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On All Fronts: The Education of a Journalist Paperback – September 7, 2021
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The recipient of multiple Peabody and Murrow awards, Clarissa Ward is a world-renowned conflict reporter. In this strange age of crisis where there really is no front line, she has moved from one hot zone to the next. With multiple assignments in Syria, Gaza, Ukraine, and Afghanistan, Ward, who speaks seven languages, has been based in Baghdad, Beirut, Beijing, and Moscow. She has seen and documented the violent remaking of the world at close range. With her deep empathy, Ward finds a way to tell the hardest stories. On All Fronts is the riveting account of Ward’s singular career and of journalism in this age of extremism.
Following a privileged but lonely childhood, Ward found her calling as an international war correspondent in the aftermath of 9/11. From her early days in the field, she was embedding with marines at the height of the Iraq War and reporting from the center of Israel’s war with Hezbollah. Soon she was soon on assignment all over the globe. From her multiple stints entrenched with Syrian rebels to her deep investigations into the Western extremists who are drawn to ISIS, Ward covered Bashar al-Assad’s reign of terror without fear and with courage and compassion. In 2018, Ward rose to new heights at CNN and became a mother. Suddenly, she was doing this hardest of jobs with a whole new perspective.
On All Fronts is the unforgettable story of one extraordinary journalist—and of a changing world.
- Print length352 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherPenguin Books
- Publication dateSeptember 7, 2021
- Dimensions5.5 x 0.8 x 8.4 inches
- ISBN-100525561498
- ISBN-13978-0525561491
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Review
“In On All Fronts, [Ward] combines grace, authority, and a humor so dry it evaporates on contact. Whether Ward is fending off the dissolute, lecherous Saif Gadhafi, son of the brutal former Libyan dictator Moammar Gadhafi, in a Moscow Mercedes, or confronting a jihadist leader with video evidence of an execution carried out by his men, she gives off the impression that the story is, above all personal considerations, sacrosanct . . . Ward shows an enduring faith in the power of reporting.” —Annalisa Quinn, NPR
“A candid, heart-pounding look into [Ward’s] life as a war correspondent . . . it’s how she tells the stories of the people on the inside, especially the children, that will stay with you. I walked away astounded by the bravery of this woman.” —Jill Hazelbaker, SVP of Public Affairs and Marketing at Uber, Bloomberg
“Ward’s journalism skills shine, putting readers on the front lines. Readers interested in the life stories of intrepid women journalists and the nature of investigative, international journalism will be captivated by this engrossing account.” —Library Journal
“[Ward’s] descriptions of her experiences at all the sites are vivid and precise . . . A thoughtful account of the excitement and pitfalls of war reporting.” —Kirkus
“Ward details her often harrowing career in this page-turning memoir . . . Readers will come away with at least a basic understanding of multiple international conflicts. This is a wonderful addition to the list of recent titles about women working in war-torn lands.” —Booklist
“Ward, CNN’s chief international correspondent, recounts her life in journalism in this insightful memoir . . . She details her often harrowing experiences that eventually took a toll on her physical and mental well-being . . . But it’s the connections she made with the civilians that really tell the story of these war-torn regions and demonstrate an empathy that makes Ward’s work so accessible . . . Ward surprises in this affecting insider view of international reporting.” —Publishers Weekly
“On All Fronts is funny, fascinating, heart-breaking and heroic. Clarissa Ward doesn’t just take us to the front lines of the world’s most dangerous places, revealing the pain and pleasure of being a foreign correspondent, she gives us a startling, and often hilarious look, at her own unconventional, almost unimaginable childhood. How did a continent-hopping Eloise, who was banished at ten to a dismal British boarding school, wind up in Beijing as a stand-in for Uma Thurman on a Quentin Tarantino film, and then break into the news business and become one of the great foreign correspondents of our time? Read on . . . Ward has an extraordinary tale to tell.” —Anderson Cooper, author of Dispatches from the Edge
“On All Fronts takes the reader on a riveting journey of storytelling as Ward crisscrosses the globe in a relentless quest to become the acclaimed Chief International Correspondent she is today. From Russia to China to Syria, the reader watches her navigate the most intense of human experiences while finding the tools to stay emotional.” —Lynsey Addario, author of It’s What I Do
