This website is no longer actively maintained
Some material and features may be unavailable
In the NewsRoomsubscribe rssIn the NewsRoom

February 18, 2009
I’ve never met Stalin, but I held his brain

Russia thinks the mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Worldfocus anchor Martin Savidge describes his visit to the Institute of Brain, a facility in Moscow where the former Soviet Union preserved the brain tissue of its most notable citizens — and where he held the remnants of Josef Stalin’s brain.

This week on Worldfocus we had two interesting stories from Russia by Martin Himel. One was about the revival of Stalinism, basically looking at how the former Soviet dictator of the 30s and 40s — responsible for killing millions — is receiving renewed respect from Russians. Shocking, but true.

Personally, I never met the man, but I have held his brain.

Really…

Not long after the collapse of communism, I was in the old Soviet Union doing a number of reports on how life was changing. During part of the journey, I traveled with a well-known American brain surgeon by the name of Dr. Robert White. He was the one who told me about the Institute of Brain in Moscow.

He told me that when a great Soviet died, whether a Russian leader or performer in the arts, it was a secret that they were buried without their brain. Instead, it was preserved for study at the Institute of Brain — the thinking being that if you studied the brain long enough, you would eventually discover what made that person great. Dumbstruck, I immediately knew we had to get in to do a story on this ultimate “think tank.”

“But you don’t just show up on the doorstep of the Institute of Brain and announce yourself,” I said.

“That,” said Dr. White, “is exactly what we WILL do.” So there we were on a quiet tree-lined Moscow street, standing on the steps of a red brick building with a brass plaque, ringing the doorbell.

Getting in with a television camera required a lot of creative talking and drinking a lot of tea. Let’s just say I was introduced as “Dr. Savidge” and there was something about a medical documentary (Oh, the minor deceits we must make for journalism!) .

Soon, we were walking the halls of one of the most bizarre and fascinating institutions I have ever seen. Brains were everywhere! Some sat pickling in giant glass jars on desktops. Most were sealed in large blocks of paraffin wax. Open a cupboard, and you’d find brains stacked so precariously that they threatened to…brain you.

We were given a demonstration of how the studying was done. A brain sealed in wax was lifted from the shelf and placed in what looked like a turn-of-the-century deli slicer. A few squeaky cranks of a handle, and a tissue paper slice of grey fluttered into a scientist’s waiting hand. It was then placed between sheets of glass, stained with purple dye and put beneath a microscope.

As our tour continued, the guide told us with a smile that all of the brains had been weighed and measured. Turns out the smallest one in the entire collection belonged to Vladimir Lenin, the man who started Russia on the road to communism. I didn’t know whether to laugh or just say “I told you so” — instead I simply stroked my chin and said “Hmmm.”

It was then that the tour stopped in front of a very heavy door with the number 19 on it. “This is vault 19,” proclaimed our guide. “It holds the brains of our great political leaders.” Dr. White had spoken of this place but thought it was so sensitive that we would never be allowed to see it.

The door was pulled open and we were ushered in.

The room measured about ten by ten, and the walls were lined with wooden drawers. The host walked over to one and carefully pulled it open. “This,” he announced, “is Stalin’s.”

The dictator’s brain was not what it had been. It had long ago passed through the cerebral vego-matic and was now reduced to hundreds of glass plates.

“Would you like to hold it?” the guide asked. For some odd reason, I said yes. And so it came to be that I held Stalin’s brain, thanks to the fact that in the old Soviet Union they had preserved the brains of their leaders, truly believing the mind is a terrible thing to waste.

– Martin Savidge

bookmark    print    Email

February 12, 2009
My rendezvous with Rather — circa 1983 and now


Then and now: Martin Savidge with Dan Rather in 1983 and 2009.

When he was a local television reporter in Peoria, Illinois, a young Martin Savidge met veteran journalist Dan Rather. Now, after interviewing Rather this week, the Worldfocus anchor discusses the importance of his iconic global reporting.

We asked Dan Rather to come by Worldfocus on Monday. For me it was a personal thrill, as well as a professional opportunity to better inform our audience on Afghanistan. Watch the interview here: No quick peace in Afghanistan’s long-term war.

I first met Dan as a young journalist on my second job in TV news, working for a local CBS affiliate in Peoria, Illinois. Yup, I played in Peoria! I was sent to New York and CBS along with my co-anchor, Anne Ferry, to shoot the much-coveted promotional spot — local TV people with the Dan Rather.

