Alan Johnston
May 7, 2008 by estherbintliff
I was lucky enough to hear this award-winning BBC journalist talk at City University last night. Soft-spoken and courteous, responding thoughtfully to the questions of City professor and ex-ITN chief Stewart Purvis, Johnston recounted the terrifying ordeal of his captivity in Gaza.
What became most apparent was Johnston’s abiding generosity of spirit, whether in answering students’ questions with a sense of real reflection and sincerity, or in his compassionate analysis of his captors and their motives.
And it was refreshing to hear that despite his kidnapping and prolonged reporting from one of the most desperate war zones in the world, Johnston remains absolutely committed to the kind of journalism that is often dismissed as idealistic: that prizes truth and objectivity above the tabloid scoop; that aims for balance above sensation; that believes reporters bear real responsibility to their audience and their subject.
Anyway here are three highlights (or the bits I found most interesting and was able to get down in my halting shorthand).
On his coping mechanisms while in captivity:
“It was a vast psychological battle every hour and every day. There were difficult, dark, bleak passages.
“I’d often dream very vividly that I was free, that I was in a restaurant talking about the wretched kidnapping, but then as the dream went on it would start to go wrong; I wouldn’t be able to leave the restaurant… then I’d wake up and I’d see the prison door and immediately know exactly where I was. It was those moments, on waking, when I would feel engulfed in darkness. I felt I got older in that room.
“From the start I always knew there had to be a fight - a mental fight - to steer my thoughts into the light and out of the dark. I had endless strategies for that, some of them worked, some didn’t. I consciously worked not to feel loathing for my captors. I tried not to engage with them in any way, good or bad.”
On hearing of the campaign to free him:
“I felt I was in the worst trouble of my life. But the idea that this campaign was gearing up around the world was so amazing to me; that people I’d never met in places like Indonesia were praying for me, that children in Britain were writing to me. It was incredible. And it gave me hope, because the worst fear when you’ve been kidnapped is that you’ll be forgotten about.”
On missing home:
“I remember listening to the radio, it was about this time of year and it must have been the French Open. And I was imagining everyone sitting around on the streets in cafes, reading newspapers, and that whole extraordinary liberal Western world that I’m so at home in - it meant so much to me, more than it ever had before.”