“Clarissa Ward takes us on an page-turning ride through natural disasters and debaucheries; the terror and grief of war zones and the grace notes of motherhood. On All Fronts traces the formation of one of our generation’s most dynamic foreign correspondents, and gives us an intimate view of the failures and tragedies of the conflicts that are reshaping our world.” —Megan K. Stack, author of Women’s Work and Every Man In This Village Is A Liar
“There has never been a more vital time for journalists who bear witness to crimes against humanity and violations of international law, to have a voice to tell the stories of those who can not tell their one. Clarissa Ward is a reporter I have always admired—for her courage but also her clarity and her willingness to take risks to bring sometimes uncomfortable truths to light. Her memoir is a reporter's story—with all the grit and frustration and triumphs—but also a universal story of a tenacious young woman working in a hardscrabble profession who paved her own way with sheer hard work and a vision. Ward has reported diligently from many war zones, but her work in Syria will go down as a historical record of a country that the international community allowed to bleed. Everyone with a conscience should read this book.” —Janine di Giovanni, author of The Morning They Came for Us
“War correspondents have long been caricatured as vain figures of parachutist self-glory. Clarissa Ward, for all of her onscreen unflappability, has risked this investigative memoir to reveal herself as a reporter of rare modesty in her courage, rare empathy in her diligence, and rare reflection in her daring. This is a poignant and vigorous self-portrait of a journalist graced and burdened with a supreme sense of duty.” —Gideon Lewis Kraus, author of A Sense of Direction
“An honest, candid portrayal of the making of a journalist and the stories behind getting the story. With great empathy, Ward shows us what her viewers don’t see—the logistical, physical and emotional challenges of going to the toughest places—and the toll it takes. A timely reminder of the importance of bearing witness, and why there is no substitute for gutsy on-the-ground journalism.” —Rania Abouzeid, author of No Turning Back. Life, Loss, And Hope In Wartime Syria
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
I was on my own in Damascus on my first assignment as a correspondent for CBS News. As a dual citizen with a UK passport, I had managed to obtain a tourist visa, but my producer had not. And I had no camera- man. I had little experience shooting video and did not underestimate the risks of embarking on such an assignment. A journalist traveling alone could easily be disappeared. But I’d been to Syria many times before, spoke enough Arabic to get around on my own, and was desperate to cover the fast-expanding Syrian uprising, which was reaching a boiling point by that fall of 2011.
Opposition activists had brought me to the sprawling suburb of Douma to cover the funeral. I had been in Damascus for a few days before I had managed to slip away from my hotel and the ever-present secret police to link up with them.
Hundreds of people now poured in from all directions. The women marched together at the back of the procession. Rows and rows of them waved banners with slogans demanding justice and the overthrow of the regime of Bashar al-Assad. Someone started beating a drum, and the crowd hoisted a boy onto a man’s shoulders so that he could lead the chant. “Oh, Bashar, you liar,” he chanted, “to hell with you and your speech. Freedom is at the door.” “Yalla irhal, ya Bashar,” the crowd chanted, clapping rhythmically. “Get out, Bashar!” The chant had become the anthem of the revolution, a revolution gathering strength in the suburbs of Damascus and in Homs and in Hama—and posing a genuine threat to Assad’s rule. I looked over the sea of people, cheering and chanting, hands with cell phones raised in the air to capture the protest and beam it out on social media. The crisp November air crackled with the energy and excitement of their voices.
Emboldened by their own daring, they grew louder and louder, the clapping thunderous. My foot tapped along with the beat. It was electrifying.
“Bashar, screw you and screw those who salute you.”These protesters had been waiting for their moment since the Arab Spring unfolded earlier that year—knocking over decades-old dictator- ships in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya. At the time, Assad had told the Wall Street Journal: “This is the Middle East, where every week you have something new.” But he had confidently predicted that the maelstrom would not affect his country. Instead, it would spur reform. He would turn out to be spectacularly wrong on both counts.
