By Martina Thiele and Boris Romahn
The decision to continue the »Book Journalism« section (see Journalism Research 3-4/2025) has been met with widespread approval. We have also received many tips about recently published books. On the one hand, this is wonderful and very helpful, but on the other hand, we have to decide which ten books to choose from the multitude of new publications. Journalists are obviously very productive, even when it comes to longer forms such as books. We, Martina Thiele (MT, University of Tübingen) and Boris Romahn (Bro, University of Salzburg), are pleased to recommend a diverse selection of books by journalists that are well worth reading. They cover current and historical topics and offer a wide range of perspectives on war and peace, fact and fiction, homelands and identities.
Victoria Amelina (2025): Blick auf Frauen den Krieg im Blick. Ein Tagebuch von Krieg und Gerechtigkeit [Looking at Women Looking at War. A diary of war and justice]. With a foreword by Margaret Atwood. Translated from English by Steffen Beilich and Andreas Rostek. Berlin: edition.fotoTAPETA, 304 pages, 22 euros
Ukrainian writer Victoria Amelina, born in Lviv in 1986, became a human rights activist and journalist as a result of Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine. She researched war crimes, documented injustices, and spoke with soldiers, lawyers, war reporters, and activists. Amelina, mother of a then 12-year-old son, was killed in Kramatorsk in the summer of 2023 by a Russian missile attack. Friends and colleagues ensured the publication of her war reports, interviews, articles, and diary entries. Some of it is still unfinished, remains fragmentary – and is all the more shocking precisely because of this incompleteness. Amelina’s texts have been compiled into a carefully edited volume with numerous references, although the German title is missing a comma or a dash. Margaret Atwood wrote the foreword to the book Looking at Women, Looking at War, which was first published in English, and notes: »Her writing style is fleeting, vivid, intimate and personal, detailed and sensual. She thus follows in the honorable footsteps of earlier war reporters such as Martha Gellhorn, who wrote: ›I must report on this war …‹.«
Through her writing, Victoria Amelina has ensured that the everyday horror people in Ukraine have been experiencing for four years now is recorded. We learn how displacement, destruction, and death affect people. Amelina, who was a keen observer, noted: »It is striking how much we all laugh during this terrible war. Perhaps not in front of foreign reporters, who mostly expect Ukrainian women to display despair or heroism. The truth is that sometimes, when we are tired of crying or simply cannot cry, we laugh like crazy, as if to prove that we Ukrainians are here and still alive.« (MT)
Artur Weigandt (2025): Für Euch würde ich kämpfen. Mein Bruch mit dem Pazifismus [I would fight for you. My break with pacifism]. Munich: C.H. Beck, 208 pages, 18 euros
At the beginning of the year, the German Bundeswehr sent out questionnaires to all young men born in 2008 to gauge their general interest in military service. The discussion in Germany about reintroducing compulsory military service is directly linked to the threat posed by Russia’s war against Ukraine – and also to concerns about the future of NATO following Trump’s verbal attacks on European allies.
