From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com
Pamela Constable has been reporting from abroad for nearly two decades, and for The Washington Post since 1999; she's currently the paper's bureau chief in Kabul. As she tells us time and again throughout Fragments of Grace, she's seen it all and done most of it, too. She's talked her way into war zones, stared down dictators and gone undercover -- literally, beneath a burqa -- in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. Fragments of Grace is her summary of what she's learned as a journalist but also as a human being, a woman in search of "meaning." What did she find? Very little that you haven't heard before, even if you've never come across Constable's byline. Her descriptions of post-Taliban Kabul contain the kind of telling details that might not fit in 20 column inches, and her behind-the-scenes account of her reporting life is entertaining as travel writing, but the whole falls short of original insight. We're told, for instance, that truth is often a casualty of war. That may be because Third World countries are places of "perplexing contradictions."Many Third Worlders are too stubborn to accept "the inevitable course of progress"; those who are "open-minded" may be afflicted by feelings of "hollowness and despair." Fortunately, if you look long enough, you will come upon life-affirming moments, such as the sight of thousands of Hindus caught up in rapturous prayer. These affirmations are a "testament to human faith." Asking "faith in what?" is, apparently, beyond the scope of Constable's reporting -- which, to be fair, she acknowledges. Fragments of Grace is not just a collection of thinly observed political and spiritual truisms; it's an implicit indictment of the kind of journalism that leaves a smart, tough, veteran reporter like her with nothing else about which to wax poetic. She writes of "dutifully [trying] to cast a little blame in all directions" when reporting from Kashmir even though she knows that's the equivalent of saying nothing, and of filing "professional and even-handed" reports even though she wonders if they're as true as the bloody, confused accounts of events provided to her by villagers in the midst of conflict. In Pakistan, she notes, "I learned more about the country in a few hours at a shoemaker's workshop or a school for street children or a clinic for drug addicts than I did at a dozen news conferences by men in suits and uniforms" -- a stark admission that her regular diet of official interviews and junkets is mean gruel. And yet she keeps reporting on the news conferences. That may be a small mercy in itself. Describing herself as a "quick study" and an "emotional extruder," Constable nevertheless comes across as ill-informed. Visiting a madrassa in Pakistan, she poses this less-than-penetrating query: Why study the Koran in "a language you don't understand"? -- the equivalent of asking an observant Jew why he or she bothers with Hebrew. A legitimate question for a tourist to ask, perhaps, but not a journalist on whom readers rely for knowledgeable reporting. Elsewhere, she writes that Peshawar looks like a scene from the Bible or "a verse from the Koran" -- although the Koran features little worldly physical description. Young jihadis, she claims, are willing to die for their cause due to nothing more complex than "the perverse power of Islamic brainwashing." Constable's summaries of the rise of radical Islam in the countries she covers are thorough when they deal with politics. But when she tries to explain the cultural or religious significance of radical Islam, she retreats to the worst kind of Orientalist clichés, referring to radical Islamists as "primitive" and, most jarring to a reader with any sense of religious history, as "puritans." Of course, radical Islam is as much a part of modern life as the "dignity and graciousness" of Constable's upper-crust Connecticut parents, whom she visits in the first of several "interludes" that pace the book. Such interludes are necessary because the life of a foreign correspondent is a rough one, and on this score at least Constable does her readers a valuable service. She writes of the missed holidays and the boredom that are a part of the life, and also of the weeping fits on airplanes, violent nightmares, the children she never had and often imagines. Her profession has made her a "perennial barfly." But when she stares into her drink, she's not mulling the fate of the world or the cost of her career so much as -- well, herself. Thinking back on it all, she writes that maybe she's been "searching, in a thousand exotic places and faces, for clues to the puzzle of myself." This is where the "fragments of grace" come in. "When I think of the corruption and cruelty I have encountered in my travels," she writes,"the hideous unfairness of people's fates, the contempt for law and the irrelevance of moral merit, I thank God for the WASPy roots that once embarrassed me." But Constable is too much of a pro to succumb fully to the temptations of cultural condescension. She rejects many of the clichés that inform foreign policy punditry, especially the facile concept of a "clash of civilizations." She's empathetic enough to understand even the harshest critics of the developed world. (At one point, watching President Bill Clinton on an airport lobby TV "describing in legalistic but prurient detail his office antics with a girl of twenty," she thinks: "The Taliban were right" about Western "decadence.") And although she writes so easily of "universal patterns of human need" that Fragments of Grace sometimes reads like a prose version of "The Family of Man," she is no fool. Describing an encounter with an American missionary in Pakistan (whose church, Protestant International, Constable later joined), she writes, "I smelled fundamentalism; she smelled sensationalism. I was always asking questions and taking notes; she was always praising God and thanking Jesus. It occurred to me that we were both using these vulnerable refugees; in my case to sell newspapers, in hers to save souls." That's a sharp observation. Unfortunately, it tells us all too much about why Constable -- and the many foreign correspondents like her assigned to Muslim countries that they're simply too ill-prepared to understand -- often miss the rest of the story. Reviewed by Jeff Sharlet Copyright 2004, The Washington Post Co. All Rights Reserved.