On March 6, 2011, a group of teenage boys, inspired by the wave of protests spreading across the region, had been arrested for spray-painting As‑Sha’ab yurid isqat an‑nizam! (The people want the downfall of the regime!) on walls in Dara’a, a rundown farming town near the Jordanian border. It was the rallying cry of the revolutions in Egypt and Libya and it brought swift retaliation from local security forces. When the boys were released two weeks later, alive but brutalized, their angry families marched on the governor’s house to demand justice. They were met with a hail of bullets. Three protesters were killed. And an uprising was born. By now a pattern had emerged. The funeral of someone murdered by the regime would then turn into a protest against the regime. Security forces would flood in and open fire, and then the next day there would be an even larger funeral. By that November, there were dozens of such fu- nerals across Syria every day.
I watched the crowd as they chanted “hurriya, hurriya” (freedom, freedom) over and over. They waved banners calling for a no-fly zone to prevent Assad from murdering his people. They had seen Western jets save Libyans in Benghazi from Qaddafi’s advancing forces months earlier and they believed that the West would do the same for them. How bitterly disappointed they would be.
In that moment, though, I felt giddy with a mixture of excitement and fear. Rallies like these were often targeted by pro-Assad militias, infa- mous for their thuggish cruelty. Known as shabiha, derived from the Ara- bic word for ghosts, these men wore street clothes and seemingly appeared out of thin air. People lived in fear of them, not just because of the brutal beatings they administered, but because they acted as informants, telling the regime which families were involved with the protest movement. Un- like the military, you never knew if the shabiha were there or not. Under these circumstances, talking to a Western reporter could be a death sentence. And yet here in Douma, as soon as people saw that I was a journalist, they wanted to tell their story. I marveled at their bravery.
One man had stopped me in the street as I walked past with my camera. He spoke some English and so I stopped to record an interview. “Please,” he implored, “this is the real Syria.” His voice quivered with emotion. “If you come you will see real bodies. They are not stones, they are not toys. They are real bodies.” A group ushered me over to the small graveyard designated for those who had been killed in the uprising. They were called shuhada, or martyrs, and there were about sixty of them buried in neat rows. A photograph of a young boy smiled out from one of the headstones. I thought of the man’s words—“they are not toys.” Each shaheed (singular for martyr) left behind the grieving. The day before the funeral, I had been introduced to a tailor who sat on a stool and wept quietly, his eyes fixed on the ground, as he told me about his son’s death. He spoke so softly that I strained to hear the details. His son had attended a protest at his university. Security forces arrived. Bullets were fired. His son . . . He stopped speaking and his body shook softly with sobs. I watched his hands, fidgeting constantly with fear and grief. I wanted to take them in mine and hold them, to put down the camera for a minute and be a human being. But I knew the only way I could help him was to make sure that people heard his story. I prompted him to keep going, “Wa ba’dayn? And then?”
His son was shot in the stomach on the university steps, he went on. The hospital didn’t want to treat him because they feared punishment from government forces. He bled to death. The man’s voice cracked. It was excruciating but I held the shot, held the pause as he wiped his eyes.
It had taken me weeks of research and Skype calls to connect with the Syrian opposition, which by the end of 2011 was being relent- lessly harried by the regime. Many activists had already been thrown in jails or simply disappeared; stories of terrible abuse and torture were be- ginning to circulate.For the first few days I had played the role of tourist, which is what my visa insisted I must be. Then, one morning, I had put on a headscarf, or hijab, and slipped out of the hotel—away from the watchful gaze of the chain-smoking secret policemen. With my blonde hair hidden away, I was suddenly invisible. The difference from the previous days, when everyone seemed to be staring at me, this foreigner, was incredible. I would often wear the hijab on subsequent assignments in Syria. From a security stance, it lowered my profile significantly. But it also allowed me to stand on the sidelines quietly and take in a scene as it was unfolding instead of be- coming its focus. It’s never easy as a television reporter, because carrying a camera inevitably attracts attention. Anything I could do to minimize the distraction of my presence was a plus.
