When journalist Christiane Amanpour’s ex-husband, former United States diplomat James Rubin, defended her and her career on a recent episode of her podcast, The Ex Files, the moment felt refreshing.
Rubin said he had watched with “horror, shock, and fury” as people attacked Amanpour over her reporting on the Iran war. Critics, he suggested, did not understand journalism. He defended her dramatically, loudly and without a pause. Amanpour responded with an embarrassed laugh, “I’m blushing. All I can tell you is that I’m being defended by my ex.” This was by no means Rubin’s first appearance on the podcast; he is a frequent guest on his ex-wife’s show, and the two can often be seen in public together.
They even laughed about a rug Rubin got in the divorce settlement that Amanpour had sent his way. It was an unusual moment because we are no longer used to seeing camaraderie, that, too, public, between former partners.
The couple were married for two decades and, by most accounts, parted with dignity. Listening to Rubin speak with visible admiration about her courage and professional integrity, one could hear the familiarity of someone who had spent years observing her work up close. Rubin was also a journalist before he served as assistant secretary of state for public affairs in the Clinton administration from 1997 to 2000. He worked for Sky News and Bloomberg in the past.
In an age where public breakups often devolve into spectacle, the exchange felt almost old-fashioned: two exes who clearly still respect each other and are on good, in fact, great terms.
Yet the reaction online revealed something curious. Many people marvelled at the civility of it all, the idea that an ex-husband could publicly defend an ex-wife.
Amanpour and Rubin had two decades of shared life, professional observation, raising a child and navigating the pressures of demanding careers. It is hardly strange if that history produced long-term admiration and respect. Yet the public response treated the moment as if it were rare and unusual.
Perhaps that says less about their relationship and more about the cultural scripts we have come to expect. Divorce, particularly among public figures, is supposed to involve distance, bitterness or strategic silence. Civility can appear almost suspiciously gracious.
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Peeling back the layers of the Amanpour moment
But there was another layer, one that extends beyond marriage and into the realities faced by women in public life.
In Amanpour’s case, Rubin’s defence came after critics accused her of not taking the “right” side in the debate surrounding Iran. His response was blunt: journalists are not supposed to take sides. The job is to question power, not amplify activism. But the fact that the conversation unfolded in the context of a woman defending her professional integrity adds another dimension.
Amanpour is not simply a public figure. She is one of the most recognisable journalists in the world, known for reporting from conflict zones and interviewing some of the most powerful leaders of the past three decades. Her career and fame are built on asking uncomfortable questions, including those of regimes that have barred her from entering their countries.
Yet even someone as well-respected as her is not immune to the relentless scrutiny that greets women in visible roles.
Criticism of journalists is not unusual, nor should it be. But the intensity and tone of attacks directed at women reporters often carry a different charge. Their work is not just debated — their legitimacy is questioned, and their motives are dissected. Their credibility often becomes a public referendum.
Women often find their work filtered through personal narratives and choices — their marriages, divorces, choice to have children, even clothes. Their professional credibility can become entangled with their personal lives in ways that rarely happen to men.
The irony of the Amanpour moment was that while Rubin was defending her work, the public conversation also shifted to their relationship. The bottom line became the ex-husband who stood up for his ex-wife.
It is a charming detail, but it is also telling.
For many observers, the idea of a man publicly praising a woman he is no longer married to still carries a note of surprise. That reflects the assumption that separation must erase affection and that respect cannot survive the end of a relationship.
Yet anyone who has spent decades with another person knows that relationships rarely disappear so neatly. They evolve. Sometimes they leave behind resentment, but sometimes there can be mutual respect and admiration.
Views are personal.
(Edited by Insha Jalil Waziri)