Book Description
For four and a half years, Pamela Constable, a veteran foreign correspondent and award-winning author, has traveled through South Asia on assignment for the Washington Post. Following religious conflicts, political crises, and natural disasters, she also searched for signs of humanity and dignity in societies rife with violence, poverty, prejudice, and greed. In Afghanistan, she made numerous visits while the country suffered under the hostile rule of the Taliban, attempted to reach the capital in a convoy that was ambushed and saw four journalists killed. She finally moved to Kabul in late 2001 to chronicle the country’s post-Taliban rebirth. In Pakistan, she covered a military coup in 1999, immersed herself in the mys-terious world of Muslim mosques and academies, and discovered both the extremist and tolerant faces of Islam. In India, she attended one of the largest spiritual gatherings of Hindu pilgrims in history and then rushed to the horrific aftermath of a devastating earthquake. She repeatedly visited the Kashmir Valley, where Pakistani-backed Muslim guerrillas are waging a seemingly endless war with Indian security forces. In Nepal, she covered the crown prince’s massacre of the royal family and journeyed to remote villages where communist rebels brought rigid moral order to life. In Sri Lanka, she explored a tropical paradise where reclusive insurgents trained children to become suicide bombers in pursuit of a utopian ethnic homeland. Between extended sojourns in South Asia, Constable returned to the West to reflect on the risks and rewards of her profession, revisit her roots, and compare her experiences with Islam, Hinduism, and Christianity. Her book is a uniquely personal exploration of the rich but solitary life of a foreign correspondent, set against a regional backdrop of extraordinary political and religious tumult.


About the Author
Currently based in Kabul, Afghanistan, PAMELA CONSTABLE has been covering South Asia for the Washington Post since April 1999, spending four years as the region’s bureau chief. She is the coauthor with Arturo Valenzuela of A Nation of Enemies: Chile Under Pinochet. She has been awarded an Alicia Patterson Fellowship and the Maria Moors Cabot Prize, and she recently completed her tenure as the Pew International Journalism Program’s journalist-in-residence.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Constable's book contains countless startling and poignant dispatches from South Asia: widows forced to sing for their supper in Hindu temple towns; stern Islamic clerics who rail against decadent Western music but have never heard of Beethoven; a Pakistani woman whose jealous husband carved off her face in the name of Islamic honor; a dying man saved by the Hindu monkey god after the most modern medical clinic in New Delhi failed to revive him; a Nepalese shelter for young girls freed from sexual bondage; and Sri Lankan censors attempting to limit an American journalist's press freedom.

SYNOPSIS

Constable (a South Asia correspondent for the Washington Post) arrived in South Asia in 1998 as a neophyte after years of covering Latin American issues in her journalism. Combining journalistic reportage, memoir, political analysis, and travelogue, she reflects on her experiences reporting from India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, discussing her encounters with the exotic (to her) religions of the region, the roots and events of the long-running guerilla wars in Kashmir and Sri Lanka, the U.S. war to overthrow the Taliban in 2001, and other aspects of the tumultuous region. Distributed by Books International. Annotation ©2004 Book News, Inc., Portland, OR

FROM THE CRITICS

Foreign Affairs