I was careful to ensure I wasn’t being followed as I meandered through the streets of the Syrian capital on my way to meet an activist called Hussein. We had been introduced through another Syrian activist online who acted as a coordinator in Damascus. The night before we had stayed up late on Skype, discussing where and when to meet. I agreed I would come and find him at Bab Touma, one of the seven entrances to the old city, the following morning at eight o’clock. For the next five days, I would stay with him. Hussein’s face was round and smiling, with a permanent five-o’clock shadow, and he wore the same sweatpants and plastic sandals every day. He looked like a college student who had pulled one too many all-nighters. He shared his small courtyard house in the old city with a litter of white kittens that climbed over him as we chatted and kneaded their paws on the sofas noisily.
Like many of the activists I would meet that week, Hussein was giddy with the excitement of being part of a revolution. In the evenings, he would take me to meet up with his friends in their apartments. For the most part, they were educated and urbane, a mix of Sunni Muslims, Christians, and Alawites. Later on, the uprising would take on a distinctly Islamist hue, but these were the heady early days that burned with ideal- ism. I would sit with them and watch as they smoked cigarette after ciga- rette and talked late into the night about what their revolution would look like. They spoke with passion about freedom and democracy and human rights and yet, even then, you could sense that they had little understand- ing of or exposure to the foundations and institutions needed to build and nurture these ideals. Hussein introduced me to Razan Zaitouneh, a central figure in the protest movement. She was pale and tall and slim with long, wavy, mouse- colored hair and watery blue eyes and a gap between her front teeth. She chain-smoked when she talked and she rarely smiled. Razan was in a dif- ferent league from Hussein and his friends. She was a human rights lawyer and had been an activist in Syria for years before the Arab Spring began. She spoke with a blunt confidence and she was savvy enough to know how real the risks were. The Syrian regime had been tracking her move- ments for some time and she was now living in hiding to avoid arrest.
“Are you scared?” I asked her one day as we drank tea together in Hussein’s apartment.
“Who is not?” she replied matter-of-factly, taking a deep drag of her cigarette. She stroked one of the kittens absentmindedly as she talked. “But we have to continue. We decided to start our revolution. This is what we have been dreaming of from a long time ago.”
She looked up at me as she stubbed her cigarette out. “Yalla [Come on], let’s go.”
Razan and Hussein had taken me to the funeral in Douma and to the protests that were becoming more and more common on Fridays, the Muslim holy day. Often, the demonstrations would begin seemingly out of nowhere, like a flash mob. A chant would start and a crowd would form, only to melt away again just as quickly, their point made: “We are here and we won’t be cowed.”
One afternoon, they took me to meet a network of doctors who set up underground field clinics to treat those wounded in the protests. We climbed through a hidden passage in the wall that led to a stockpile of medical equipment. Bandages, antibiotics, syringes, and, most ominously, skin staplers.
The courage and determination of the opposition, which at this stage eschewed violence despite the brutality meted out by the regime, were in- spiring. At a demonstration late one night in a Damascus suburb, two young women, their faces covered, sidled up next to me and handed me a note. The handwriting was neat and childish. They had drawn the flag of the Syrian revolution in ballpoint pen at the top left-hand corner of the paper. It said simply, “We don’t shed tears for the martyrs, we shed tears for the cowards.”
Still, by the end of 2011, protest was starting to give way to resistance, and an armed insurgency was beginning to form. Force could only be met by force. At the funeral in Douma, a man had come up to me carry- ing a sign. It said: “The Free Syrian Army represents and protects me.” The Free Syrian Army, known as the FSA, had formed in July and was made up mostly of Syrian soldiers who had defected after refusing orders to fire on the people.