You can imagine for a young journalist how intimidating it might be meeting one of America’s most trusted. Before the promo shoot, he invited us into his office just to chat. He knew plenty about Peoria and especially central Illinois’ place in present and past political history. He made me feel at ease.

Later, I had a photo taken of the three of us on the set of CBS Evening News. I have kept it proudly on display in my home ever since.

For me, Rather is also synonymous to a deep commitment to international coverage, understanding that it is essential for American viewers. Americans came to know of many distant lands because Dan went there for us. His embeds with the Mujahideen in Afghanistan have become iconic, even the stuff of movies.

Rather has continued to watch Afghanistan and the rest of the world through his weekly program, “Dan Rather Reports” on HDNet. It is the kind of reporting we strive for on Worldfocus — depth and understanding. The world matters. So his insight and experience was perfect for our discussion on America’s new focus on an ancient land.

Before he left Monday, I asked Dan for a favor which he graciously granted. And we posed for a photo on the set of Worldfocus side by side.

For me, history had come full circle.

– Martin Savidge

bookmark    print    Email

February 6, 2009
The proud and dismayed pray for the pope

Pope Benedict XVI.

Worldfocus anchor Martin Savidge watched from Germany as Joseph Ratzinger became Pope Benedict XVI, and considers what the pope’s journey means to his native Germany.

When Pope John Paul II died in April of 2005, NBC chartered a plane to fly a huge team of reporters, producers and technicians to Rome to cover the funeral and the selection of a successor. I wasn’t among them. Instead, I went to London to fill in for all those who went to Rome.

When the conclave to elect a new Pope began, I was moved to Bavaria. German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger wasn’t considered by many in the media to stand much of a chance of succeeding the man he advised for years, but you never know — so there I was standing in the tiny town of Marktl am Inn where Ratzinger was born. The local priest confirmed my suspicion that this was a Papal goose chase after I asked him how many other reporters had interviewed him about Ratzinger so far: “You’re the first,” he said.

The prevailing guidance from the foreign desk was that if no Pope was selected in the first ballot, then Ratzinger was definitely out of the running. The first, second and third ballots came and went with only black smoke — then it went white.

No longer feeling part of the story, the crew and I were still interested in knowing who the next Pope would be, so we headed to the only public place that had a television: The local brauhouse, or bar.

So there we sat with about 40 other locals nursing apple juice while they downed beer. We watched as the curtain in the Vatican was pulled back to reveal the new Holy See. Joseph Ratzinger! The bar burst into cheers and some men actually were crying in their beer with joy.

The bells at the church began to ring without stop. People poured into the street celebrating despite a cold and steady rain. The mayor came out of city hall and delivered some words and then everyone headed for the church for a special mass to pray for the new German Pope and hometown hero. It was a moment for the memory books.

In the four years since, it hasn’t been happily ever after for Pope Benedict XVI. He created great controversy upsetting Muslims with his speech that criticized the faith of Mohammad. Then, just two weeks ago, he infuriated many Jews by reinstating a former Bishop who has been a vocal denier of the Holocaust. Richard Williamson’s words — and the earnestness of how he delivers them — are frightening. The Holy See has since said that Williamson must “unequivocally and publicly distance himself” from his statements about the Holocaust.

In one fell swoop, Germany’s hometown hero has triggered world condemnation and done so over Germany’s national shame. Denying the Holocaust in Germany is against the law. And so it was that Germany’s Chancellor Angela Merkel would be the first world leader to criticize her native son, saying, “This should not be allowed to pass without consequences.” For many Catholic Germans, a more painful conflict of faith is hard to imagine.

And yet, I can see the faithful people of Marktl am Inn once again heading to the local church and praying for their hometown boy, just as they did four years ago — only this time adding a bit stronger emphasis on the request for God to grant him wisdom.

– Martin Savidge

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Ammar Abd Rabbo under a Creative Commons license.

bookmark    print    Email

January 30, 2009
Government casts a shadow over Cuba’s natural beauty

The Habana Libre hotel in Cuba.

Worldfocus anchor Martin Savidge writes about his experience reporting from Cuba on the Elián González story and recounts a nerve-wracking encounter with the Cuban government.

