Love Extraordinary Justice? Readers share 51 books like Extraordinary Justice...

Frankl, de Tocqueville, Love, and Tocquigny focus on affirmative action, success, meaning, and purpose, and Arendt provides a sobering reflection on the alternative. After observing the greatest horror the world has produced, she concludes much of the wickedness in the world is created by people in the neutral zone, people with no allegiance to good or evil, people who “just let it happen.”

What happens when we don’t choose but are content to let others choose for us when we deny our “response-ability.”  Who is responsible when no one is responsible?

Reed Brody, a lawyer for Human Rights Watch, was one of the key actors in bringing former Chadian dictator Hissene Habré to justice for torture, rape, and mass murder he committed during the 1980s. The book chronicles the twists and turns, over almost two decades, of efforts to bring Habré to trial. That finally happened in 2018, in a specially-created African Union-backed court based in Senegal. The book celebrates the central role of victims in bringing Habré to justice, and tells an engaging and readable story from an insider’s perspective. It shows the creativity of the victims and lawyers in combining different legal forums and political and media pressure, but also the limits, and personal sacrifices, that victory required. 

Slobodan Milosevic’s trial by the first post-Cold War international court, the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia, required the creation of a whole new court and set of procedures, and established many of the current rules on trying war crimes and crimes against humanity. There’s a lot written on the ICTY, but I like Scharf’s book because he tells the backstories, explains the different choices that the court could have made, and makes for a fascinating read.

Operation Condor is the coordination that occurred between military governments across borders in South America during the Cold War to repress those suspected of being subversives. Some fled their home countries, only to be apprehended, tortured, and sometimes killed by a neighboring regime.

As difficult as it has been to try those involved in national crimes, it has been even more challenging to do so in these legally complex cases that span numerous jurisdictions. Lessa, however, has been following these accountability efforts for over a decade, and writes a fantastic book about these battles, shedding light on not only the events that occurred but also the struggle to document them and have accountability for victims. 

I loved Vaddey Ratner’s debut novel, which offers another heart-wrenching child’s-eye view of life under the Khmer Rouge. Raami, her seven-year-old protagonist, is marched out of Phnom Penh in April 1975 with her family, who is of royal stock and, therefore, in extreme peril.

Raami details the horror and cruelty she endures as the regime becomes ever more paranoid and murderous. She fights to retain vestiges of her earlier self, recalling her favorite myths and tales from Cambodian folklore—in this, I saw a parallel with how Chantha turns to her food memories and recipes to remember who she was before the disasters began. Ratner, a Khmer Rouge survivor, writes beautifully of endurance, survival, and hope amidst horror, and like Ung, she’s an important voice for Cambodian survivors, the conscience of a generation. 

Between 1975 and 1979, the Khmer Rouge communist-ruled Cambodia and drove its population onto rural communes where millions perished from murder and malnutrition. Countless well-researched books have been written on the subject. The Lost Executioner stands out for the commitment of its author. For years, photographer Nic Dunlop carried a photograph of Comrade Duch in his pocket as he traveled through post-war Cambodia, trying to understand the horrors inflicted on its population until he came face to face to face with the head of the Khmer Rouge secret police who was responsible for some 20.000 deaths. The Lost Executioner not only dissects the horror of recent Cambodian politics but also asks pertinent questions about the role of journalists in conflict zones.

Ghost Money is a gripping thriller set in late 90s Cambodia, as the country lurches violently out of its long-running civil war. Vietnamese-Australian ex-cop Max Quinlan has been hired to find businessmen Charles Avery who has disappeared in the chaos. Teaming up with a Cambodian journalist, Quinlan leaves the freewheeling capital Phnom Penh to the battle-scarred border to Thailand. As the political temperature soars, Quinlan is slowly drawn into a mystery that reaches back into Cambodia's bloody history. Ghost Money is a story about what happens to people trapped between the past and the present, the choices they make, and what they do to survive.

Books on Cambodia predominantly cover the communist revolution and genocide. Carrying Cambodia is a different proposition, a photo book that depicts the resourcefulness of ordinary Cambodians in the post-war era. The two authors/photographers spent considerable time on the back of motorbikes cruising the highways and by-ways of Cambodia to capture the incredible efforts its people have to make to get from A to B. Images of trucks, bikes, tuk-tuks, and cyclos unbelievably overloaded with people and produce give a candid impression of the daily struggle of citizens living in unjust, broken societies, but also celebrates a resurging Khmer spirit in the face of incredible challenges.

Loung Ung’s harrowing memoir was the first of many Khmer Rouge survivor accounts I read, and it’s perhaps the most widely read KR memoir; it’s also been adapted by Angelina Jolie and Netflix into a stunning feature film.

Ung’s writing is simple and lyrical, and she captures her own childhood voice to heartbreaking effect as she recalls her family’s destruction at the hands of the Khmer Rouge, who seized power when she was five years old.

Ung has an astonishing ability to find humanity and hope amidst the worst horrors imaginable—a trait that Chantha shares and expresses in her sumptuous cooking, her nonprofit work with rural Cambodian women, and her dogged pursuit of a beautiful life. 

To understand Cambodia, I needed to taste its flavors. Nhum (which means “eat” in Khmer) was a great way for me to learn more about Khmer cuisine between trips to Cambodia. Nhum is a beautifully designed cookbook—and it’s a historical document meant to help preserve Cambodian foodways, which were nearly wiped out by the Khmer Rouge’s campaign of murder, starvation, and cultural erasure.

Rotanak—known as “Chef Nak” to her fans—has become a celebrity in Cambodia, with two Cambodian cookbooks, a homestay/cooking lesson business in Phnom Penh, and a social media video series featuring her traveling the countryside, asking elders to share their recipes. The “Ingredients” section alone is a masterclass on what you’ll find in Cambodian gardens, pantries, and kitchens and how and why to use it.

Chantha and I met and cooked with Chef Nak a few years ago, and we admire her work preserving traditional recipes. I hope… show more.