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‘Multiple truths’: Finding the fuller story in the Middle East
In this reprise of a recent Monitor Daily podcast interview – enhanced with a curation of exchanges from some of his earlier appearances on this podcast – Taylor Luck talks with editors about his approach to his beat, and his takeaways about a restive region and the yearnings that many of its inhabitants share.
Even during interludes of relative calm, continuous cycles of conflict can appear inevitable in the Middle East.
Taylor Luck, based in Amman, Jordan, for the Monitor, has reported from around the region for 18 years. He has watched societal transformation, and witnessed both innovation and backsliding, in North Africa and around the Persian Gulf. He has covered the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and helped guide the important work of Ghada Abdulfattah, a Palestinian journalist and a Gazan, during the current phase of the long-running conflict in Gaza.
Today, on the ground in Gaza and Israel and also well beyond, the Monitor finds shared anguish, but also shared hope. Taylor sees an irrepressible, largely youth-powered yearning for stability and eventual prosperity.
“This region wants to move on,” Taylor says.
This episode of “Why We Wrote This” is a bit of a remix. Its centerpiece is a recent interview with Taylor by Christa Case Bryant, the Monitor’s editor and a former Jerusalem correspondent. It also includes excerpts from earlier appearances by Taylor on the podcast, and one from an episode that included Ghada. It’s meant to tell a little more of their stories.
Episode transcript
Clay Collins: Peace in the Middle East is one of the most continually deferred aspirations in modern human history. A story that’s come to be characterized by cycles. As we’re recording this, a ceasefire is holding, but being tested, a little more than two years after a deadly cross-border attack by Hamas fighters touched off an Israeli incursion and heavy fighting in Gaza.
The Monitor’s Taylor Luck, based in Amman, Jordan, has reported from the region and helped coordinate coverage of this current phase of the long-running conflict. He is the main contact for Ghada Abdulfattah, a Palestinian journalist and a Gazan.
On the ground in Gaza and Israel and beyond, Taylor says he finds shared anguish, but also shared hope. “This region wants to move on,” he says. To stability and eventual prosperity.
This is “Why We Wrote This.” I’m Clay Collins. The centerpiece of this episode is a recent interview … with Taylor … by Christa Case Bryant, the Monitor’s editor and former Jerusalem correspondent, among other roles.
Both Taylor and Ghada have been guests on this show before. We’ve pulled together some short segments from other episodes that let them tell more of their stories. Those follow Taylor’s conversation with Christa, which was first carried in our Daily podcast on October 27th and that begins again … here.
[MUSIC]
Christa Case Bryant: Welcome to the Monitor Daily podcast. I’m Christa Case Bryant, the editor of Ǵ, and I’m joined here this morning by Taylor Luck, our Middle East correspondent.
Sabah al-khayr.
Taylor Luck: Sabah al-noor. Good morning.
Case Bryant: So great to have you here with us. And we’re trying something a little different with our audio this morning. We’re just having a conversation here, since Taylor’s in town, and we just had a really interesting panel out at Principia College for their 25th Monitor Night Live, where four of us spoke about the importance of fairness and trying to get above the fray in this tumultuous news environment.
And Taylor, you just shared some things that were so helpful. And one of the things I most appreciated – having been Jerusalem bureau chief myself, and wrestled with some of these things during the last Gaza war in 2014, which was I think challenging but not nearly as devastating as what we’ve seen this time around – is just when we talk about these ideals of journalistic objectivity and the importance of, you know, trying to listen to a wide range of viewpoints and to convey in a fair and respectful way what those viewpoints are, do you ever feel like certain situations can get so severe that those principles need to be put aside in favor of some sort of moral imperative?
And how have you thought through that?
Luck: Well, thank you, Christa. I think, you know, that kind of pull or feeling of perhaps a sense of moral duty, or, perhaps, a sense of wanting to kind of inject your values into what you do as your job is only human, right? And I think it’s important to kind of acknowledge that, and especially in a conflict that’s been so, perhaps, one-sided in terms of civilian deaths, in terms of destruction, in terms of a man-made famine. So I think, part of kind of recognizing what I think our role is as kind of neutral referees is to recognize our own feelings, our own, perhaps, biases and views and our own values.
Right now we’re at a period where there’s a lot of journalists who see their jobs as activists and as advocates, whether it’s domestically in America or in the Middle East. A lot of my colleagues in Gaza who have been under threat of assassination and missile strikes, they see their job as activists not only telling their people’s story, but presenting a viewpoint. And I’m not there to disqualify that, but I think there’s a real need for neutral referees, kind of calling out, you know, balls and strikes. Calling out cynicism when there’s cynicism, calling out progress, when there’s progress.