Jan. 1 marked the 50th anniversary of the Cuban revolution, which we noted in our Worldfocus radio show on Cuba this week. The show looks at the island’s past, present and future.

My connection to Cuba actually began in Panama in November of 1999, when I was covering the handover of the Panama Canal. The day I left, I stepped out of my room and over a newspaper headline that caught my eye: “Cuban boy found in waters off Florida.”

Little did I know, an international soap opera had just begun — one that would consume two nations and much of my reporting life for the next eight months.

The diplomatic tug-of-war over 6-year-old Elián González witnessed a huge role reversal. The U.S. government actually supported the Cuban government and went against the wishes of many Cuban Americans.

For many reporters, the story became one to loathe. Much like the Middle East conflict, the Elián story was highly emotional and very polarizing. I remember covering a rally in Miami by Cuban Americans protesting against returning the boy to his homeland.

At the time, I worked for CNN, which was despised by many in the Cuban-American community because it was seen as favoring Fidel Castro’s regime. This impression was bolstered by the fact that CNN had opened a bureau in Havana. To many in the crowd that night, CNN stood for the “Castro News Network.”

The protest would also lead to one of my favorite oxymorons. A man, very angry with my presence at the demonstration, got in my face and shouted, “The first thing we are going to do when we bring democracy back to Cuba is throw CNN out!” The fact that freedom of the press was one of the basic notions of a democracy didn’t seem to matter.

I ended up spending three months in Cuba, and I will always be grateful to Elián for that. It is a beautiful place, and in many ways unspoiled by over-commercialization. The people are exceptional as is the music, the food and the art. It’s the government I’m not a fan of.

I was reminded why I didn’t like the government the day Elián was seized by U.S. federal authorities from the home of relatives who had been refusing to give him up to go back to Cuba. The phone rang very early in my hotel room at the Habana Libre on April 22, 2000, telling me of the news and to get up to the bureau to start reporting on the Cuban reaction.

The news was all over U.S. cable and television stations, but the average Cuban doesn’t get those, so most were unaware. The only Cubans who did know of the Elián grab were working in hotels like the Habana Libre, where cable television was available for the tourists. So we interviewed a number of employees, including a young woman who said she felt sorry for the little boy because he looked so frightened when federal SWAT members pulled him from the home. Soon, the network began airing our interviews.

A few hours later, another employee came to me. She was very anxious and spoke in whispers. “They have taken her away,” she said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Maria — the one who said she thought Elián was scared.” I was dumbstruck. I should have seen this. Apparently, the Cuban government didn’t approve of her concern for the child’s emotional state, since her words implied a criticism of the U.S. action. Maria was now in the hands of police.

My fear was the propensity for CNN to run interviews on a breaking news story over and over. The more the Cuban government saw her interview, the more they might likely take it out on her and her family. I had to get CNN to stop running it, but I also couldn’t let Cuban government officials know I had been tipped off by the hotel staff.

Normally, this would be a simple phone call to Atlanta. But in Cuba, we believed the office and the hotel were bugged. We talked about what to do amongst the bureau staff on the balcony, hoping to avoid eavesdropping. Finally, we just called CNN and said they had to stop running her bite. “Why? It’s good!” was the answer from the International Desk.

“Just do it…please,” I said. I think it was the combination of begging and the note in my voice that convinced them.

“Okay. Done.”

I saw Maria the next day, much to my relief. She said it had been no big deal. I could tell by her eyes she was lying. Ever since that day, Cuba lost some of its beauty to me.

– Martin Savidge

bookmark    print    Email

January 23, 2009
What’s on Obama’s (full) plate?

Barack Obama: Making a list and checking it twice.

Worldfocus anchor Martin Savidge had some down time on the set this week, during which he helpfully compiled a list of all the global challenges facing President Barack Obama.

Have more advice for Obama? Post your video response.

The presidential plate…make that platter.

During some down time on the set this week, I started a list of pressing international issues requiring President Obama’s attention. If I missed something, feel free to add it by posting your comment below. I tried to put them in order of importance, but that is not to say they are in the order in which they must be tackled.

Global economic meltdown – stop, then fix.

Iraq – get the troops out while preventing a return to sectarian violence.

Afghanistan – get more troops in, maintain an anxious NATO commitment, halt a resurgence of the Taliban, rebuild.

Middle East – find a long-lasting solution to the Israeli/Palestinian conflict.

