A new documentary about the alleged fake memoirist Norma Khouri is intriguing. How and why would someone write a fake memoir about honor killing? What then makes this book a huge success? Historian Thérèse Taylor talks to filmmaker Anna Broinowski.
"Forbidden Lie$”, a new documentary film by Australian, Anna Broinowski, gives a fresh look at the Middle East, and the industry of lies which has been created for Western audiences.
Stories about the tragic oppression of veiled Arab women have a big market.
The books sell better if they are “real” — if they are presented as memoirs from authentic people, not novels by professional writers. But often books sold as life stories turn out to be entirely imaginary. One of the most stunning cases of this is “Forbidden Love”.
Norma Khouri presented herself as a Jordanian woman whose best friend had been the victim of an honor killing. Her memoir, “Forbidden Love”, rode high on the international market in 2003.
Khouri soulfully entertained crowds of readers who were appalled and enthralled by the story of Dalia, a Muslim virgin whose throat was cut by her own father, for the “crime” of wanting to marry a Christian man.
Jordanian feminists denounced “Forbidden Love” as a distasteful and obvious fraud, but they found that no one listened to them. Khouri was then brought down with a crash in 2004, when Malcolm Knox, literary editor of the Sydney Morning Herald published an article showing that she was an American of Jordanian parentage, and had fled her homeland ahead of an FBI investigation for financial fraud.
So what happened then?
The appeal of “Forbidden Lie$” is that this film shows how a lie is told, how it is believed and how it is debunked.
Khouri continues to maintain that the tale is true, although saying that certain details were fictionalized in order to protect individuals involved. Anna Broinowski takes Khouri to Jordan, and they whirl through Amman and Aqaba, encountering Jordanians and interviewing the real people who work to oppose real honor killings. The contrast between these people and the performer Khouri is devastating.
“Forbidden Lie$” also gives space to the Jordanian feminists who knew from the very beginning that “Forbidden Love” was a fake.
Rana Husseini, the leading campaigner against honor killings is interviewed. Amal Sabbagh, a highly placed Jordanian woman who promotes human rights, and who tried in vain to get a serious response from Khouri’s publishers, also expresses her concerns. The Jordanian women fill the screen with their energetic presence.
The film also gives a subtle and different view of the city of Amman. It is an affectionate view, which allows for details. People who know and like Amman will recognize the city in this film — in a way that they often cannot do when viewing news broadcasts.
The film then shifts to the United States, to where Khouri really grew up (rather than where she implied she grew up): In working-class Chicago. The film devotes some time to addressing domestic abuse in an American urban city, a sub-story of abusive family relationships and various types of exploitation and crimes. Here, perhaps, are the wrongs that inspired Khouri to speak to the world. But is she a victim or perpetrator? Is she, as several individuals strongly state, entirely untrustworthy and evil?
Broinowski says that she soon discovered that Khouri’s stories about threats to herself in Jordan were merely rhetoric. The view in this film is not that of an insider in the Middle East, but rather a re-appraisal of fictionalizing the Middle East. Khouri’s own life started with few advantages and Broinowski reflects on that, mentioning that Khouri received an advance of a million dollars, that’s just the advance, straight out, before royalties.
One can see a motive, there, which is quite separate from the desire to do good. And the documentary shows how Khouri, despite having access to considerable financial resources, took money from well-meaning people who were dazzled by her appeal and her fake memoir.
Aside from the secrets of Khouri’s own life, there has always been a conspiracy theory about “Forbidden Love”. This is lightly touched on, when it is noted that prominent American political figures were forwarding the book. Also, as Rana Husseini says, “Forbidden Love” was launched with an organized marketing campaign, which no text by an Arab woman would ever get.
The film adds an intriguing detail to this picture. By careful research, Broinowski shows how it is inexplicable that Khouri avoided arrest on serious fraud charges; she seems to be a special case in the eyes of the FBI.
What is really going on here? Why was a woman with such a shady past given Australian residency, promoted by people in the US State Department, and given the fast track to literary stardom? Is it a coincidence that all this happened when the US was promoting its right to invade Iraq?
“Forbidden Lie$” does not enter into this, as it maintains a focus on Khouri as an individual. However, anyone who views it will go away wondering about who really stood behind Khouri.
Performer, liar and con artist, Khouri was, briefly, the favorite Arab woman of our time. “Forbidden Lie$” shows us the very figure of fantasy — the ideal humanitarian case, the woman whom every Westerner wanted to rush over and rescue. Unfortunately, they could not do so — because she did not really exist.
