James Brabazon (2) (1972–)

Interesting account of a reporter from the UK who goes into the Liberian Civil War to make an ill-fated documentary (and loses funding, etc.). Lots of this was literally unbelievable except that it happened in Liberia, where everything seems to be utter insanity (people dressed up like comic book characters fighting each other, abject incompetence by fighters blowing themselves up with grenades, etc.). LURD vs. Charles Taylor; yet another of those weird African conflicts no one remembers.

One of the more interesting parts was that his bodyguard (the "Friend" in the title) was Nick du Toit, a South African mercenary with a lot of adventures. The last third was a decent account of du Toit's involvement in a failed coup in Equatorial Guinea, a conflict which was somehow entangled with Liberia (where the war ended too soon for du Toit to use those rebels to assist...), and which had a much worse outcome for the plotters. This actually seems like a fair/honest account of most of the conflict, and probably the best book about it that I've read so far.

Super exciting if surreal account of 90s/00s West African conflict bullshit.… (more)

Despicable People

This book is an homage to James Brabazon's friend, Nick Du Toit. Du Toit is a former member of a South African security force that worked to assassinate members of the African National Congress, whom Du Toit still refers to as "terrorists." Du Toit is a despicable man who worked hard to keep apartheid going and then worked hard to make money off the miseries of war, including an "adventure" in which he literally tried to overthrow an oil-wealthy foreign government.

The value of this book is in some of the descriptions of Liberia, where Du Toit took Brabazon to film scenes from the Civil War there. Brabazon sees this as an opportunity to advance his nascent career and he comes off as very narcissistic. Unfortunately, neither Brabazon nor Du Toit are likeable. They don't care about suffering Liberians. For example, they gladly allow the soldiers they are walking with to use porters like "slaves."

Some of the writing is just awful. The first paragraph reads, "The flames spouting from the soldiers' cigarette lighters burn the fat on the soles of his feet until it spits and crackles like a Sunday joint."… (more)