Let's take Holocaust movies as an example. There are so many of them that they almost form an independent genre. You might choose to watch "Schindler's List" instead of "13 Going on 30" to, as some might argue, bear witness. While this is laudable, I sometimes wonder if there's something more insidious going on. At times, the violence depicted is so excessive and shocking that the initially somber tone turns almost frenzied. For instance, in the French Holocaust movie "Elle s'appelle Sarah," the director includes a nearly ten-minute scene of people screaming. It was uncomfortable to watch, not because it jolted me out of my complacency, but because it felt like the director was exploiting a historical tragedy for shock value. The violence seems to be fetishized as the director presents all the lurid, gory details. The Holocaust movie can start to resemble a horror movie, with the added frisson of being based on real events.
This is just my theory, but it has introduced an ethical dilemma into my leisure reading. I purchased "We Would Like to Inform You" because I'm considering a career in human rights and thus should know more about the most egregious violations. However, when I read popular books about genocide, I'm concerned that the author might be providing unnecessary bloodshed merely to hold the reader's attention. In this case, the author is a young, white, Western journalist who only arrived in Rwanda after the genocide, which gives me even more reason to be skeptical. Fortunately, Phillip Gourevitch approaches the conflict with empathy, an awareness of his own outsider status, and a profound understanding of Africa.
"We Wish to Inform You" dedicates a significant portion of its pages to explaining the cultural and historical roots of the genocide, and only a few chapters to the killings themselves. Much of the book focuses on the aftermath of the conflict. Gourevitch criticizes Clinton and the UN for first failing to recognize the genocide and then inundating the complicit, exiled Hutus with international aid. There is, of course, violence described, but when the horror becomes too overwhelming, Gourevitch doesn't tell the story himself. Instead, he quotes the accounts of genocide survivors.
The book is nuanced and thoroughly researched. Gourevitch must have conducted hundreds of interviews, not only with survivors but also with confessed killers and bureaucrats from both Africa and the West. His anger at the international community is palpable, yet it's kept in check beneath the surface of his (at times, somewhat lackluster) prose. "We Wish to Inform You" accomplishes what a book about genocide should do; it tells both sides of the story and uncovers the complex cultural factors that had been simmering for centuries. Most importantly, it presents violence with contempt, not with a hidden sense of glee. It's the kind of human rights book that I would recommend not only to my Friday night Amnesty International group but also to the well-intentioned yet misinformed policy makers who bungled the Rwanda situation.