Razan and Hussein had differing views about the inception of the FSA. Hussein emphasized that the militia’s only role was to form a perim- eter around the rallies and protect the people: “I guess it’s some kind of necessary right now.” Razan was much more skeptical, concerned that the group would fundamentally change the spirit of their nonviolent movement. Her concerns turned out to be prophetic.
It was the beginning of the militarization of the conflict, one that Bashar al-Assad welcomed. He liked to claim that Syrians and the out- side world had a binary choice: him or terrorism. And in a move of cal- lous calculation, that spring he had released thousands of imprisoned jihadis—they would graft themselves onto the insurgency and eventu- ally consume it.
Late one night, Hussein offered to arrange for me to meet members of the Free Syrian Army. While some FSA fighters had been interviewed in Homs, none had done an on-camera interview with a Western journal- ist in Damascus—largely because very few foreign journalists had man- aged to get into Damascus, with the exception of a handful of Europeans who had visas from the regime. But they had minders assigned to watch their every move and weren’t able to get near the protests. I knew I had a singular opportunity—and I wanted to see how real this armed resistance was.
Hussein drove me back to Douma, and from there I got into another car with a man who apologized before blindfolding me. He explained that he had to make sure I didn’t know the location of the safe house where the interview would take place. Hussein was not allowed to come with me.
I willed myself not to panic as the car twisted along winding back roads. I had no idea where we were going. After about twenty minutes, we stopped, and the cool air rushed to my face as the car door opened. Some- one helped guide me inside a house, where my blindfold was removed. Standing before me were about a dozen men in military fatigues, carry- ing AK-47s and RPGs (rocket propelled grenades), their faces covered by checkered scarves known as keffiyehs.
My mouth felt dry. I was all too aware of how much of a target they were—and I half expected a bunch of Syrian military commandos to come bursting through the door at any minute, guns blazing.
I cleared my throat and introduced myself while trying to work out how I was going to shoot this interview. The frame needed to be wide enough to get all the men in it as well as me. How I wished for a camera- man and a tripod. In the end, I gave the camera to the man who had driven me there, and he balanced it on a pile of books on a side table. This would not be a beautifully produced piece of television. “We are fighting those who made our children orphans and our wives widows,” the commander began. I asked if he wasn’t concerned that by militarizing the conflict, more people were going to get hurt. “We didn’t choose to go to war,” he said. “It was imposed upon us to protect our people and our honor.” He sounded stiff and formal. The commander claimed that his men had carried out attacks on military tar- gets around the capital, the heart of Assad’s power base, seizing weapons along the way. I couldn’t get a sense of how this contingent of men fit into the hi- erarchy of the FSA, which was an early clue that there wasn’t really a coherent structure to the organization. Any group could make a banner and upload videos to YouTube, declaring themselves members of the Free Syrian Army—but it didn’t mean there was communication and coordi- nation between the groups. The Islamist movements that would eventu- ally subsume the insurgency were more disciplined, more ruthless.
As we were finishing the interview, one of the fighters beckoned me over. He was holding up a passport-sized photo of a smiling little boy with chubby cheeks and curly brown hair, his son.
“This is what we are fighting for,” he told me with an air of urgency. “So that he can have a better future.” His eyes bored directly into mine, as if to say, “Do you get it now? Do you understand?” I nodded slowly. His sincerity was obvious. But it was also clear that the fighters didn’t have a real strategy and they were up against an unrelenting enemy.
After a week in Damascus, I wanted to try to get to Homs, where the crackdown had been at its most brutal. I messaged my bosses in New York. “No,” came the immediate reply. “It sounds like you have great stuff, don’t push your luck.”
It’s easy, as a journalist, to spend time in a dangerous place and be- come desensitized to the risks, to want more, to never think that what you have is enough. You rely on experienced colleagues who can check your ambitions. I remember the great CBS reporter Allen Pizzey quoting an editor with the Reuters news agency in Africa who would summon his reporters back from the front lines of far-flung war zones with a simple telegram: “Cannot file if dead.”