Iran – keep from becoming a nuclear threat.

Pakistan – prevent from collapsing into chaos. Keep the nukes out of extremist hands.

India – keep from attacking Pakistan.

Russia – it’s no Cold War, but there is definitely a draft…

North Korea – keep from getting more nukes or selling them to anyone else.

China – rising friend/rival.

Darfur – support a solution to end the genocide.

Somalia – stop piracy, stop famine and stop 17 years of lawlessness.

Democratic Republic of Congo – stop the killing — more than 5 million have died.

Zimbabwe – stop the cholera, tell Mugabe it’s time to go.

Global warming – fix.

Mexico – stop the drug violence, prevent civil war.

Venezuela – Keep Chavez in check, but engage.

Cuba – ease travel restrictions, encourage democratic reform, reconsider embargo.

Immigration – come up with a consistent policy.

The Baltics – remember Bosnia, Kosovo? There are rumors of more trouble.

Maldives – stop them from sinking.

Pray nothing else happens.

– Martin Savidge

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Barack Obama under a Creative Commons license.

bookmark    print    Email

January 22, 2009
Watching Oprah in a Syrian refugee camp

Kristen Gillespie produced Oprah brings taboo topics to Middle East and Women in Jordan head to work as economy sours. She is a freelance multimedia journalist whose work has been featured on NPR, The Columbia Journalism Review and The Nation Magazine. Kristen lives in Jordan and speaks Arabic.

Riem. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Oprah. Photo: Alan Light

A while back, I was asking my friend Riem about some sort of political development in the Arab world, and she told me she had given up not only on politics but had stopped what was a steady diet of Al Jazeera.

“Now I watch Oprah,” she announced.

Hearing a 35-year-old Palestinian living in a refugee camp in Syria — a closed, paranoid police state where I lived for nearly two years — enthusing about Oprah was jarring. Such is the reach of satellite television in the Arab world. Saddam Hussein used to ban satellite dishes, and Saudi Arabia still does, but even the most authoritarian of Arab states can’t stop the public from connecting with the outside world.

In a region where people overwhelmingly disapprove of American policy toward the Arab world, Oprah has quietly emerged as a better cultural ambassador than any public diplomacy effort in recent memory. As the months passed, I heard more from fans of Oprah. They are women representing a spectrum of class and religious orientation — conservative women, veiled women, liberal women and even women who don’t speak much English but read the Arabic subtitles.

Mazen Hayek, the marketing director for MBC4, the channel that airs “The Oprah Winfrey Show” in the Middle East, says the enormous positive feedback the station receives speaks for itself: “The best reward [is] hearing people tell you, we learn more from the Oprah show than from our schools, our universities. So the effect of Oprah on people’s lives is very positive.”

Riem inspired this story, but could not be a part of it because as a Palestinian without a passport, she is not allowed to travel to Jordan. She is still watching Oprah, even after struggling to reconcile her desire to live a modern life with her family’s expectation that she live a traditional one. Having been written off by relatives as too old to find a decent husband, Riem took matters into her own hands. She met and will soon be engaged to a younger man who admires and respects her, and looks forward to having it all.

– Kristen Gillespie

For more on talk shows and women in Arab media, see PBS Wide Angle’s “Dishing Democracy.”

bookmark    print    Email

January 21, 2009
Divorce outcasts women from Jordan’s social structure

Samia. Photo: Kristen Gillespie

Kristen Gillespie produced the signature video: Women in Jordan head to work as economy sours. She is a freelance multimedia journalist whose work has been featured on NPR, The Columbia Journalism Review and The Nation Magazine. Kristen lives in Jordan and speaks Arabic.

As the lunch break at the silver factory came to a close, we sipped the sweet tea served after meals from mismatched cups. Samia began describing the beatings she and her three small children regularly receive from her husband.

The other young women — some perched on the windowsill of the factory’s hallway, some seated cross-legged on the floor — seemed to be already apprised of Samia’s situation. They shook their heads sadly as Samia recounted how her 5-year-old son tried to protect her from the rage of his father.

Samia wants to leave her husband. In rural southern Jordan, it’s not easy. The individual is a piece of a greater collective: The tribe. It is the tribal leaders, all men, who make such decisions before legal proceedings begin.

