Modern Warfare Stinks
Welcome To Sarajevo, Michael Nicholson, Hyperion, 1993.
Michael Nicholson has seen everything; after 30 years as a war correspondent in all of the world's hot spots, he's the most jaded of observers by the time he attends the siege of Sarajevo. Then, everything changes.
Possibly the most striking thing about this book is the genuine passion with which it is written. It would be easy to pass this off as a cheap attempt to make money from a truly unusual experience by the author, but Nicholson's writing belies that. One can tell that the horrific violence and many, many innocent victims of the Bosnian war have affected the author deeply, and it's refreshing to read an account by someone whose job involves presentation and spin-control for maximum ratings, but who is clearly affected by the tragedies surrounding him, to the point where, totally out of character for a foreign correspondent, he actually does something about it. Small though the gesture of adopting one orphan child from a dangerous war zone may seem, Nicholson makes it a symbol of compassion and his final inability to retain his journalistic attachment. Contrary to what many writers might feel, it is my belief that it is only in the moment of actually involving himself in the story that the author gains his true humanity.
Mechanically, the story has some problems. In particular, certain things are repeated unnecessarily and there is a small feeling of disconnection - like an orchestral piece arranged in too much of a hurry, there are some jarring discontinuities. But despite that, this is a great book, because it outlines the true emotional journeys of two real people. One, the jaded narrator, makes a journey of discovery through his own barrier of detachment, and finds on the other side, resolve to do one concrete good deed. And, surprisingly, he succeeds. Does this make a whit of difference to the ongoing suffering in Bosnia as a whole? Probably not. But as a symbol for the rest of us, and a moral parable about courage and convictions, it is hard to beat.
The other principle character, Natasha, is simply an orphan girl who has the good fortune to be given a second chance at a meaningful life. The simple act of adopting a child in need is a greater good work than most of us will ever do; this is laudable, even considered independently of the rest of the story.
Is there spin-control here? Of course - the author is a journalist. But any habitual attempts and spin are really overshadowed by the obvious passion the author has for his subject. Foreign news correspondents often see as much or more of the carnage of war as those on the front-lines, and it is clear that after so many years of reporting on carnage and then finally making his one small protest, Nicholson's book is the final cathartic experience.
Some effort is spent on the moral and ethical issues of wartime adoption. The author makes a good point when he wonders what sort of adoptive home could possibly be worse for a young girl than the squalid remains of a bombed-out orphanage in a war zone. It makes you wonder if the high amount of scrutiny directed at erstwhile adoptive parents isn't a little overdone.
This book could very much benefit from an updated edition with further chapters about the continued state of turmoil in the former Yugoslavia. That the book is subtitled "Natasha's Story" militates for the argument that it certainly can't be considered complete until we know what happens to Natasha as she comes of age to make her own decisions about her life and heritage as it pertains to her origins in the beseiged city of Sarajevo.
Despite the editorial problems, this book is gritty, and employes sophisticated analysis of the Bosnain war as only a person who has been there on the ground could perform. This book has a big heart and a keen brain, and is probably the best commentary extant on the horrors of the Bosnian conflict. It brings to life the reality of ethnic cleansing and the military targeting of civilians in a way that cannot help but affect any sane and thoughtful reader.
Thomas K. Burkholder, October 21, 1998.