In addition to the lure of a better story, in those early days of the Arab Spring there was also a hope that a better reality was actually possible. That change was within reach. I hoped that my work could in a small way aid that cause, but in Syria I would come to realize that the idea of “making a difference” in journalism is as seductive as it is dangerous. It encourages hubris and shifts the focus from the actual job. The reality is we are not there to solve the problem, we are there to illuminate it. On my last night in Damascus, a blackout blanketed the city, one of many small signs that all was not well in the capital. Hussein and Razan and I sat in the darkness in his living room, the glow of Razan’s cigarette lighting up her face a little when she took a drag. I thought back to that morning when I had asked her if she had a message for Bashar al-Assad.
“Leave!” she said simply. “Leave now because you know that you will leave at the end but with more victims, with more suffering of the people. So just leave and leave us to start our new future, our new country. You got enough of our blood.”
But Assad didn’t leave. And within two years of that trip to Damascus, Hussein would be imprisoned and Razan would be kidnapped by armed men. Neither have been heard from since.
Product details
- Publisher : Penguin Books; Reprint edition (September 7, 2021)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 352 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0525561498
- ISBN-13 : 978-0525561491
- Item Weight : 10.6 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.5 x 0.8 x 8.4 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #109,158 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #88 in Journalist Biographies
- #1,194 in Women's Biographies
- #3,316 in Memoirs (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
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Customers find the book engaging and enjoyable. They find the writing quality insightful and well-crafted. Readers describe the author as courageous and a gifted writer. The book provides an eye-opening look at the life of a remarkable woman. Customers appreciate the photos at the end that put faces to those people who were vital. Overall, they find the book humane and compassionate, revealing the anguish of women trying to keep their families together during years of war.
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Customers find the book engaging and well-written. They appreciate the author's work and consider it a must-read.
"...behind the scenes of one of our most remarkable tv journalists..a brilliant , courageous and talented writer." Read more
"...but that said, wow! what a well written book. and beautifully edited. ward is sharp, humane, generous and real...." Read more
"...While it isn’t a 5-stars hit but this book definitely hit the mark. We should be thankful for people like her who carrying the burden...." Read more
"This is a terrific read for anyone interested in what's going on in the world...." Read more
Customers find the book insightful and engaging. They appreciate the author's clear storytelling style and her detailed descriptions of assignments. The story is described as fascinating, instructive, and revealing.
"Absolutely compelling story behind the scenes of one of our most remarkable tv journalists..a brilliant , courageous and talented writer." Read more
"...It made continuous attention to the story that she was telling. While it isn’t a 5-stars hit but this book definitely hit the mark...." Read more
"...Concise, blunt reporting" Read more
"...Very much enjoyed the honest reflections from growing up, getting your first break to leading your teams into troubled territories as a seasoned..." Read more
Customers find the book well-written and engaging. They appreciate the concise, clear reporting and detailed accounts of the wartime experiences. The writing style is described as heartfelt and thought-provoking.
"...our most remarkable tv journalists..a brilliant , courageous and talented writer." Read more
"...but that said, wow! what a well written book. and beautifully edited. ward is sharp, humane, generous and real...." Read more
"She puts herself and you into the action...well describes the effort and dangers in traumatic battle environments and the support team of camera..." Read more
"Clarissa is a gifted writer. Her story is compelling and her thoughts are bright...." Read more
Customers praise the author's courage. They find her a remarkable woman and a great role model for young women. Readers appreciate her reporting and consider her one of the best war correspondents working today.
"...scenes of one of our most remarkable tv journalists..a brilliant , courageous and talented writer." Read more
"...I'm in awe of this amazing woman." Read more
"...I was highly impressed with her reporting and heard the reference of her book. I spent a lot of time googling while reading...." Read more
"...I love that she recognizes her privledge and still feels the need to put herself in situations that most would run from...." Read more
Customers find the book engaging and thought-provoking. They appreciate the candid look at the life of a brave individual. The photos at the end help put faces to those who were important.
