Thoughts on Situations Involving Bodies
March 18 found us in the port town of Ishinomaki, just northeast of Sendai. Judging by the look and mood of the town, much less aid had arrived. We photographed locals cleaning out their shops, the army going door to door to check for survivors and locals returning home. It was also the first day our crew came across the Japanese army and local firefighting units collecting bodies from the rubble and moving them to locations where families could collect the bodies, or where the army could move them away from town. It was my first time in a situation like that. It was a very long, emotionally draining day.
We walked for miles through the town, from the downtown district, through residential streets and out to the industrial zone. I found myself spending much of the day wrestling with the idea of photographing bodies, what it means to be a photojournalist in these situations and the balance of news coverage. I’ve decided to make today’s blog post about my personal thoughts on this type of news, and I would invite anyone to comment. While I’ve come to my own personal conclusions, the dust in my brain hasn’t quite settled, and there are many arguments that I might not personally agree with, but are still equally valid. Again, I’ll ask for comments- this topic is an on-going conversation in the journalism world, there are no hard or fast rules.
The discussion around photographing corpses can quickly lead to the argument that journalists in these situations are vultures, they’re exploiting the suffering of locals, they’ve become heartless, blood-thirsty creatures looking for the most sensationalist stories. I fundamentally disagree, with some caveats that I’ll touch later.
At the most basic level, we(as journalists) have been brought into these situations to tell the story of what happened, and without sounding callous, there are currently over 18,000 people either missing or dead in Japan: death is apart of this event. In order to properly tell this story, death must be confronted. Personally, I don’t feel good about it, I don’t find anything enjoyable about shooting in these situations, and watching those scenes unfold are incredibly emotionally and psychologically taxing. But, again, it’s part of the story – and as we walked through the streets, we came upon scenes naturally, unexpectedly. To turn a blind eye, or to not photograph these events, would be an injustice to what occurred.
Regarding photographing the people who are recovering bodies or weeping over the loved one’s they’ve lost: the most I can say is that we approach each scene with as much empathy and respect possible. In this specific situation, we often tried to convey our concern through hand motions because we don’t speak the language (our fixer/photographer was often down a different street), and we always gestured with our camera before shooting. I was consistently surprised at how open and inviting each person was to letting us work in their proximity, despite the enormity of the situation. I was equally surprised by how kind the military and police were towards allowing us to work near them. I think there is an unspoken understanding amongst people in these situations that this is major international news, that the world should have an understanding of the magnitude of the tragedies that have occurred. Again, this isn’t easy, and is, at best, a gray area.
Going back to the idea that journalists are exploiting suffering: to use the term ‘vulture’ would suggest that we are only interested in the most gruesome, hopeless scenes. Again, I strongly disagree. We’ve spent much of the last four days photographing situations of hope – mothers playing with their children in refugee centers, the elderly being given hot meals, locals helping clean and rebuild their homes. I have found so much beauty these past few days. Much of what we have witnessed is filled with optimism. Death is only a part of what is occurring, though it would be partial coverage to not photograph it. Out of the last four days, we spent a few hours photographing body collections, so to say we’re vultures dedicating our time to being sensationalistic is simply untrue. (And, just a thought, to entertain the ‘vulture’ idea – was I a vulture when I photographed the Egyptian revolution? What about a protest outside the UN, or fashion week, or a homeless junkie, or an NFL game? It seems to me that if you’re going to call foul on photographing in disaster or war zones, you have to call foul on the entire journalism industry. This is, after all, what we do – tell the stories of people who are going through something, regardless of whether they chose to go through those events – it doesn’t change the fact that we should approach each story and subject empathetically, as humans who are equal to our own lives, and deserving of the same respect).
Some other thoughts, outside of the Japanese tsunami and earthquake, but regarding the idea that death and bodies shouldn’t be broadcast or published: I recently took a survey that asked me, “can a joke be made out of any situation, no matter how grim? (It made me think of dead baby and holocaust jokes, etc). I answered, ‘No, humor should not be found in any situation. the enormity of some scenes are so grim that proper silence, respect should be paid – humor is not always the best medicine.’ But if the question was changed to, “Should the news media cover any situation, no matter how grim,” I have to answer ‘yes.’ As a society, we should be honest enough with ourselves to look in the mirror – especially when it comes to war and conflict. For instance, I disagree with the US military policy that images of bodies and victims cannot be released. The military claims this is for respect for the dead, but it comes across as much more of a PR tactic: if we as a country are bold enough to send troops to war, sustain the losses of thousands of American lives and kill hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis, we should at least be bold enough to look those atrocities in the face, know what actions we are committing, and adjust our public conscious accordingly. The news coverage of those wars becomes so watered down due to news-media restrictions and military rules that the US public ends up having no idea how horrific war actually is (and yet we have no problem watching, even glorifying, war movies like Saving Private Ryan). However, to come back to Japan: this particular assignment is especially taxing because the atrocities we’re witnessing along the destroyed coastline are not from the hands of a dictator or army that should be stopped, but from a natural disaster, where no one is to blame, no people to be brought to justice, no answers for the people effected.
Finally: regarding the psyche of conflict photographers. In my brief experiences, It seems journalists who spend extended time in these situations end up going one of two ways: they either become increasingly empathetic – valuing human life even more, or increasingly jaded and cold – their words and actions can be very callous and dark. I’ve come across both types of journalists, and it’s never enjoyable to be around the latter. Every industry has a few talented people that have loud mouths and poor moral compasses – it’s an unfortunate truth. That said, it should be remembered that both ends of the spectrum are ways of coping with horrors they’ve seen – journalists are flawed humans too. My hope is that I stay conscious enough to never disregard the sacredness of human life.
So all that said: there are some photos of bodies in today’s take. The corpses are a portion of the news coverage, I believe they are necessary – the images bring home the gravity of what has occurred in Japan.
All images were shot for USA Today on March 18, 2011. They have been held one day so the paper can have first publishing rights.