But while Samia may have a good case -– her husband refuses to work and his abuse is widely known -– it is her mother who won’t allow it. A steely woman with small green tribal tattoos on her face, she had the first of her ten children at the age of twelve. Samia’s mother will make sure Samia never sees her children again if the divorce issue is raised. It would bring shame on the family.

From the time when she was little and her brothers held her down and tattooed two small green circles on her face, Samia has lived a life with little happiness. Spending time with her, as I did for five days in the southern village of Dana, one wonders how much control some people actually have over their lives. She was married without her consent to a man she loathed, she was sent to work to support the family, and at 33, she looks and feels years older.

Creating silver jewelry is surprisingly labor-intensive work, but Samia sings and cracks jokes throughout the day. This is in contrast to the interview we did in her home, where her mother and other family members had stayed during the work day to watch the children.

When I asked Samia a question, her mother would bark out an answer from across the room. Samia sat frozen and uncomfortable, and Cari Machet, the camerawoman for this story, decided we should immediately get her away from her mother.

We tried to interview Samia on the steps outside, but the neighborhood children came and made such a racket, throwing things and climbing on the car, that we had to go inside. The only other place was on the small balcony in the back of her apartment, but by that point, already shy in front of the camera, Samia was so rattled she could barely answer.

During the days in Dana, Samia’s personal story got me to thinking of ways she could possibly leave her husband. During a tea break, I asked the 12 girls at the factory what they thought Samia should do. They all agreed: She should make the best of it and stay with him. Fate determined they should marry, and divorce could threaten their close-knit society, one founded on the importance of family.

These 12 young women, ranging in age from 20 to 33, were all bright, funny and sometimes bawdy. I had assumed they would want to change a social structure so restrictive that women don’t even go out to buy vegetables at the market. But in their answer to Samia, I realized that my idea of freedom is not theirs, and that if further change comes to their society, it can only come from within.

– Kristen Gillespie

bookmark    print    Email

January 16, 2009
Scenes from “Roman Holiday” play out in Vietnam

Vietnamese weather the flooding in Hanoi.

Producer Ara Ayer reported on Worldfocus’ signature series on Vietnam’s economy, perception of Americans and legacies of war. Two stories show the devastating effects of Agent Orange and unexploded munitions, which still maim and kill Vietnamese to this day. Though some of the topics were difficult to cover, Ara explains why Vietnam represents so much more than a bygone war.

When I compare my reporting experience in Vietnam to other countries, a scene from the movie “Roman Holiday” comes to mind. I digress, but when the protagonist played by Audrey Hepburn is asked to name her favorite city, she hesitates then proudly proclaims, “Rome!” I have no such hesitation. Vietnam by far is the country I want to return to and report from again.

Vietnam isn’t the prettiest, most welcoming or modern country. But it wins your respect and, if you are fortunate enough to spend some time there, your heart. Some go for “the war,” the architectural and cultural remnants of its French colonial past or the kitsch of communism. I’d return for the people –- the real geography of any nation.

Proud, defiant, traditional yet progressive: The Vietnamese are a force. From city streets to hamlet huts, everyone seems busy at work or at play. It isn’t an X-box video game culture engaged in “Second Life” pursuits or reality programming.

Vietnam is about family, tradition, hard work and a grace of daily living that challenges and rewards. Some countries are blessed with great resources: Oil, minerals, agriculture. Vietnam has some of these — but I contend its real riches lay in the “can-do,” “never-say-die” attitude of its citizens. This undaunted quality was very much on display during the Hanoi floods this past November.

Downtown Hanoi’s flood waters reminded me of the seasonal deluge I used to cover as a beginning T.V. reporter in Missouri. Vietnamese trudged through chest-deep water, commuted on makeshift rafts and sandbagged the foyers of their homes. Much like hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Hanoi’s infrastructure failed. The government response could not keep pace with the rising water, and dozens died.

Where the government failed, fellow Vietnamese citizens came to the rescue. Neighbor saved neighbor. My admiration for the Vietnamese grew as I watched one act of kindness after another. Maybe it’s just human nature to want to help your fellow man – yet I found that sensibility fully expressed in deeds among the Vietnamese.

– Ara Ayer

bookmark    print    Email

January 15, 2009
Tanks for the memories

Martin Savidge’s former cameraman, Adil Bradlow, captures footage of an Israeli tank. Photo: Martin Savidge

Worldfocus anchor Martin Savidge recalls his experience reporting from Gaza in 2002, when his determined cameraman faced the roaring engines of an Israeli tank to get a closer shot.