With Für Euch würde ich kämpfen Artur Weigandt presents a politically very timely book. Starting point is his personal departure from radical pacifism in light of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Weigandt, who was born in Uspenska in Kazakhstan in 1994 and raised in Germany, combines autobiographical reflection with political analysis in his new book, as he did in his debut Die Verräter [The traitors]. He studied in Frankfurt, attended the German School of Journalism in Munich, and – wanting to do something meaningful – participated as an interpreter in the training of Ukrainian soldiers in Germany. In Für euch würde ich kämpfen, Weigandt describes his inner conflict between moral conviction and political reality, critically examining classic pacifist positions and discussing issues of military deterrence, alliance policy, and European security. He offers disturbing insights into everyday life in Ukraine during the war and into trite German debates about arms deliveries and military preparedness. Für Euch würde ich kämpfen is committed opinion journalism in book form. (MT)
James Poniewozik (2025): Alle Scheinwerfer auf mich! Die Geburt Donald Trumps aus dem Fernsehen und der Zerfall Amerikas [Audience of one: Trump, television, and the fracturing of America]. Translated from American English by Sean Carty and Clara Schilling. Berlin: Edition Tiamat, 423 pages, 32 euros
James Poniewozik begins the German first edition of his 2019 work Audience of one with the following scene: »On February 28, 2025, the former star of the sitcom Servant of the People met with the former host of NBC’s most successful primetime reality show to discuss the future of a besieged Eastern European democracy.« (p. 7) This meeting between Volodymyr Zelenskyi and the re-elected Donald Trump ended, as we know, in a disaster broadcast live on television, in which Trump and his vice president, J. D. Vance, accused Zelenskyi of ingratitude and threatened to withdraw all humanitarian and military aid from Ukraine. Poniewozik notes: »Trump ended his tirade on a strangely cheerful note: ›This is good television.‹« (p. 7) For those unfamiliar with Trump’s role in The Apprentice, this was a frightening episode of new realpolitik, but for viewers of the reality tv series, it was a familiar scene: In a room not unlike the Oval Office, Donald Trump demotes candidates to submissive supplicants. They don’t know what he actually wants. They fear his angry outbursts and candidate dismissals. Trump, however, according to Poniewozik, always knows what the camera wants: conflict.
The author, a television critic for The New York Times since 2015, analyzes Trump’s path to becoming a public figure and successful media personality as an American media biography in three parts, following the logic of private television: the background, the antihero, and presidential television. He tells two closely intertwined stories: one about television and how it has changed in the current era of tech monopolies and fragmented audiences, and the other about Donald Trump, »who, over the course of a four-decade television career, has developed a symbiotic relationship with the medium« (p. 20) and who, like no other, has used the media of his time »to become a brand, a star, a demagogue, and a president.« (p. 21)
Poniewozik makes a compelling argument based on the specific intertwining of media and politics in the US: »If you follow American media culture throughout Trump’s career, you will better understand how Trump could have happened. And if you understand how Trump happened, you will better understand what has become of us.« (pp. 21-22) The author comes to a sobering conclusion and predicts: »Donald Trump will always have happened. We will always be the country that elected him. He will appear in TV reruns and children’s history books. There will probably be a Donald J. Trump library, even if it’s just a VCR set.« (p. 402) At present, however, the problem is that Trump, with his narcissistic presidential show, not only receives attention but can also force it. »The whole world is now the backdrop for Trump’s reality show. And President Zelensky is not the only one being treated badly.« (p. 12) Can we withdraw our attention from Trump? (Bro)
Alexander Steinbach and Alfred Schwarz (Eds.) (2025): Über Morgen. Hilft uns heute das Gestern? ORF-Reporter:innen in Dialogen auf vier Kontinenten [About tomorrow. Does yesterday help us today? ORF reporters in dialogues on four continents]. Vienna: Mandelbaum, 228 pages, 22 euros
Nine reporters of the Austrian public broadcaster ORF discuss global challenges with colleagues »from all over the world.« Some of them are retired, others are still in the middle of their careers. They talk about what was and what is to come, about journalism, democracy, old and new authoritarianism. But also about favorite dishes and books, artificial intelligence, and hope.