So for me, I found the Gaza war has been the biggest test for me in terms of applying those principles.
Case Bryant: That’s saying a lot after how many years in the region? 18?
Luck: 18 years in the region, yeah. And I’ve seen lots of wars, unfortunately, and terrorism and various U.S. involvements in the region.
But this has been the toughest. And I think it’s been the toughest because civilians are [bearing] the brunt of the conflict. And at the same time, on the Israeli side, which I’ve also been able to witness firsthand, there’s been the plight of the hostage families, which again, were civilians that were not involved in conflict.
So for me, you know, the one kind of mantra I keep referring to, going back to my head when covering this conflict is that objectivity is not [just] objectivity when it’s easy, it’s not when you choose to use it. Objectivity is important when it feels like the darkest hour where there’s no hope, where there’s no reward, no witness.
And that’s when you stick to kind of those principles. So for me, I’ve had to kind of recognize, you know, my own feelings, and my own biases, perhaps, in terms of absorbing all the trauma of the conflict. Being in the Middle East and the Arab world, you’re watching Al Jazeera all the time. So you’re seeing images of children dead and dismembered and being pulled from the rubble, for example.
Case Bryant: And you mentioned that experience in the barbershop.
Luck: Exactly.
Case Bryant: Share that.
Luck: Yeah. It was a few months into the war, and the owner of the barbershop I go to is Gazan. He lives in Jordan, but his family’s from Gaza. And I was there when he received the call that his entire family had been wiped out in a missile strike. And he just shrieked, and then collapsed with the news. And I was with people getting those calls constantly, you know, and so it was affecting those around me. And that sense of just kind of … despair, constant despair, and I had to find a place where I recognized that and I see it, and I feel it.
But I also went to the other side and saw the kind of the humanity, and the despair, of the hostage families. And I kind of, you know, with my colleague Ghada, who is one of the few Gazan journalists who doesn’t see herself as an activist as much as a witness, of kind of recording this period of time.
And I think she’s so great strength in doing that when she herself has been displaced under strikes. And together we’ve built a body of work where we show the true kind of compilation of the facts without saying, “this is how you should feel.” And again, a lot of times that will show itself as every single person we interview has lost a close loved one, or been displaced a dozen times. Or the challenges of finding food or water, showing the nature of the man-made famine in Gaza without shouting that “this is where we stand, and this is how you should feel.”
I also keep referring to kind of the idea that we can have multiple truths in a story, even if it’s complicated. So for me, you know, two truths that I keep coming up is that on the one hand, this is a conflict that outsizedly affects women and children who are being killed.
There’s a man-made famine in Gaza. Experts on genocide have deemed Israel’s military offensive as a genocide. Another truth is Hamas is still on the ground. They’ve embedded themselves in civilian populations and they committed atrocities, which sparked the war. And you can have both truths in the same story, and one truth does not negate the other. And same hand, that truth does not justify the other.
And I think trusting readers that you can have those complicated truths and that they can come away with what they view as the outcome of the conflict or what their values are and how this conflict affects their values. We can trust them to make those conclusions.
Case Bryant: Yeah, I think that’s so important to be able to look at the complexity and the closer you get up to the situation, having someone like Ghada on the ground to do that is so helpful because, you know, I think she was one of the first journalists to write about how Gazans were starting to protest Hamas and they were frustrated with the way Hamas had provoked the war and was prosecuting the war.
And that took a lot of bravery to write a piece like that when Hamas still controls the Gaza strip. And you know, you’ve also talked about, as you noted, you know, Hamas fighting from within civilian areas and how that complicates the way the Israelis respond. And some people will say, well, you shouldn’t say that ’cause that just gives the Israelis a pass.
But if you don’t say it, then it looks like you don’t recognize it, or you’re intentionally hiding things like that. And [the] same thing is true on the other side. So I just really appreciate the way you two have worked together to try to provide that complete picture of what’s going on.
Luck: I think you can play this to other realms too, like even domestically here in the U.S., only viewing one side critically, but refuse to see the other side critically because you’re afraid of giving ammunition or giving space for misleading narratives, then you’re not doing your job.
I think it’s so important to kind of view all sides critically, even if it’s lopsided, right? And I think that’s one thing that Ghada and I work towards, even though it’s not the easiest thing.
Case Bryant: Yeah. And I wanna go back to a point you made earlier on, because I think sometimes it can sound contradictory.
