hers strangled with a telephone cord, and the actual degree to which she had suffered burns to her body by having kerosene poured on her head and set alight.


Taylor points out that at the date Souad said the strangling incident occurred, ‘None of the villages in the West Bank were connected to the telephone line as early as 1977... In fact, the vast majority of smaller communes still have no phone lines.’ In the article I read, Taylor notes without drama that ‘the means to commit this murder did not exist’.


As for the burns? The visible sign of her victimization? Taylor says, ‘Initially Souad claimed she had

burns to 90 % of her body, and the British translation stated that her son was born three months premature.’ When Taylor checked these assertions, and sent queries reproaching the publishers for such impossible claims, the London publishers explained that these points ‘had been made in error’ and would later be revised. The sensationalized story was a best seller in 2003.


The estimated degree of severity of the burns was reduced from 90% to 60%. If the reporting of a medical fact like this can be so wildly divergent, the whole story looks less than credible.


Taylor places this fantastic story told by Souad in the historical context of the immediate aftermath of 9/11. A tale in which a woman who has been victimized by her own countrymen and whose narrative supports the demonization of the Arab world got great traction in that vengeful, anti-terrorist world, in which bearded men in robes were otherised and maligned, and believed capable of every atrocity against innocent women.


Taylor’s publication of her article in The Diplomat, the Australian magazine where I saw it, resulted in Burned Alive coming under critique, as it ‘showed that the entire story was filled with errors of fact, and that Souad’s central claim to have survived for six weeks without any medical care, despite having petrol burns to most of her body, was physically impossible’.


The truth is hard to reach when it is veiled and layered with multiple falsehoods and serviceable subterfuges.
Taylor’s articles on Souad, ‘Truth, History and Honour Killing’ and ‘Fabricated: A Tale Of Two Memoirs’ are available online.


Taylor’s conclusion after her detailed investigation into the incident was that Souad had spun the story to specifically appeal to the biases of the Western audience. ‘Our society is strongly marked by the culture of victim hood,’ says Taylor. ‘This longing for victim voices causes sensationalist accounts to be favoured, and the more delicate testimonies of real people are drowned out in an irrational clamour.’


In ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’, that famous story of justice, bias and prejudice by Harper Lee, the young girl who narrates the story tells us ‘Atticus (her father, a lawyer) told me to delete the adjectives, and I’d have the facts’.


That’s an excellent rule of conduct, when dealing with people who have vested interests in exaggerating and distorting facts in order to present themselves as worthy of our investment in them and their suffering.


Therese Taylor’s work on this matter can also be read in ‘Truth, History, and Honor Killing’ on Antiwar.com and in ‘Fabricated: A Tale Of Two Memoirs’.

Positive Thinking

My colleague and friend Kumudini David recently had a PCR test done and tested positive for COVID-19. She was given the choice of staying in a hotel or a resort but could not afford that, as the cost is about LKR 250,000 for the period of supervised quarantine. Kumu opted for the local quarantine centre alternative, monitored and controlled by the Sri Lankan Government, which is provided free of charge to all citizens who are in mandatory quarantine, and supervised by the SL Army.

Kumu has kept a detailed journal of her experience at this facility, from the bus trip to the allocated regionally located quarantine centre, through the days that followed, updating her friends and followers on Facebook.

The updates were fascinating to read, and I am not the only one who included the reading of these bulletins as part of my daily routine. What interested me particularly was the radical change in Kumudini’s approach as she confronted the challenges she faced, both personally and in the situations of the women she was quarantined with, at Rambukkana Quarantine Centre.

The period of quarantine took place in a large building belonging to the Brandix Company, and this facility is run in partnership by the Sri Lankan Army and the Kegalle Hospital, which had been offered for the purpose of providing space for those who had tested Covid positive to quarantine during this period of the pandemic crisis.

Kumu’s initial photographs showed metal beds and understandably unadorned premises. This was a basic facility. Because it was free of cost to those quarantining. They had been given half an hour to get the essential items they needed for a 10-14 day stay away from their homes, and many were not prepared.