The dialogue format works well for this book, crucially because of the people who engage in the dialogue. Joana Radzyner and Barbara Coudenhove-Kalergi talk to each other. They conclude: »It’s not either/or.« Margit Maximilian asks Wycliffe Muga: »Why is Africa so poor?« Carola Schneider and Irina Scherbakowa agree: »If Europe allows the war in Ukraine to end with a victory for Putin, then the whole of Europe will have lost.« Eugen Freund and Ted Koppel are concerned about the North Atlantic Alliance: »The idea that Europe can rely on the US today is completely over.« Alfred Schwarz meets Czech writer Radka Denemarková, and talks with her about fears for the future, hoping that the swallows will return once again. Renate Zeller Heilig and Ángel Verdugo reflect on Mexico and populism worldwide, while Robert Wiesner and Heide Schmidt discuss political parties and civil society. Alexander Steinbach interviews Japanese social philosopher Kenishi Mishima on migration; Gerhard Seifried and Stefan Wachtel ponder freedom of expression and censorship; Alexander Steinbach and Peter Riedl quote the insight of a Buddhist nun: »Without me, life is very simple.« Alfred Schwarz and Michael Christen then address the question of whether AI makes life easier – thereby coming full circle, because in his foreword, Andreas Pfeifer demanded, despite and because of all the AI debates: »There is no way around thinking for yourself.«
Editors Alexander Steinbach and Alfred Schwarz, both formerly employed by ORF, have once again produced a wonderful book after their previous volume, Fischen mit Lech Wałęsa. Weltpolitik aus erster Hand. ORF-Reporter:innen erzählen (2025) [Fishing with Lech Wałęsa: First-hand global politics. ORF reporters tell their stories]. Their current work is a contemporary document, a journalistic reference book, and a political reader all at once. (MT)
Sabine Adler (2025): Israel, Fragen an ein Land [Israel, questions for a country]. Berlin: Ch. Links Verlag, 270 pages, 24 euros
Sabine Adler, a reporter for German national broadcaster Deutschlandfunk, has been reporting from Eastern Europe and the Middle East for decades. In her new book Israel, Fragen an ein Land, she talks to people she has known for many years, some of them for decades. One of them is Ruth Goldmann, a Holocaust survivor and doctor who is almost 100 years old. Many members and acquaintances of the Goldmann family were also willing to talk. Despite the author’s restraint, Israel, Fragen an ein Land is a very personal examination of a country and the people who live there. At the same time, the book offers a great deal of nuance and detailed knowledge.
Thematically, it covers a wide range of topics – from the founding of the state to dealing with the Shoah, the Middle East conflict, the role of religion and the military, and internal social tensions between secular and religious groups. Adler contrasts political decisions with the views of her interlocutors. She avoids assigning blame, focusing instead on historical accuracy, contextualization, and differentiation. The contradictions within Israeli society become clear. It also becomes clear how the external perception of Israel has changed since the Hamas massacre on October 7, 2023. After the complete destruction of the Gaza Strip and the displacement and killing of tens of thousands of civilians, little remains of the initial international solidarity with Israel and understanding for a military strike against Hamas terrorists.
What remains are questions: »Is coexistence still possible?«, »Who sees the victims on the other side?«, »Is this still democratic?«, »Is Israel being criticized too harshly?«, »Was it all for nothing?«, »What could stop the hatred?« Sabine Adler and those she interviews do not provide easy answers. Adler gives space to tell stories. She listens, driven by a desire to understand. In this way, the book promotes understanding without glossing over conflicts; it informs without lecturing. And it is suitable both as an introduction for readers who are dealing with Israel in depth for the first time as well as for a politically interested audience. (MT)
Muhlmann, Géraldine (2025): Zur Verteidigung von Fakten [In defense of facts]. Translated from French by Lina Theiß. Vienna: Passagen, 168 pages, 25 euros
Géraldine Muhlmann’s book Zur Verteidigung von Fakten addresses one of the central questions of our time: How can fact-based journalism survive in a media landscape characterized by disinformation, populist distortions, and an almost unmanageable flood of images and texts? The French philosopher draws on Hannah Arendt’s reflections on factuality, to which Arendt attributed an almost material, physical force. Muhlmann takes up this idea and examines how this force is threatening to disappear under the conditions of digital public spheres.
The starting point for her analysis is the diagnosis that fake news is not only a political instrument, but also a consequence of structural changes in journalism. Media outlets increasingly focusing on speed, storytelling, and entertainment have accepted mistakes and exaggerations as part of the business. Added to this is the ongoing »virtualization of the world«: The sheer volume of news in the broadest sense makes it difficult to grasp reality with the senses. Muhlmann observes that real events such as wars and crises often elicit less empathy than their fictional representations. The philosopher and presenter also criticizes the current culture of media discourse. According to Muhlmann, talk shows, debate formats, and expert panels generate a permanent palaver in which opinions clash, while facts take a back seat.