Like, I’m all for objective journalism, but I also have biases. You know, it sounds like those two things are in conflict. I remember when I went over to Jerusalem to start that posting, I was thinking, “I’m gonna talk to people on both sides and be totally fair.” And I sort of thought I was gonna be some sort of, like, neutral robot, you know? And the more you get to know people, which is so important in our jobs for understanding where people are coming from, and that inevitably leads to friendships and joining them for weddings, or for dinners, or for their religious holidays, or whatever. As you get to know them, like naturally, what they’re going through tugs at your heartstrings.
And sometimes, you know, for me, in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, sometimes that would be on one side, and another time on the other side. And, it was really important for me to recognize those feelings and that I’m not a robot, I’m a human, and it’s right to be compassionate for the people you’re dealing with, and to have empathy, and to have a fuller understanding of what they’re going through, and that can make your journalism richer.
But it doesn’t mean you need to abandon the principle of objectivity. It means you need to come up with ways to discipline your journalistic processes so that you’re recognizing you are human, you do have these feelings, you know, but in your work, you’re bringing your journalistic toolkit and making sure you’re doing everything you can to present that complete view. Even as a human, you’re kind of grappling with the toll or the impact.
Luck: And I think also, especially with Monitor journalism, part of it is we have to tap into our empathy and our sympathy and, like, recognize that humanity. And I think a lot of our stories, no matter where we’re writing from, there’s a lot of humanity on the page – and that’s us feeling and being channels of empathy between our sources and the reader.
So you have to allow yourself to be vulnerable and open enough to kind of take in [a] source’s feelings and journey to allow readers to take part in that. But then you have to also kind of turn on that, you know, professional side where you have to be that rigorous journalist.
I think it’s always a balance, but also the humanity can anchor a story. So we’ve done multiple stories where previous ceasefires have broken down and we followed the reactions of Gazans and Israeli hostage families, and it was pretty much they were saying the same thing. They were both in anguish and wanted to enter the war, and they were both disappointed.
At the end of this most recent ceasefire, when it was finally sealed, we spoke to Gazen and Israelis. And it was interesting how the euphoria and joy was different. You know, so for Israelis it was almost a national celebration. For Gazans, they were still … I don’t want to say “too broken” to heal, but perhaps it was too raw and intense for them to feel joy.
And so we quoted one woman whose son was alive to see the last ceasefire, but he was killed in between the March ceasefire collapse and the current ceasefire. And I’m gonna mess up the quote, but she said that, you know, “I cannot feel joy. I cannot feel relief.” And so I think by exposing ourselves to those feelings, we can also get across a larger message to our readers.
So even in joy, there’s an imbalance between Israelis and Palestinians. So it’s tough ’cause there’s not a switch, right? There’s not a switch we can say, “I feel with these people who I’m breaking bread with, living with, spending time with. But now I need to be this objective journalist.”
But it’s a balance I think we learn. It’s weird because there’s no real clear line, right? But I think we just learn that now is the time to feel and a lot of those feelings, and now is the time to be really kind of objective in terms of where does this fit in this wider sphere that we’re writing about.
Case Bryant: And we were talking recently about our founder, Mary Baker Eddy, and the object that she gave us as the Monitor to “injure no man, but to bless all mankind,” and the incredible love behind that and how she demonstrated that in her own experience — including with a group of rather obnoxious reporters the year before the Monitor was founded.
And I think it was you who said something to the effect of, “we have an unbiased love for all the folks that we cover and for our readers.”
Luck: It’s love that we share, right? And it’s just, it doesn’t stop at a boundary or a language or a religion.
Case Bryant: Or a political view.
Luck: Or political view, right? And I think that’s really powerful about our stories and about our journalism. We were talking the other day about how when we speak with people, they really come away with feeling that they’ve been heard. You know, just the way that we ask questions, the way that we spend time and offer just respect and dignity and grace.
I think a lot of our work at times, you know, you’re busy dealing with all these crises and events and sometimes, it feels like you’re alone. As a reporter on the ground, I’m sure as you felt, when you’re navigating checkpoints and trying to meet people and things fall through and red tape.
But when you have this huge family that has your back, it’s a pillar of strength.
Case Bryant: And the readers are such an important part of that family, so I just want to include them in that as well. And I know so many of them are so grateful for the work that you’re doing, and we’re grateful for them reading and thinking about these ideas and sharing those with friends and just being part of this journey that we’re all on together.
Luck: And it’s a huge support, ’cause I get a lot of emails from readers and I think just as we’re struggling with some of these subjects and this conflict and this kind of moral issue, so are our readers. And I feel like we’re almost kind of sorting this out together on this journey, in terms of, you know, how do you see hope and progress in such a brutal conflict?
And those emails of support and sometimes just questions and just, it’s kind of [a] mutual exploring of what this means for humanity, has been a big part of how I’ve been able to process.