"...I really appreciated the few photos at the end, they put faces to those people who were vital to her experiences...." Read more
"This is a great narrative from Clarissa Ward. Centerfold area has great photos. Consider that the Paperback edition has pretty small print." Read more
"...Breathtaking!" Read more
"Honest and fascinating look at the life of an incredibly brave and intelligent journalist." Read more
Customers appreciate the author's humanity and compassion. They find the book honest and heartbreaking, revealing the anguish of women trying to keep their families together during years of war. The author has respect for everyday people in these war-torn countries.
"...what a well written book. and beautifully edited. ward is sharp, humane, generous and real...." Read more
"...Reveals the anguish of the women trying to keep their families to together during years of war. Concise, blunt reporting" Read more
"...There are also heartbreaking stories of people who would normally not be heard. I hope that she has a follow up book in the future...." Read more
"...bombs dropped nearby—but also because Clarissa Ward was honest enough to share her humanity, compassion, and just true human feelings. I am in awe." Read more
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- Reviewed in the United States on September 13, 2023Absolutely compelling story behind the scenes of one of our most remarkable tv journalists..a brilliant , courageous and talented writer.
- Reviewed in the United States on October 19, 2020i happen to like memoirs and i happen to be drawn to the adventures of correspondents traveling the globe, so this book appealed to me. but that said, wow! what a well written book. and beautifully edited. ward is sharp, humane, generous and real. as others have already said, this book is hard to put down and once you are done with it, watch out because it's depressing trying to find another book as good as this to read. and all the while, i learned more about the logistics involved in her line of work and i came to better understand the dynamics in syria and how ISIS came to be. it's frustrating to "witness" so much conflict and so little regard in truly addressing these conflicts. it's true that we seem to sit home in the comfort of our heated homes hoping someone does something all the while we turn the page and do nothing more while we witness so few doing so little (including me). we need people like clarissa ward to bring the truth to our officials, to each of us so that we can try to ensure a deeper humanity in all parts of the world. at any rate, definitely buy this book. you'll read it more than once, i promise you.
- Reviewed in the United States on September 22, 2023I think this book was pretty great and straightforward. It made continuous attention to the story that she was telling. While it isn’t a 5-stars hit but this book definitely hit the mark. We should be thankful for people like her who carrying the burden. The heavy weight that they brought to the public about the realities on the ground. It helps to weigh down our ignorance away being swelling. She earned my respect for what she does.
- Reviewed in the United States on January 1, 2025She puts herself and you into the action...well describes the effort and dangers in traumatic battle environments and the support team of camera men and guides. Reveals the anguish of the women trying to keep their families to together during years of war. Concise, blunt reporting
- Reviewed in the United States on March 26, 2022This is a terrific read for anyone interested in what's going on in the world. With her privileged background, Clarissa Ward could have chosen a much easier path. Instead, driven by a need to deliver news from the world's hot spots and ambition to succeed, she spent years in war-torn countries in harm's way, often under the most uncomfortable and dangerous conditions. Touching, too, is her heartrending account of the constant tug between her job and motherhood. We haven't seen much of her on CNN lately. My guess is that after her initial scary reporting from Ukraine, she's spending time with the kids. And who can blame her? This is the kind of book you think about long after you've read it. You just shake your head and say, "I could never have done any of that." That includes learning to speak Russian Arabic, Chinese, and three romance languages. I'm in awe of this amazing woman.
- Reviewed in the United States on August 11, 2023Thank you Clarissa for taking us through your incredible hardships while fostering your craft to capture the horrific atrocities going on in the far corners of our "modern" societies. The randomness of some humans to be born into privilege while other humans are birthed on make shift rafts fleeing death is real and we need to be reminded of it, have empathy for it as we are really all the same.
Very much enjoyed the honest reflections from growing up, getting your first break to leading your teams into troubled territories as a seasoned veteran. The most strong and brave of us all have those same butterflies and self doubt while taking on those calculated dangers but the really good ones can do it humbly with self depreciating humor on how awkward, nerdy or scared we felt while still putting your head down and scrumming through.
