The Purpose of War Photography
I know it's asking a lot, but let's assume the National Geographic Society has some pretty good photographers on its payroll. Then you know that in their current show by photographer Reza, One World One Tribe, you'll find some fantastic examples of photojournalism, which is enough of a reason to check it out. However, what makes this exhibit fascinating are Reza's insights into the nature and purpose of war photography.
Each photograph is accompanied by a paragraph or two, describing the people, the environment - both physical and political - and, quite often, his personal reflections. Born in Iran, Reza has traveled across the globe, from China to Afghanistan to Rwanda. Self-taught, and well-traveled as a correspondent for Agence France-Presse, Newsweek and Time, he seeks with his photography "to witness the agony of war and revolution and express the power of beauty and hope behind human tragedy."
The harsh reality that one cannot seem to wipe away when viewing these pictures of filthy, starving schoolchildren, men with legs blown off by landmines, and tiny boys with enormous rifles and hard eyes, is the vulgar nature of war photography. Renowned photographer James Natchwey broached this subject in his documentary War Photographer. As a mourning mother wailed horrifically in the arms of her family, the click of Natchwey's camera twelve inches from her face over and over and over is almost harder to listen to than her screams. He's not comforting her; in fact, he's going back to the States to sell those photos and pay the rent on his modest New York City studio.
Reza's photographs touch the same nerve. Imagine Reza with his camera, asking a man how awful it is to work in the oil fields, and leaving. But like Natchwey asks, "Why photograph war? Is it possible to put an end to a form of human behavior, which has existed throughout history, by the means of photography?" Both Natchwey and Reza answer "Yes."
Reza uses his "camera as a weapon" to eliminate this suffering. By documenting political oppression, corporate overlords in the oil-filled deserts, and orphanages filled with children ready to continue the cycle of violence by avenging their parents deaths, he can accomplish three goals. First, and most obviously, he connects the western world to the situation. We can buzz along our merry way as much as we like, but it's tougher to do when you walk down L M Street and pass the partially outdoor exhibition. Second, he makes oppressors nervous by using his lens as a flashlight from which they must shield their eyes. Third, and perhaps the point that most negates any notion of vulgarity, is that Reza becomes a part of these communities. Though it may seem awful to stick a camera in the face of a crying woman or a dying man, he connects with these people in a way that you or I likely never will. Most of Reza's subjects claim they are forgotten, but the war photographer's presence assures them that not only won't he forget them, but that he'll take their message back to people who might finally decide to care.
In On the Bank of the Amur River, Khabarovsk, Russia. 1999 (pictured) Reza captions,
To escape the firing squad, Gulag prisoners would get the portraits of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Stalin tattooed on their chest. Who would have dared shoot at one of Socialism's heroes?...I introduced myself and asked his name. With difficulty, as though he were scouring his memory, he announced, "Gennadi Vassilievich," and started to weep. Then he apologized. "You know, nobody has asked me my name in ten years. Nobody."
The real purpose of war photography is not in itself to change the global situation. Photographers looming in the faces of a dictator's army men may be an antiseptic, but it's not an antidote. The end-goal is then, of course, us. As Natchwey says, "We must look at it. We're required to look at it. We're required to do what we can about it. If we don't, who will?"
The National Geographic Museum at Explorers Hall, 1145 17th Street, N.W., is open Monday-Saturday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission is free. One World One Tribe runs until October 9.