It was rush hour in Gaza and the tanks were bumper-to-bumper.

I won’t bother blogging about the current conflict in Gaza. The topic is so divisive that no matter what I write, it would be perceived as too this, or too that.

Instead, I’ll tell you about the first time I went to Gaza — in the fall of 2002, as a correspondent for CNN. It was another time of tension between Israelis and Palestinians, back when Israel still occupied the Gaza Strip and before Hamas took it over.

Late one afternoon, we were traveling back from an interview. We had a driver and interpreter. The cameraman was Adil Bradlow, and a still photographer friend of his from South Africa joined us.

It was rush hour and the two-lane highway outside Gaza City was heavy with small cars and commercial vehicles. Not all of Gaza is dense urban sprawl; there are open areas of land, and we were in one such place.

Suddenly, a hulking Merkava tank — the main battle tank of the Israeli Defense Forces — swerved across the road. Its large cannon swiveled on its turret like the head of a beast, as the body belched a huge cloud of white smoke.

Now, in many parts of the world, this would have brought traffic to a standstill. Not Gaza. It was clear that drivers were accustomed to this, and it surprised me how nimbly they maneuvered around the tank, risking a crushing death if they misjudged the spinning treads that ground up the asphalt along with the dirt.

Another tank immediately followed in its wake, and as we looked in the direction from where they came, we could see a whole line of Israeli armor moving in formation. There was no firing and no clear indication of what the Israelis were up to. But that didn’t stop us from demanding that the driver pull over so we could get out and film.

I had been in enough conflict zones by then to know that you don’t approach a military convoy on the move, even if you only hold a camera or notebook. It’s a good way to get run over or shot. So Adil set his camera up on a tripod and filmed the procession from 100 yards away.

It was then we noted the tank closest to us. It was particularly loud and releasing a lot of smoke. It lurched forward, then back…I recognized the motion. It was stuck and trying to free itself from the soft sand. By now, the rest of the convoy had pushed on ahead. The Israeli tank and the crew inside were suddenly alone and vulnerable, and the crowd of Palestinian drivers halted nearby knew it.

As the tank continued to try and free itself, Adil — who has spent a lot of time in Gaza — decided this was the perfect opportunity to get a really close-up shot of an Israeli tank. So he took his camera off the sticks, put it on his shoulder and marched in the direction of the stuck Merkava. I had just the opposite thought, and felt this was probably a good time to move away from the disabled tank, retreating behind the corner of a nearby abandoned gas station — hardly any shelter from the Merkava’s 120mm gun, but I felt safer.

Adil continued to advance, and it wasn’t long before the tank took notice, swinging its turret and lowering its barrel to meet him head on.

Adil didn’t flinch. In other wars, I have seen a camera person shot for far less. Adil just kept moving closer.

Suddenly, the hatch of the tank flopped open and the commander rose up with an M-16 rifle, firing it into the air. Others who had been emboldened by Adil’s lead quickly scampered back…but not him. I tried shouting to him to get back, but Adil couldn’t hear anything above the roar of the tank’s laboring engine. Having made his point, the tank commander dropped back inside.

The standoff continued until finally another Israeli tank returned and pushed the stuck Merkava out the hole it had sunk into.

I always thought Adil was kind of dumb — after all, he could have just zoomed in from a distance to get his close-up shot.

But to Adil, it wasn’t about the shot at all but rather about the message he wanted to send: That he wasn’t intimidated by the power of the tank.

– Martin Savidge

bookmark    print    Email

January 8, 2009
Worldfocus producers hope for progress

Producers Yuval Lion, an Israeli citizen, and Mohammad al-Kassim, a Palestinian-American, work together daily at Worldfocus covering the Israel-Gaza conflict, among other issues.

They join Martin Savidge to share their knowledge of this divided region, in this third segment focusing on pessimism surrounding the current violence. They also reflect on their own interaction in the workplace.

See the first part of their conversation here: Israeli, Palestinian media show different sides of Gaza story.

See the second part of their conversation here: Producers recount personal stories from Gaza and Israel.

bookmark    print    Email

Produced by Creative News Group LLC     ©2019 WNET.ORG     All rights reserved

Distributed by American Public Television