Thanks for pointing out that intelligent people see the grey because life is never black or white. Being a hard line zealot in any form is taking the easy route to anchor a thought process to, be it religion, politics, race, culture or what have you. People can't dehumanize and kill without only thinking in black and white, good vs evil. Refusing to learn the history and nuance of a scripture many hold so dear only to use that dumbed down iteration to compel masses to commit atrocities is the true evil that we've witnessed throughout history and is true to this day. Worst is the leaders usually do this knowingly for their own power.
Lastly, you seem to be a cool and adventurous gal that many of us would love to through back a cocktail with. Hope you get to do it with your friend Austin. Cheers!
- Reviewed in the United States on September 17, 2020Clarissa is a gifted writer. Her story is compelling and her thoughts are bright. Beyond her experiences as a journalist and on the front lines mainly in the Middle East, Clarissa writes about her experiences as a woman and with misogyny. Although Ward is a TV reporter who often writes of the importance of visuals and of the craft of the story, her words gave me more room to understand the atrocities and horrors she saw in a way that is more considered than I often experience in a 90 second tv clip. An eye-opening wonderful read that puts so much in perspective.
5.0 out of 5 stars Compelling, thoughtful and eye opening.Clarissa is a gifted writer. Her story is compelling and her thoughts are bright. Beyond her experiences as a journalist and on the front lines mainly in the Middle East, Clarissa writes about her experiences as a woman and with misogyny. Although Ward is a TV reporter who often writes of the importance of visuals and of the craft of the story, her words gave me more room to understand the atrocities and horrors she saw in a way that is more considered than I often experience in a 90 second tv clip. An eye-opening wonderful read that puts so much in perspective.
Reviewed in the United States on September 17, 2020
Images in this review - Reviewed in the United States on August 26, 2024Excellent memoir by one of the best foreign correspondents of today. Anyone interested in world affairs and recent history should grab this book and devour it. I did over a long weekend. Highly recommend.
Top reviews from other countries
- N. D. GrahamReviewed in Canada on November 6, 2023
5.0 out of 5 stars Really interesting.
Clarissa Ward is an iconic journalist whose book reads easily yet with great impact. She raised my esteem for journalists with this book.
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Ana MFReviewed in Mexico on May 6, 2022
4.0 out of 5 stars historias interesantes
Las interesantes coberturas de una periodista de guerra. Su vida dentro y fuera del trabajo, si es que alguna vez se lograba estar fuera del todo.
- Kindle CustomerReviewed in Italy on July 15, 2023
5.0 out of 5 stars Simply Amazing...
I just finish to read this book...I read it in a week
Despite the subject ... I found this book simply amazing..
The author is excellent journalist ... other than a wonderful writer
- SGReviewed in Germany on January 26, 2023
5.0 out of 5 stars Incredible
Ward's biography is unbelievable. It's almost too extreme to be real. At six months pregnant she still visited war torn areas. The final three chapters of the book I just read in one sitting, in the middle of the night because I couldn't put it down. It is going to take me some time to process all of what I've just read.
- BarbaraReviewed in France on November 24, 2021
5.0 out of 5 stars A courageous woman, with a heart and smarts.
A courageous woman, with a heart and smarts. Excellent writer and story-teller.
Because she has covered so many conflicts, since 2003, her book is also a glance across our recent history, with her special view from the inside of those conflicts and her intelligence in analyzing them.
I liked that it was Samantha Power who invited Ward to address the UN concerning Syria. Two excellent geopolitical women. Power’s book is called “The Education of an Idealist” and it is also excellent.
A native Anglophone, at 20 Clarissa spoke French, Italian, Spanish and Russian. She subsequently added Arabic. She would use them all for her work and and in her personal life.
“Bomb one terrorist and ten come to his funeral.”
“Cannot file if dead.”
“It never got any easier to understand or accept the randomness of privilege in this world.”
“In a sense I had failed in my quest to act as a translator between worlds. There were too many who didn’t want to hear the stories of others, who felt that listening was tantamount to weakness, who believed that humanizing ‘the other’ was dangerous."
But she does it anyway, thank God.