I read with great interest the article in Sunday’s New York Times Week in Review, “The
Delicate Handling of Images of War”, written by Margaret Sullivan, the newspaper’s public editor, defending the
decision of The Times’ editors to use
in the newspaper two shocking photographs from Syria.
One was a large (four-column-wide) photograph from August 22
that I described in a recent post, “The Children of Damascus”, which began " The beautiful babies and
children, wrapped in their white shrouds, laid in a row in the street in front
of a mosque, while a voice on a loudspeaker asks people to come forward and
identify the bodies. They seem to be sleeping, but they were choked to
death with poison gas.”
This
image deeply affected me when I saw it on the front page of my morning
newspaper, and it (and similar photos and videos) clearly moved President Obama
as well because, in his address to the nation on Tuesday, he said: "The images from this massacre are
sickening. Men, women, children lying in
row, killed by poison gas.”
I’ve
been a journalist all my life and my medium is words, not photographs, but I’ve
always been fascinated by the ability of a photograph to hit you like a punch
in the gut –something that words can rarely do (but sometimes it
happens—especially if you’re reading Yeats.)
This unique
ability of photographs to elicit a visceral reaction in the viewer is one
reason photography has always fascinated me and why I’ve been collecting
antique photographs for decades. Today,
when we’re all aware of the ways that an image can be manipulated, it’s hard to
realize how shocking and convincing the first photographic images were in the
1840’s, after Louis Daguerre revealed his discovery to the world.
These
images “written by the sun” as they were advertised, (because, before
electricity, they could only be taken on a sunny day) were understood to be
God’s undeniable truth. That’s why
photographs were immediately used by scientists and politicians for propaganda
to promote their warring views. Louis
Agassiz, the leading scientist of his day, traveled to southern plantations in
the 1850’s and had African-appearing slaves stripped and photographed on
daguerreotypes (now owned by Harvard University) in an effort to substantiate
his arguments that the Negro was a separate (and inferior) species from the
Caucasian. That’s why the Northern
abolitionists, starting with Charles Sumner, hired photographers to photograph
mulatto slaves-- who appeared to be white-- and circulated the images to media
like The New York Times and to
politicians, to excite anti-slavery feeling.
(I’ve blogged about this, most recently in “White Slave Children of New Orleans – Why?” )
Back to
the disturbing photographs coming out of Syria.
Newspapers have always taken pains editing the images on the front
pages, which their readers will see as they sit down to their breakfast
cereal. But sometimes a photograph is so
moving and so important that The Times
runs with it. The example I remember
most clearly was the1972 image of the little girl in Viet Nam, naked and
burning with napalm as she ran away from an attack on her home. The minute I saw it, I said, “That photograph
is going to win the Pulitzer Prize.” And
it did. And perhaps it hastened the end of
that war, as I (and President Obama) hope the photographs of the dead children
in Syria will lead eventually to the destruction of Syria’s chemical weapons.
In
defending The Times’ editors, Ms.
Sullivan mentioned that they cropped the photograph of a Boston Marathon bombing
victim, which showed that one of his legs had been reduced to a single naked
bone projecting from his knee. In this
case, the newspaper’s editors were trying to protect us from the gore, but in
the present day of instant, unedited dissemination of news, I and everybody
else had seen that photo in its entirety on the internet almost before the
victim reached the hospital.
Photographs
have a unique ability to move us and drive us to take action, and as long as
the photograph is real (un-tampered with) and as long as the caption is
accurate in telling us where and when it happened (not the case with a second
Times photograph in Sullivan’s piece showing kneeling Syrian soldiers about to
be executed by rebels in Syria), I believe that reporters and editors should
never have to apologize for showing us the truth of what they see.
My
interest in the impact of photography is the reason I follow a blog—BAGNewsnotes.com--
that analyzes news photographs, discussing what they appear to show and how
they are being used as propaganda. Two days ago it featured a series of photographs of executions in Syria, prefaced with the words,
“Warning:
Some of the following images are graphic in nature and might be
disturbing to some viewers.” I
usually can tolerate scenes of gore, but that day I chickened out after the
first photo. Today I’m going to make
myself go back and look at them.
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