The author reminds us that journalism was once established in liberal societies to protect »factual material.« She traces the shift from the opinion-driven press of the 19th century to the information-focused press, which elevated objectivity and factual accuracy to central ideals. Rituals of verification, Pulitzer’s famous demand for »accuracy,« the journalistic »nose for news,« and the detail-obsessed New Journalism are examples of the attempt to portray reality as precisely, objectively, and impartially as possible. At the same time, she takes a critical look at Jürgen Habermas, whose concept of the deliberative public sphere she considers as too narrowly focused on rational discourse, ignoring other dimensions of public debate such as emotion and dissent.
The concluding chapters use numerous examples from France and the US to illustrate under how much pressure journalism has come: Deliberately constructed »facts,« growing hatred of media professionals, and a noticeable loss of social legitimacy threaten the foundations of the profession. Muhlmann therefore advocates a return to the sensory dimension of factuality – to looking closely and being present, perceiving details, and ultimately the ability to make reality tangible and comprehensible.
The book offers numerous stimulating observations and clever historical classifications. However, the presentation sometimes seems inconsistent: Zur Verteidigung von Fakten fluctuates between essayistic lecture fragments on theories of publicity and practical analyses of current problems in journalism. But Muhlmann’s reflections are interesting when she not only laments the crisis in journalism, but also addresses its cultural and economic causes. Muhlmann’s concluding thought, that facts – like dreams – must be defended against the temptation of quick certainties, succinctly sums up the book’s concern. Zur Verteidigung von Fakten is thus above all a philosophical wake-up call: a reminder that reality must be constantly re-perceived, re-examined, and re-told. (Bro)
Aline Abboud and Nana Heymann (2025): Barfuß in Tetas Garten. Berlin, mein Libanon und ich [Barefoot in Teta’s garden. Berlin, My Lebanon and Me]. Berlin: Ullstein, 256 pages, 22 euros
Barfuß in Tetas Garten is a very personal account of the East German-Lebanese origins of journalist and national newscast presenter of the Tagesthemen Aline Abboud. Born in East Berlin in 1988 to a Lebanese father and German mother, she recalls summer vacations in Lebanon with her grandparents and relatives. Abboud vividly describes family rituals, smells, and sounds. She combines these autobiographical passages with reflections on migration, racism, and belonging, life between two cultures, and the question of identity in an increasingly polarized society. Abboud is convinced »that the term ›migration background‹ [a common term in German] says more about the society we live in than about ourselves.« (p. 14)
The media reports that appeared in 2021, when Abboud moved from public broadcaster ZDF to the ARD’s evening newscast Tagesthemen, focused on precisely that: the migration history, origin, age, and gender of the »newcomer« who, at just 33 years of age, was now set to host one of Germany’s most important news programs after presenter Pinar Atalay. For journalistic reasons, Abboud can understand the reduction to these points, which are probably the most interesting, and she also describes herself as a »migrant« and an »Ossi« (East German). But her book is an attempt to go beyond two or three keywords about herself. She talks about her journalistic work, news stories that have shaken her, and the expectations of her colleagues, who assumed she could speak Arabic. Abboud, who is from Berlin, grapples with her »Ossi-ness,« even though she hardly experienced the German Democractic Republic (GDR), and with her time in school, which was not very happy. And she tells of her father, who, when he visited his parents in Lebanon, did not know if and when he would see them again.