Case Bryant: Will you tell our listeners what you were saying last night about how before you even start the interview, what you do?
Luck: Well, I mean, before I start an interview, I really try to kind of make it feel like it’s just a conversation between two people and on the equal plane. So first off, I don’t take out my notebook, right? So if I’m gonna interview someone, we sit and we start talking. And first I’m very gracious, and I say a lot of Arabic phrases just kind of, you know, saying, “may God grant you health,” “may God make you happy,” “thank you so much.”
And then immediately I share about myself – about who I am and my story. You know, I come from the Midwest. I’ve lived in the Mideast for 18 years. I’m American, but I’m also Muslim. But I also work for a newspaper that was founded by a church. And kind of share a bit about myself. And then we just talk, you know, not an interview, I’m not recording notes, and we’ll have a 15-, 20-minute talk.
I share before I press someone to share with me. And then we have a conversation just between two people. There’s no dynamic of me trying to take information or an interrogation. And then we just have this lovely chat as two people meeting and kind of connecting.
I share about the Monitor’s focus on values and the importance of humanity and the importance of looking at how other people see the world, that we’re not coming here with a lens of we want to just take something real quick and support a thesis we already have, or a political viewpoint. We don’t have advertisers that are pressing us to do things a certain way.
And so when I kind of explain that framework and explain some of the stories that we do, people feel more relaxed, more at ease. And they kind of ... they get it, you know, they get the Monitor way of journalism even before they see a story. And then when we start asking questions, we’re asking questions that have never really been asked of before.
Like, “how do you see this event?” Or “how did this event make you view, you know, perhaps the larger issue of trust, or fairness, or even hope.” And so I think the combination of our mission, the way we ask questions, it kind of makes people walk away feeling that they’ve been respected and that their fellow humanity has been kind of recognized.
And I don’t think many people going away from interviews with other journalists necessarily feel that.
Case Bryant: Mm-hmm. That’s wonderful. Well, thanks so much for your work in the field for us.
Luck: Thank you so much for your support from one Middle East journalist to another. I really appreciate having someone with that background giving me full support.
[MUSIC]
Collins: So, let’s roll it back. Readers have asked how Taylor got his start on his beat. Here’s what he told us in late 2019.
Luck: I didn’t set out to be a journalist. I didn’t even study journalism. But I studied international relations in college. I knew I wanted to do something either in diplomacy or something in international relations. I wanted to learn Arabic. We didn’t have Arabic in my school, and on graduation I was like, OK, well, let me go try to learn some Arabic. And, you know, basically, as you know, as silly as this sounds, looked at a map and looked at, you know, the region and Jordan made the most sense geographically because it’s right in the middle. And linguistically it’s kind of right in the middle. But so I went out to Jordan and I got a job at the English newspaper there called The Jordan Times. And what made it perfect is the fact it was all Jordanians. I mean, all my colleagues, it was attached to an Arabic speaking newspaper called Al Rai Newspaper.
So literally all our conversations were in Arabic. All the editorial discussions were in Arabic. The interviews were in Arabic. So I was kind of put on the spot like you just had to speak it, you know, sink or swim, you know. But what made the whole experience special was that I wasn’t there to advance my career. I was just there to learn and listen. And more than just learning from the people, I was living with the people. They have a saying in Arabic that translates to “we have broken bread or salt.” So, you know, an important daily ritual. So just sitting around, having meals, relaxing and talking. So for me, literally I just hopped out from the Midwest to the Middle East with an open heart and open mind. And, you know, here I am today.
Collins: Taylor would become deeply immersed in the Middle East, using language proficiency to gain cultural fluidity and respect. He would travel widely. Taylor has gone particularly deep on Tunisia, in North Africa. But the Israeli-Palestinian conflict would of course keep drawing him in. In October 2024, around the one-year anniversary of the consequential Hamas attack on Israel, Taylor came on this podcast and spoke about working that story with Ghada.
Luck: It’s been a privilege to work with Ghada and she’s been not only our eyes and ears on the ground, but also our heart on the ground kind of guiding our stories.
At the beginning, I always was afraid that I’m bothering Ghada while she’s in the middle of field reporting, or, dealing with issues at home, or avoiding missile strikes, and I’m messaging her about where are the photo [captions], or I have a question on this part, so I always felt a little bit intrusive. I don’t know if it’s going to be a good time to call, I don’t know if the bandwidth will be good enough to send voice messages, so we just have this ongoing chat about what is going on, sending each other updates, and you know, sometimes, there are events where neither of us have the words, whether it’s an evacuation of all of Rafah, or if it’s a destruction of another hospital. But Ghada has been kind of my guide through all this, all this difficult, emotions that we have to ride through, I think, every single day. For me, it’s not even one percent of what she faces, but the fact that we’re able to have this ongoing nonstop conversation from morning to night, for me, it helps me process.
