Daoud Hari

You can also see my review at my blog, www.bostonbibliophile.com.

The Translator : A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur is a light, thin volume on a heavy subject- the ongoing genocide against non-Arabs in the Darfur region of Sudan. The narrator/author, Daoud Hari, worked as a translator for aid agencies, reporters and United Nations officials, after escaping government attacks on his own village and fleeing to neighboring Chad. His story is amazing.

I didn't know much about the specifics of the show more origins of the war in Sudan when I opened the book but Hari offers a pencil-sketch history which was enough to get me started in an appendix. The book opens in the thick of the action with an anecdote showing Hari and a reporter being stopped by some troops and having to do some fast talking- just another day on the job. Then Hari backtracks, talks about his life and some adventures before the war, but before we know it the attacks have started, Hari must flee, and everything has changed. In the refugee camps and elsewhere he is witness to evidence and aftershocks of unbelievable brutality marking him and his companions indelibly. Throughout it all are vivid anecdotes and descriptions of a close, communal culture fractured by corrupt politicians, racism, trauma and greed. In the final chapters Hari details his harrowing capture, along with a reporter and their driver, by the Sudanese military and his eventual evacuation from Africa.

The writing style is all the more powerful for being so simple and direct. His friendly, light tone made me feel comfortable right away- the literary equivalent of the tradition of hospitality to which he refers again and again. It's like he's inviting us into his home, sharing customs and traditions with us over the page. He often breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader directly- what would you do in this situation, how would you react if that happened, etc.- drawing the reader closer and creating empathy. His matter-of-fact style helped bring home the horrors and the absurdity of what he faced, as well as some very humorous and very human moments from time to time. Hari himself comes across as thoughtful and pragmatic, doing what he needs to in order to stay alive and always devoted to helping in any way that he can.

At this point, using his story to attract attention to his cause is the method he chooses. The book's uncomplicated style worked well in chapters where there is a lot of action and activity- after the first few chapters I couldn't put it down it kept me going so. The ending seemed a little rushed though and I wish he had written more about his companions' fate and about his life in America. An extra chapter would serve nicely and would not overwhelm this brief volume. The situation leading to his emigration lasted for several chapters and he lingered over it so that when the ending came, it felt abrupt, almost like something was left on the cutting room floor. That quibble aside, it's a good book and a solid, engaging read for anyone interested in Darfur, Africa or genocide. Hari articulately describes a society on the verge of collapse and shows a range of emotions, from frustration, anger and shock all the way to gratitude and hope. His hope is that people who read the book will act on behalf of the people still suffering in Darfur. Let's hope that he's right. show less

The Translator by Daoud Hari
Daoud Hari is from Darfur and as war came to his village his family encouraged him to fight not with a gun but with his education. With his ability to translate, Daoud worked to help as many journalist and government officials as possible tell the story of what was happening to his people and his country despite the very real threat to his own life. Yet I doubt that any reporter could tell the world the heartbreaking truth of the genocide that has and is occurring show more in Darfur as eloquently as Daoud Hari does himself in this book. show less

I wasn't sure I wanted to read this book. I was dreading the horrible stories, the Rwanda-like massacres, the neverending awfulness that would make me want to weep if I wasn't so numb from hearing it all day every day from the CNN loop. At some point the numbers get so large, it's impossible for us to comprehend and we just shut down. I really didn't want to read it. But I'm tremendously glad that I did.

Part war memoir, part genocidal survival guide, part humanitarian challenge, Daoud Hari's show more slim book is a triumph. I have no idea how one can endure what he has endured and still remain so human, let alone exhibit the tremendous spirit Hari shows here. Along with the horror stories I was dreading so much (ashamed as I am to say that), are the testimonies to our individual and collective strength as human beings. Over and over again, Hari challenges us to put ourselves in his shoes, to relate as if it were our town, our home, our sisters, daughters, fathers, cousins. What if it happened to us? Would we be so brave? Would we be destroyed or keep going? Would we do everything we could knowing we could die in the next minute? Would we rage at God or renew our faith?

My favorite chapter is a small one. Nestled in tiny Chapter 10, Hari describes the refugee camps in detail for the first time, a sea of bright colored fabrics from the women and girls, all sweltering amid the temporary shelters made out of canvas and plastic tarps. And there it is. "Canvas and plastic make very hot shelters in a desert, and these were what the world had sent - exactly the wrong thing and not nearly enough of it." I couldn't believe it. It's so obvious! What were we thinking? What had we done? Did we just send scraps of material we didn't need? Was it intentionally ridiculous or just some horribly embarrassing mistake? There's no way of knowing, but it again drove home the point that it is always paying attention to the details around life's necessities that can make the difference. If just one of the brilliant architects competing to build the next mall in Dubai would instead focus their energy on building practical, portable, sustainable refugee housing that could be deployed at a moment's notice anywhere from Darfur to Palestine, we could start to alleviate the suffering of millions of the displaced. Just a thought...wouldn't want to ruin your latte or anything.

For those that have suffered so much, the least we can do is shine a spotlight on their stories. I'm ashamed for delaying my reading; I'm trying to make up for it by telling everyone I can about Hari's book and, by engaging in meaningful dialogue about the crisis in Darfur, determining if there's maybe one more thing I might do to help. show less

That most striking aspect of this book was simply that it brought a vague picture into focus. I knew that there was a serious war going on in Darfur. However, was it a religious war between Muslims and non-Muslims?...a racially- or tribally-motivated genocide?...something else? I didn't know. I didn't even have an idea of the scope since I had seen reports that hundreds of thousands had died, but I had also seen reports an order of magnitude smaller.

Daoud Hari's account clarifies the show more situation. Having escaped from Darfur, he returned several times as a translator for agents of various news organizations in an attempt to get the stories of the mass exterminations, the pervasive starvation, and the institutionalized rapes out before the world’s eyes.

Yet, for all the grimness, there is also a bit of hope. Hari's actions, themselves, provide some of that—his constant willingness to return to danger in order to help someone else. So, too, do the actions of reporters who endure torture and imprisonment to get stories, and aid workers who are often targeted by terror squads, yet keep working.

Hari tells his story with a wry sense of humor wherever humor is possible. He also, when referring to first world nations, takes pains to distinguish between people as individuals who "as they always do, helped a lot" and governments which "determined that, yes,…Sudan was conducting a genocide…but did not do too much else." He also notes how America's behavior at Guantánamo and Abu Ghraib gives license to the al-Bashir government to do the same, and that China's willingness to turn a blind eye as long as it gets oil props up the government forces.

If the book has a flaw, it's in some uneven pacing. I felt the sections on village relocation and the refugee camps went by too quickly, while the section on his torture seemed to drag a bit…the latter, most likely, because there wasn't an adequate explanation of why government commanders would spend so much personal attention on a minor translator. However, these are minor flaws.

There's little deep analysis in this book but, if you're like me and relatively unfamiliar with the situation in Darfur, this is worth the read. show less