Abboud’s descriptions are so multifaceted and colorful that the photos in the middle of the book are not really necessary – but they are beautiful and insightful nonetheless! The author dedicates Barfuß in Tetas Garten to her grandmother, whose warmth she misses, and to her extended family. However, she dedicates the book in particular to her daughter, who was born when Abboud was trying to structure the book’s text together with her friend Nana Heymann. Memories cannot be easily squeezed into a structure, but that’s not a bad thing. Not all gardens need to have neat flower beds. (MT)
Can Dündar (2025): Ich traf meinen Mörder. Ein Journalist und die dunklen Seiten der Macht [I met my killer. A journalist and the dark sides of power]. Translated from Turkish by Sabine Adatepe. Berlin: Galiani, 201 pages, 23 euros
Can Dündar’s book I met my killer: A journalist and the dark sides of power is a personal account, a political document of our times, and a suspenseful feature story. The Turkish journalist, who has been living in exile for years, describes his encounter with a man who was once commissioned to kill him – a situation reminiscent of true crime literature, but based on facts.
The book focuses on the conversations Dündar had with Serkan Kurtulus in a Buenos Aires prison, together with a television crew of the German national broadcaster ZDF. He reports with remarkable sobriety and detail on the structures of this »organization,« which includes people from politics, the secret service, the judiciary, the police, and the mafia. Particularly striking is the matter-of-factness with which Kurtulus describes how violence against journalists is considered a legitimate means of intimidation. The fact that he refused the contract for killing and later became the target of an international manhunt and political threats lends the story a certain tragedy: who becomes the perpetrator or victim depends on the whims of those in power in a system of terror.
Dündar links the prison conversations to his own story. His persecution was triggered when he reported on secret arms deliveries by the Turkish secret service to Syria in 2015. This was followed by pretrial detention, an assassination attempt in front of a courthouse, a prison sentence for alleged espionage, and finally exile: Dündar was granted political asylum and has been living in Berlin since 2016. The biographical passages lend the book a depressing authenticity, as they make clear the price that investigative journalism can have in authoritarian systems.
In places, the book reads like a thriller. The drama of the prison conversations, the descriptions of secret operations, and the constant threat create suspense. However, the true impact comes from the reality of the events. It is precisely this proximity to the documentary form that is one of the book’s strengths.
However, the title and the repeated reference to Kurtulus as a »murderer« are somewhat weak. Legally speaking, he is a man who allegedly received a contract to commit murder, not the actual assassin Murat Sahin. This exaggeration is somewhat at odds with the otherwise thoughtful and nuanced presentation.
Dündar repeatedly returns to the question of whether his high level of personal commitment was worth it. His answer is clear: only if someone is prepared to take risks is it possible to uncover the truth. I met my killer is more than the description of an assassination attempt or an extraordinary encounter. It is a powerful report on the threat to press freedom, the intertwining of power and violence – and a testimony to the courage it takes to write about it all nonetheless. (Bro)
Katja Gloger and Georg Mascolo (2025): Das Versagen. Eine investigative Geschichte der deutschen Russlandpolitik [The failure. An investigative history of German policy toward Russia]. Berlin: Ullstein, 496 pages, 26.99 euros
»Russia is a friendly European country.« (p. 11) This statement by Vladimir Putin raised high hopes during the Russian president’s first state visit to Germany in 2001. Today, in light of the war of aggression against Ukraine and the autocratic dictatorship in Russia, known as Putinism, Putin’s words seem like pure mockery. And today we also know that Putin’s speech in the German Bundestag at the time was written by the German industrial manager and senior civil servant Horst Teltschik. Putin had asked Teltschik, who once negotiated German reunification with Chancellor Kohl, to do so.
In their meticulously researched history of German policy toward Russia, Katja Gloger and Georg Mascolo trace how countless political misjudgments have been made since Putin’s presidency began in 2000. Many voices who issued warnings were not heard or could not get through. This is surprising insofar as Putin showed the world from day one of his rule that war is his political weapon of choice and that enemies, at that time the Autonomous Republic of Chechnya, must be »exterminated like vermin« (p. 14). Nevertheless, German politicians, as former GDR civil rights activist Werner Schulz criticized at the time, celebrated Putin as »Gorbachev’s grandson« and did not recognize him as »the KGB’s protégé« (p. 15).
