Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

David Ross: Photojournalist Tom Stoddart was a breed apart and risked his life to capture horrors of war

Tom Stoddart risked his life to capture the horrors of war. Photo by Nils Jorgensen/Shutterstock
Tom Stoddart risked his life to capture the horrors of war. Photo by Nils Jorgensen/Shutterstock

The death was reported last month of an important figure in international journalism, who was probably unknown to many. Tom Stoddart from Morpeth in Northumbria, died of cancer at the age of 67, having survived numerous war zones and disaster areas.

He had wanted to be a reporter, but when he applied for a job at the Berwick Advertiser, the only position available was as an apprentice photographer.

He was to go on to have an outstanding career in photo-journalism. His images were published in prestigious of titles around the globe. Many carried fulsome obituaries in recent weeks.

The Toronto Globe and Mail’s explained: “From the battlefields of Bosnia and Iraq to the crumbling Berlin Wall, he spent four decades chronicling a world of conflict and change.”

Tom Stoddart portrayed ‘the fury of war’

The Washington Post ‘s tribute was headed “British photojournalist who portrayed human dignity amid the fury of war.”

The Times recalled “In April 1987, Tom Stoddart and the Sunday Times journalist Marie Colvin travelled to war-ravaged Lebanon in search of the kidnapped Church of England envoy Terry Waite. Though they did not find him they managed to bribe a Shia militia commander to allow them into a besieged Palestinian refugee camp. The pair were afforded a 60-second window of opportunity to make a run for the camp without being shot at.”

In an interview carried by the Newcastle Chronicle in 2019, Tom Stoddart spoke of the camp. “The conditions were terrible. People were eating rats and being shot and killed on a daily basis.”

Marie Colvin, who was to be killed in 2012 covering the horror of Syria, smuggled rolls of his film out in her underwear on their hazardous return. The photos made front pages. They contributed to the camp being liberated within days, the Red Cross moving in and evacuating the injured.

The Guardian recalled that Stoddart did not like colour photography, regularly quoting the Canadian photographer Ted Grant saying: “If you photograph in colour, you see the colour of their clothes, but if you photograph in black and white, you see the colour of their soul.”

Photography had a global impact

Seeing in black and white the desperation in people’ s eyes amidst the human carnage of the break-up of Yugoslavia, for example, one could understand Stoddart’s preference. He was in Sarajevo in 1992 to show the world the human cost of the siege of the city imposed by Bosnian Serb forces, the longest siege in modern history. His photography again had global impact.

Later that year he returned to the city and was injured during a bombardment. He was evacuated and spent a year recovering, but went back in 1993 to document the hardship of life in Sarajevo in the bitter winter. He later said he was drawn to that conflict because of the “dignified and resolute way that these people conducted themselves.”

That people like Tom Stoddart, Marie Colvin and others have been willing to risk their lives to bear witness to what men with guns can do, has meant the rest of us can’t claim we never knew. They have been a breed apart.

Journalists are a breed apart

So too it would seem are another group of journalists, those who cover the royal family. They have been the subject of a two-part BBC documentary, the Princes and the Press. It examined the “complicated” relationship, official and unofficial, between royal reporters and princes William and Harry. The tabloids, the ‘serious’ papers and magazines were represented.

A former private eye who claimed to have worked for the News of the World, told of phone hacking and surveillance of a former girlfriend of Harry’s. The Royal Correspondent of the Times talked about his exclusive on royal aides complaining of Meghan’s bullying.

The palace (the collective term for the royals and their teams of advisers), was reportedly furious about the documentary, and in particular the suggestion there had been a briefing war between William and Harry.

But if the programmes left us wondering about what the princes are really like, Rachel Cooke, the New Statesman’s estimable TV reviewer left her readers in no doubt about the journalists featured: “If Harry at moments comes over like a spoilt brat, he’s still more sinned against than sinning. Some of the parasitical gargoyles on parade here only make their weird, royal semi-necrophilia seem all the more repellent by talking so very earnestly about it, as if they were reporting not the activities of a highly peculiar family, but Watergate or the My Lai massacre.”

The world they inhabit, is certainly far removed from Tom Stoddart’s.


David Ross is a veteran Highland journalist and author of an acclaimed book about his three decades of reporting on the region

Read more by David Ross: