If you want proof that any book with the words ‘jihad’ or ‘Islamic State,’ on its cover will sell, this is it. In the Skin of a Jihadist, for all its claim of taking the reader “inside [the] recruitment networks” of the militant Islamic State group (IS), no more than scratches the surface of its subject, which is of intense interest these days.

The basic facts are these: a young French journalist takes on what one would imagine would be the most challenging and dangerous assignment of her career — explore how IS brainwashes young Europeans into joining its ranks, and does so by going undercover on social media and posing as a potential recruit. However, her alias, Mélodie, attracts the attention of a prominent IS fighter, Abu Bilel, who woos her as a potential wife. In the end, when she doesn’t follow through with his plans for her to come to Syria, his murderous rage knows no bounds. Even the name of the writer — Anna Erelle — is an alias, because penning the account prompted a fatwa against her by her one-time suitor and made her the target of jihadists keen to avenge the public humiliation caused by the exposé.

It’s the kind of stuff that should make for a gripping, read-in-one-sitting page-turner. Instead, In the Skin of a Jihadist can, in a nutshell, be described as Mills and Boon meets Desert Romance — smouldering, kohl-lined eyes (his, not hers) et al.

A young French woman goes undercover on social media to investigate how IS brainwashes young Europeans into joining its ranks

With the narrative in the hands of a rather juvenile writer we encounter clunkers such as: “It made me so angry I wanted to punch him.” Or, “I was dumbstruck by his rigid thinking, bad faith, and blind judgements”. Then there are unwittingly comic observations, for example, “Bilel was an evil genie.” Clearly, the writer is infatuated with the premise of her assignment without possessing the in-depth knowledge of her subject that would have precluded the wide-eyed innocence with which she approaches it.

Fortunately for readers, if not for reviewers who are expected to soldier through even tiresome books to the very end to do justice to their assignment, Erelle gives early enough warning that she isn’t much older than her 20-year-old avatar, Mélodie. “Coke is my morning coffee; I still haven’t learned to drink grown-up beverages at their designated times,” she reveals artlessly. And if anyone has any remaining doubts, she informs us that Mélodie’s online profile picture is that of Princess Jasmine, the character from the Disney animated movie Aladin.

Nonetheless, some real nuggets of information can be culled from the breathless naiveté. Some of these emerge from the Skype conversations between Mélodie and Bilel. We learn for instance that there are three types of fighters: “those on the front, those who become suicide bombers, and those who return to France to punish the infidels” — prescient words in light of the massacre that occurred in Paris on Nov 13, 2015.

However, her alias, Mélodie, attracts the attention of a prominent IS fighter, Abu Bilel, who woos her as a potential wife. In the end, when she doesn’t follow through with his plans for her to come to Syria, his murderous rage knows no bounds.

There are also interesting personal details that Bilel offers about his long-distance travels in a jeep packed with guns and, of all things, bottles of chocolate milk. We also discover more about his early life and how he rose up the ranks as an IS fighter, including the fact that French police had kept an eye on him because he often travelled to Pakistan — described entirely inaccurately as “a country overrun by Al Qaeda”. Bilel, it turns out, is the French fighter closest to Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi, the leader of IS.

His silver-tongued des­criptions of the utopian life that awaits Mélodie if she joins him in Syria have the tenor of a practiced manipulator spinning a web around its prey, and they are chilling. (Also, religious pontification notwithstanding, his conversations are laced with sexual innuendo of a stalker-ish variety such as, “Do you like pretty lingerie, baby?”). There is no dearth of accounts of young women — even bright, accomplished young women — being lured online into abandoning their families and vanishing into the dark embrace of IS.

There are telling snippets about converts who have joined IS, and who tend towards a more hardline adherence to their new faith. “[Y]ou European converts are insane. As soon as you arrive, you want a Kalashnikov and a chance to use it!” says Bilel during one conversation. In response to Mélodie’s question whether there are other Frenchwomen there, he responds: “Tons ... And I swear, they’re almost worse than us. These days, they’re obsessed with explosive belts.”

This book may well spring from a spirit of inquiry; the story it narrates was certainly driven by the reckless sort of courage that a truly intrepid reporter will recognise. However, it is badly let down by its gauche style of writing and facile worldview. One can only suppose that the ‘sexiness’ of the subject trumped considerations of quality and merit.

The reviewer is a Dawn staff member.

In the Skin of a Jihadist
(TERRORISM)
By Anna Erella
Harper Paperbacks, US
ISBN 978-0062417077
240pp.