Gloger and Mascolo look behind the political and economic scenes, reveal the causes and consequences of Putin’s rule, and dig through countless files that were sometimes made available to them in a »surprisingly unbureaucratic« manner (p. 17), and sometimes denied without explanation. They talk to contemporary witnesses – a chancellor (not Gerhard Schröder, but Olaf Scholz), ministers, diplomats, high-ranking Bundeswehr and NATO officers, and even the current German President Frank Walter Steinmeier. In doing so, the authors succeed in tracing Putin’s biography as »the steepest career in post-Soviet Russia« (p. 18), making it clear that he has always been a man of the secret service. To this day, he continues to work with intelligence methods. Gloger and Mascolo use key milestones to show when, where, and how German policy toward Russia failed, for example in the Minsk peace process, in decisions regarding the the Nord Stream 1 and 2 pipelines, and in Steinmeier’s 2008 suggestion for a »partnership for modernization.«
In addition to intensive investigative research and detailed documentation of sources and individuals mentioned in a total of 90 pages, there are three major merits that make this fact-filled book worth reading: First, Gloger and Mascolo make it clear that Putin is not only waging war against Ukraine, but also against what he considers a morally degenerate West. His Russia and he know no boundaries, which is why we are living in an unpredictable and dangerous present. It is therefore not enough to analyze past failures; rather, lessons must be learned for future decisions. Second, the book does not aim to engage in »personal bashing« and does not pillory politicians and journalists as failures when it comes to Russia. Gloger and Mascolo acknowledge the efforts of many political actors involved with Russia to engage in trust-building dialogue. And thirdly: »It is imperative that we come to terms with Germany’s policy toward Russia, again and again, and also because of our own history« (p. 24). (Bro)
Dorothee Krings (2025): Tage aus Glas [Days of glass]. Hamburg: HarperCollins, 304 pages, 24 euros
Dorothee Krings brings abstract concepts such as »structural change« and »transformation« to life in her novel Tage aus Glas. It deals with the labor disputes at the beginning of the 20th century. In 1901, glassmakers across the German Empire go on strike. The workers at the Gerresheim glassworks and their wives, who toil in the weaving mill, also decide to put their tools down. With fatal consequences, as the heavy, unhealthy work of the glassblowers is soon replaced by machines. The hope for a different, better life is shattered.
This historical novel is based on extensive journalistic research. It tells the story of two women from different social backgrounds whose lives intersect. Bille, the daughter of a glassblower, who wants to emigrate with her boyfriend Adam, and Leonie, the daughter of the company’s doctor. Both women see America as the promised land. But the price for a self-determined life is high.
Krings, who works as an editor at the German newspaper Rheinische Post, succeeds in portraying social conflicts in a nuanced way, including those within the working class and the aspiring bourgeoisie. In places, the novel reads like a feature story focusing on social justice; the dialogues sound authentic, and the descriptions of hardship and despair, but also of courage and class pride, are not exaggerated. Focusing on the women provides yet another insight. But the author also impressively depicts the inner turmoil of the men torn between calling for industrial action or being reviled as strikebreakers. According to Krings, the speech by the worker Oschi on page 169 is based on the speech given by Krupp plant manager Helmut Laakmann on November 30, 1987, when the future of the steelworks in Duisburg-Rheinhausen was at stake.
Changes in point of view, detailed descriptions, and numerous adjectives in Tage aus Glas may at times overwhelm readers, and some things may seem stereotypical in Krings’ first novel, but the author’s precise knowledge of local history, the characterization of the protagonists, and her artful handling of how being shapes consciousness are convincing. (MT)
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Citation
Martina Thiele / Boris Romahn: Must read: Books by journalists. In: Journalism Research, Vol. 9 (1), 2026, pp. 68-77. DOI: 10.1453/2569-152X-12026-15961-en
ISSN
2569-152X
DOI
https://doi.org/10.1453/2569-152X-12026-15961-en
First published online
April 2026