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August 31, 2007
The 1994 Pulitzer Prize photo by Paul Watson (see previous entry) was published widely by the Associated Press, and Time magazine ran a version of the photo that was digitally altered (to reduce the shock). That image is credited for shocking the US public into such a state of outrage that the Clinton administration began almost immediate withdrawl from Somalia. However, the photographer believes that the political sting created by that photograph became responsible, however indirectly, with Clinton's refusal to intervene in Rwanda, despite very different political and humanitarian situations. The powerful photograph affected positive change, but also prevented much needed action in another situation — for fear of a similar kind of photograph surfacing from Rwanda. You can hear how heavy the guilt weighs on the photographer as he talks in the interview.
I listened to the interview with Paul Watson, which I learned about from this blog. I feel sorry that Mr. Watson continues to be tormented by doubt over his decision to take the Mogadishu photograph. In a situation such as his at that moment, there is not time to reflect at length; to decide afterwards to release the image is another matter, but I believe he acted both correctly and courageously in doing that. He was aware that the photograph would be, at the least, controversial.
But no photographer, no writer, no painter -- no artist and no reporter -- can be responsible for all the repercussions of a creative act. An act that stirs no waves is one of dubious value; photos of cute puppies have their place in the world, and so do light-hearted humorous essays. But so have incendiary photos, articles, and speeches. Without them much momentous change for the good would likely not have taken place; and by their very nature they carry hazard for their creators.
I don't believe Mr. Watson should be held responsible, by himself or anybody else, for failure of a government to condemn atrocities. If a government or its leaders hesitate to speak out against evil because they fear representation of the truth -- then it is that government and those leaders who bear the burden of that decision, not somebody who made a difficult moral decision about carrying out an act (releasing the photo) honestly intended to do good, by alerting the consciousness and the conscience of the world to wrongdoing in the way that photography uniquely can do.
Not familiar with the picture in question and absent on this blog (?) I thought it would be easy to locate via a quick search. For an image that has had such an effect it is surprisingly difficult to locate with this being the only site I could find : http://www.ottawaxpress.ca/books/books.aspx?iIDArticle=12859
Those equally savage images (showing a savage act) taken at Abu Ghraib Prison however can be readily found. Why is this?
Seoras raises an interesting and provacative question. The first thing that comes to my mind is that in 1993 means of disseminating information, including photos, were far more limited than they are today, so that more recent photos such as the ones taken at Abu Ghraib Prison are apt to be found in many more places on the Web than earlier photos.
A couple of other possibilities come to mind that are rather disturbing.
Jon and Seoras, I really appreciate your thoughtful and articulate comments, and I agree with everything you say. And thanks to Silvana who commented on the previous blog about the same subject.
I, too, was surprised how difficult it was to locate a copy of the photographs online. After some digging, I found this different image from the same series, here.
Regarding the Abu Ghraib photos, I tend to agree with Jon that the immediacy of widespread distribution via the web eliminated the possibilities that those photos would `disappear` and be forgotten. And I think another reason for the impact of those torture photos was the `intention` of the photographers, who were celebrating torture, instead of being appalled by it, as Watson obviously was by what he witnessed and photographed in Somalia.
Thanks again for the thoughtful comments.
Director Brian De Palma emphasizes the power of war photos to drive home the attrocities of war in his new film Redacted, which premiered at the Venice Film festival on Friday. The film includes actual video footage and photos made by soldiers in Iraq as well as by photojournalists. Almost none of the photos were used by mainstream media, and De Palma himself was forced by lawyers to edit out some real photos originally included in the film due to threats.
At a press conference, De Palma said: `I remember picking up Life magazine and seeing pictures that would horrify me about the Vietnam War. We don't have those pictures in America [today].`
An article by AP said this:
`The film ends with a montage of real-life photographs of Iraqi war victims, including maimed and dead women and children; the final picture is an image of the real-life 14-year-old rape victim.
`De Palma said he hoped seeing such images would alert Americans to the truth of what is going on in Iraq. `
Mr. DePalma's remark about the difference between today's war coverage and that of the Vietnam conflict should be hearkened to by anybody concerned about free speech and free press. Combat photographers and media journalists assigned to war zones have a job whose daily danger and stress cannot even be imagined by most of us. They don't make images for fun, titillation, or increased readership. To have their work effectively censored (as by the threats alluded to here) is something we should not tolerate.
Only how to combat censorship is a vexing problem in itself.