The corrupting nature of power
Writing The Ogress of Fez has forced me to think carefully about how power operates, how it corrupts. In Oum El Hassen’s world, her authority starts as a tool for survival, but as it goes unchecked, it becomes something else entirely, eroding not just her relationships but her sense of morality. Power, when it lacks accountability, transforms from a means of protection into a force that consumes everything in its path, including the person who wields it.
Michel Foucault’s work on power and its relationship to control feels particularly relevant here. Foucault argued that power does not just function through visible force, but through the systems and structures that shape behaviour and norms. In Oum’s case, her brothel becomes a closed system where she can exercise complete authority, and over time, this unchecked power allows cruelty to become routine. The structures that should have kept her power in check, whether they be social, moral, or legal, do not exist in her world. This allows her authority to expand unchecked, reflecting how systemic power operates in more insidious ways.
Hannah Arendt’s exploration of totalitarianism offers further insight into the dangers of normalised violence. In Arendt’s view, once power is allowed to function without limits, cruelty becomes mundane, something that can be carried out by ordinary people without the sense that they are doing anything wrong. Oum’s actions mirror this. The violence she inflicts becomes a part of her everyday existence, justified by the need to maintain control. In doing so, she loses her moral bearings, and the violence becomes just another part of the system she upholds.
These ideas do not just exist in fiction or theory. They play out in the world around us. Foucault’s concept of systemic power, Arendt’s warnings about normalised cruelty, and Nietzsche’s caution about the addictive nature of dominance all resonate in modern politics, corporate culture, and personal relationships. We have seen how unchecked authority leads to abuses, from police brutality to corporate exploitation. The structures of power reinforce themselves, stripping away accountability and allowing those in control to act with impunity.
Perhaps one of the most glaring examples of unchecked power playing out on the global stage today is Israel’s ongoing genocide in Gaza, with the United States providing unwavering backing. The impunity with which Israel has been able to operate, bombing civilians, killing women and children, and destroying infrastructure, is a clear reminder of how power can function without any real checks or consequences. The US’s financial and political support for Israel only solidifies this dynamic, allowing atrocities to continue without meaningful intervention from the international community. It is a system where power feeds itself, justifying its own violence under the guise of security, while the human cost is written off as collateral damage.
In writing The Ogress of Fez, I have come to realise that power unchecked, whether on a small or global scale, follows similar patterns. Oum’s brothel becomes a microcosm of the same dynamics we see in conflicts like Gaza, where the powerful, with no one to challenge their authority, enact violence with no end in sight. The structures meant to hold them accountable, whether international law or moral responsibility, are too weak or too complicit to intervene. What follows is a cycle of domination, cruelty, and impunity.
Friedrich Nietzsche warned that power, when left unchecked, becomes addictive. It pushes individuals to seek more control, more dominance, even as they lose sight of their humanity. This is reflected not just in Oum’s descent into violence, but in the way state power functions in conflicts like Gaza. The longer power is left unchallenged, the more it warps into something self-justifying, something that perpetuates cruelty under the guise of necessity.
Oum’s story is, in many ways, a reflection of these broader ideas. Her authority grows, her violence escalates, and without anyone to stop her, she becomes a figure of cruelty rather than protection. Writing her character has forced me to confront these dynamics of unchecked power in the real world. It is a reminder that without accountability, power becomes dangerous, whether in a brothel in Fez or on the global political stage.
Through The Ogress of Fez, I explore these themes of authority, violence, and moral decay, but they are not confined to the past. The patterns of unchecked power continue to play out today, and the consequences remain devastating.