Those in quarantine were divided by gender and initially also by ethnic community. The women in Kumu’s quarantine centre were faced with toilets which were in a bad state, and those who were menstruating or pregnant or had just given birth were concerned about their sanitation and hygiene needs. Sanitary napkins and towels and nappies for infants were urgently needed. Hygienic disposal of these was also needed, as these processes were not initially foremost in the minds of most of the male personnel in charge.

Many were traumatized: not only by worries for themselves, and how they individually would respond to the onset of the illness, but by being separated from their children and families for an extended period of time. They were worried about not being able to be in contact with husbands and kids, and elderly parents who they were caring for. Their phones needed to be reloaded, to ensure that this contact was sustained.

That first day, as we can see in her report, Kumu was stressed, and anxious, and also angry. But it only took a few hours before she realized that she was not powerless and did not have to be resigned and passive in this situation.

She did not waste time in self pity, or extended bouts of anxiety, or in complaining about the authorities or the shortcomings in the system, or the state of the world. Kumu is a practical and optimistic person, and in the years I have known her I have seen how she faces down oncoming challenges with energy and intelligence.

She has both high IQ and EQ, and this dynamic fusion of leadership qualities was strongly illustrated by what she did next.

She heard the complaints and worries of the women around her, and she started on Day 2 to set in place certain unofficial processes by which these concerns were heard and addressed. She asked them all to list all the things they individually needed, and worked out how much this would cost.

She then turned to her extensive network of friends and colleagues on Facebook and presented us with the reality of the situation, and asked us to raise funds by donating whatever we could, not only in terms of finances, transferred electronically or via direct deposit, but in the form of actual goods. These included Astra margarine, staples like milk powder, rice and lentils, and also tinned and dry food packets, cleaning liquids and soap powder to wash their clothes. The children were able to be given drawing books and coloured pencils.

Kumu’s circle met her request with generosity and promptness. She was able to raise almost a million rupees in a few days, an extraordinary result. This amount was in excess of what was required for this particular group of women, so some of the funds will be allocated to store goods for future inmates, and also for other quarantine facilities which are in need of this community-funded support.

It is her hope that others will be inspired and encouraged to do the same in the weeks and months ahead, as the community increasingly gets tested and the extent of the virus’s transmission is traced. Many people have been reluctant to be tested, as they were anxious about the very situation faced by Kumu and her fellow inmates - of abrupt loss of freedom and confinement in circumstances over which they had no control.

That first day, the women gave Kumu a nickname in Sinhala which she immediately embraced, and wears with pride. Despite experiencing some of the symptoms of the coronavirus, including fatigue, mild fever and headaches, she lifted and moved the metal beds in the facility into better arrangements and positions in the facility, according to the other women’s needs. They named her their ‘Sister who moves beds’.

Kumudini is a fellow graduate of SEALA (South East Asia Leadership Academy), and during our programme in 2018 her nickname was ‘The Warrior’. She is a born leader. She laughs and says she is bossy and outspoken. But she embodied great leadership, in this situation. What we all learned in concept and theory at the Academy was put into direct practice here, by her, and we all see how effective it is.

Kumu acted in the Rambukkana Quarantine Centre as an unofficial hall monitor, making sure that when the goods came, brought in boxes via vehicles packed and driven by her friends from Colombo, that the ladies lined up and received equitable amounts of everything as per their real requirements. No pushing, no shoving, no arguing, no meanness.

Kumu’s story is an inspiring example of how one person’s positive approach to the biggest crisis of our time can benefit hundreds of others with whom she is in contact. Previously unknown to each other, and with many differences in social class, level of education and personal upbringing, they formed a community under her leadership and as a result of her initiative.

We hope that this story will go viral, and prompt others to realize that with co-operation and determination and a good attitude, through our collaborative efforts we can turn even this challenge which confronts us into an opportunity for growth, learning and even blessing.

The crucial point is that it is the attitude of positive determination and empathy that enabled Kumudini to do this. She did not judge anyone or trivialize anyone’s situation. She didn’t feel paralyzed or helpless for long. She took action, with understanding of the real needs (both spoken and unspoken) of those she was acting for. She acted to represent them to act positively in a situation where they initially must have felt helpless and despairing. And she represented all of them.

Kumu says: ‘The segregation didn't last. We are all working together now. I will continue to work on helping this Quarantine Centre and others.’

Note: This image of Kumudini David was created by the artist Randy Chriz Perera.