Conversation with a war-zone journalist
Troubled times on a troubled subcontinent
IN THE WAKE OF THE MURDER of reporter Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, Sentinel Radio managing editor Russ Gerber spoke with Christian Science Monitor South Asian correspondent Scott Baldauf.
The brutality of war strongly suggests that evil is inevitable and just about everywhere. How are you able to report on atrocities, or tough situations, and still maintain your own conviction that God was there?
It can be very difficult, of course, to see the pain of people when we come into an are where, for instance, there may have been a bombing, and civilians have been killed, or you [meet] with refugees who've been forced out and have encountered hateful actions against them. It does bring out not just compassion, but it really forces you to say, "Now, wait a minute! Is this what is really part of the creation that I understand [exists]?" God created the world, created His children in His own "image and likeness," and that image and likeness is good.
If [what I see] doesn't match that seems to be separate from that, then the only implication that you can draw is that either what I'm seeing is not true about God and His creation and His children, or that there is another creation out there. I can't accept that latter possibility. So that forces me to dig deeper and to see evidence of the real creation in front of me. And, in many cases, that comes out in very odd ways.
I've been in areas where there was a great deal of hostility toward members of the press because we were Americans. We were arriving at an area where American bombing had taken place, and oftentimes people would address us as if we were representatives of this nation that had just bombed them. But, at the same time, there was a bit of engagement with us. In many cases, they wanted to talk more deeply about the issues. They wanted to convince us that they were right. And that overcame anger or frustration, because they naturally wanted what was good for all, in this case.
These days, war zones aren't necessarily battlefields where opposing armies fight. They're often city streets or sidewalk cafes or perhaps packages in the mail. How do you, as reporter, deal with evil when it seems so often to blend into everyday life?
Well, that very subtlety of it does put you on your guard, but we need to be on our guard, guarding our thought, regardless [of appearances]. I often find that when I am in the middle of an assignment, and I'm in area that technically is fairly dangerous—say, when I was in Jalalabad, [Afghanistan], an area that had just been restored to peace after the fall of the Taliban . . ., there were still disputes, and various warlords wanted to have power over that particular district—yet, all it really took was to recognize that there was only one God, only one law at work. That [law] applied to me, applied to each of these soldiers who were around us, and that had a calming effect on my thought. And I feel certain that it helped create a greater calm among the people I encountered along the way, thereby taking away any fears they may have had of what was happening around them.
Even on the streets of Pakistan, where there were some fairly violent demonstrations, all of us reporters felt that the people who were burning effigies of American leaders, who were calling for "death to America," were really looking for a way to keep the attention focused on their needs. In deeper conversation with them, they would say, "Look, we don't want anyone to be killed. We have families. We have children. We are angry because we feel those children are threatened. But we know that there are good people in your country, and there are good people out there. We would like all children to live in peace." They just could not see a way to reach that peace without demonstrating and, in some cases, without taking some form of violent action.
In his tribute to murdered Wall Street Journal correspondent Daniel Pearl, your colleague on The Christian Science Monitor, Scott Peterson, wrote of the "tears we shed not only for Pearl's family but also for" what he called "a vulnerability we journalists feel, now laid bare." How do you deal with this feeling of vulnerability?
I deal with it by recognizing that my protection never came from a false sense of protection. Never came from a false sense of peace. But rather, it's something very lasting that protects me, whether I am at a restaurant, crossing the street in New York City, [or] back home with my family. It is the same protection that guides me there, because it is the same God that protects me always. That said, as a journalist, you need to be wise in what you do, and not take unnecessary risks.
I think about Jesus being tempted to cast himself off the mountaintop. He recognized clearly that his demonstration of the Christ did not have to be tested by doing something that would not necessarily serve anybody's purpose. So it's a mixture of wisdom and the recognition that no matter what I'm doing, if God is guiding me, He's protecting me as well.
You work with sources for stories, interpreters, drivers, all sorts of people. What helps you detect good or evil intentions?