Collins: For her part, Ghada says she benefited from Taylor’s perspectives, which helped her explore angles that she herself might be too close to see. Here’s Ghada from that same podcast episode last year.
Abdulfattah: As the war escalated, I started to realize that the humanitarian crisis was more severe than we all anticipated and the emotional toll on myself and on the community that I belong to and on the beloved people was very profound. I started to center my writing and my reporting around the human stories and capturing the lived experiences of those who are affected by this war. And I felt that this approach is trying to connect the community and the people who are affected with the numbers. ...
[N]ot having international journalists allowed to enter Gaza is making it more challenging for us because I feel sometimes it’s a huge responsibility. I always think of and see and look for the very minute details that are happening around me. And I always ask myself, what if Taylor, for example, sees this specific event, how would he report on this? And what if he, for example, sees this story, how would he report on this specific story? … sometimes we’ve got a sense of normalcy for the events around us, but it’s not normal. So it’s always important to kind of defamiliarize the events that are happening around us too. Just saying, is this something that is familiar for international readers or is it something common for people?
Collins: Taylor’s reporting always seems to have at its roots some of that sense of universal experience – of yearning, for example. In 2022 he spoke on this show about a slow transformation in Saudi Arabia. This small anecdote really illustrates his openness to letting parts of stories find him.
Luck: When I was leaving the town of Abha, which is a town in the mountains, I was waiting at the airport to fly to Riyadh. And while I was sitting in the cafe in the airport, there were two younger women in their mid-twenties, and they were working on laptops waiting for their budget flight back to Riyadh. And so we struck up a conversation and they said that they were just, you know, they live and work in Riyadh, and normally they would take vacations outside Saudi Arabia with their families. But since the changes, they were able to take, you know, a girls’ weekend out just to kind of let off steam in Abha, in this very green and misty town. Four or five years ago, it was illegal for women to travel on their own without a male guardian. And the airports themselves used to be gender segregated. So the fact that these two women are just hanging out and taking a few selfie pics at the tarmac before they got on the plane like it was nothing, and the fact that no one in the airport batted an eye, that’s pretty cool. But all of a sudden when we’re talking about transformations, that is the transformation. It’s not about the dollars and the cents and the new gleaming skyscrapers that might be built. They became the story.
Collins: Stories of transformation come with setbacks, of course. Sometimes big ones. In July 2023, on one of Taylor’s earlier visits to the Monitor studio, I asked him about how his region’s old rifts, secular and religious, just seem to keep stealing away opportunities for what all people want: self-determination, and prosperity by some measure. I asked him then what signs he sees that the arc still somehow bends toward those things. About what evidence he sees of credible hope.
Luck: I definitely believe the arc bends towards progress, eventually. Because people at their hearts want a better life for themselves and a better life for their community. Oftentimes, it’s the dictators, it’s the far-right politicians, it’s the demagogues who are stirring up these reactive forces, trying to appeal to our worst natures. Because if there is change of progress in any sector, they see that as an eventual threat to them.
But despite this, I find across the Middle East, young people are finding a way. Politically, the avenues are closed, for now. But I’m finding young people across all these countries finding local issues and advocating for solutions. I’ve met young people who have developed rainwater catchment systems and cheap ways to dig wells to improve water availability for Jordanians. I’ve met young people who have come up with solutions to combat desertification in Tunisia. So one thing that’s kinda been fascinating, what these young people have done, they’ve said, basically: “OK. We can’t talk about democracy, because we know we will be put in jail before we finish posting our next Facebook post.” But what they’ve done is, they’ve tied these local community issues to the national strategies of these countries, to make it even harder for these regimes to shut them down. Tying something into food security, tying something into energy, tying something into women’s empowerment. And so they’re finding their own little ways to make change and biding their time until perhaps changes on the ground could eventually turn to political change. They say, where there’s a will, there’s a way. But I find, with these young people, where there’s hope, there’s a way.
[MUSIC]
Collins: Thanks to our listeners, you can find show notes with links to full episodes we excerpted here – including ones hosted by Samantha Laine Perfas, Ken Kaplan, Amelia Newcomb, and me – at CSMonitor.com/WhyWeWroteThis. This episode was hosted by me, Clay Collins, and produced by Mackenzie Farkus. Jingnan Peng is also a producer on the show. Our sound engineer for this mashup was Alyssa Britton. Original music is by Noel Flatt. Produced by Ǵ. Copyright 2025.