Good question. I'd have to say good intention is something that matches very closely with what Mary Baker Eddy set out to do when she set up The Christian Science Monitor. Its good intentions were to bring to light issues that were of importance to people—without taking advantage of the often-sensational nature of problems. [The Monitor;s aim] is to focus on solutions, on the good that's inherent in people.
And a lot of times, you'll just know whether something is not wise. For instance, back in November before the Taliban fell, I came across an individual who promised that he could take me into Afghanistan on a tour of Taliban-controlled areas, and this fellow would do it obviously for a price. The more I looked into it, when he took me to meet with some of his Taliban sources, it became clear the reason they were doing this was for money. It wasn't necessarily to enlighten people to the suffering of people in war-torn Afghanistan. It wasn't to try and bring light to issues or to explain the politics of the scene. It was merely to make money. I realized quickly that someone who's willing to betray his country (it was illegal to bring a journalist in at that time) obviously would be willing to betray me as well. So these things become quite clear when you start to sound out the motives and what it is that [someone] hopes to gain.
Have there been times when you felt the effect of people's prayers—maybe from readers you don't even know?
You do, definitely, feel that. There have been times when I've been with other reporters, and we've been in areas that at first seemed quite safe, and, as time went on, it became clear that we needed to leave quickly. At those times, there was a definite sense of calm that I felt during that decisionmaking process of [asking], "What do we do next? Where's the escape route? How can we move to some safer place?" And [I've also felt that calm in] knowing that there was the common-sense belief in an all-powerful and good God who was providing safety for all mankind. Not just for us journalists, but also for the Afghans on the ground, and even for the combatants. That feeling really helped to ease the concern.
Religion plays such a significant role in the conflicts that you're covering. Do you find your own beliefs challenged or enriched by the religious dimensions that you encounter?
A little bit of both. The when one feels challenged usually force you to clarify things that may not have made sense. The reason why it didn't make sense is that it had not been fully thought out. That kind of challenge, though, can only be for the good. You come out of it with a stronger sense of what it is that God means to you, and the sense of [God's] protection that you feel when you're in a situation.
And then on the other side, I feel that [the religious dimension] actually does enrich. Oftentimes, by covering these kinds of conflicts, I have an occasion to [ask] someone, What are the beliefs of Islam? Of Hinduism? Of Buddhism? That often brings you to the point where you see ideas that are very close to your own. That commonality brings you back to the sense that there is one God, that there is one plan, and that God is giving answers to each of us, in ways that we can accept them, and ways in which we can feel helped by them.
Scott, what inspires you to keep going, even be hopeful at times, as a journalist, especially when sometimes it looks like a no-win situation?
Well, that is something we all have to keep striving for. One of the things that I didn't count on when I came out here was how challenging it would be. Obviously, no one expects a war to crop up in your backyard, in an area that you're supposedly responsible for covering. It does look very different, but in the end, it still involves the same misconception—that there is more than one God. That the God who created Osama bin Laden, or Mullah Omar, or the man who is accused of kidnapping Daniel Pearl, that this God could, by nature, be any different from the God who created me, or other people who are close to me. That is a lie. God created each of His children and created each one perfect. And you do really need to dig in and cast out of your mind any notion that God has created a different set of rules, created some folk who are angry and inconsolable and bent on destroying others.
That same sense of "one creation" was very important to me when I was covering the Gujarat earthquake just one year ago last month. The destruction really was a challenge to the very notion of a good and all-powerful God. And yet, coming out of that and seeing the charitableness of people, the willingness to give—to set aside one's own personal needs and to look after one's neighbor—that was so powerful that it really did take away the darker side of that terrible tragedy.
I've just gotten started covering this region [South Asia], and it's been a very steep learning curve. I've had to address a lot of issues that I certainly never had to deal with back home in Texas. But at the same time, the lessons I've learned thus far are really helping firm up my sense that there is hope in these situations. There are solutions that not merely make me happy, or that make people in the country where I grew up happy, but rather, that simply are good for the children of God. I see these children of God everywhere I go. It's one of the most inspiring things to recognize, even in the times when things are a little dicey. And I know we're all children of God.