As I was quietly having breakfast while reading the previous day's papers, tragedies were unfolding in my own city. When I switched on my television, I saw shocking images of people and vehicles swept away by raging torrents on İstanbul's main arteries.No one can remain indifferent to such images. From a media point of view, covering a natural disaster such as the one that İstanbul has just experienced does not require much soul-searching on the part of news editors, even if a fair share of the disaster can be attributed to man-made negligence. You just show it as it is. When it comes to bringing images of death caused by conflict to small screens or newspaper pages, however, the matter is usually infinitely more delicate. No matter how objective journalists try and remain, war casualties, be they members of armed forces, rebels or civilians, risk being exploited for political purposes.
At the height of the Iraq conflict, the Bush administration prohibited filming of the repatriation of flag-draped coffins for fear that they would affect public morale.
In Turkey, on the contrary, the funerals of fallen soldiers have been extensively reported in recent years and at times manipulated. The most recent took place only a couple of days ago, but media coverage has become noticeably more sober since the launch of the government's democratic initiative. Turkish newspapers, on the other hand, have devoted much less space to the fate of injured survivors or those who returned with psychological damage. In the US, a photo recently dispatched by The Associated Press (AP), depicting a dying 21-year-old Marine, hit in the legs by a rocket-propelled grenade in Afghanistan, is generating a heated debate on media ethics. The Pentagon tried to stop publication of the image and Secretary of Defense Robert Gates declared himself appalled by the news agency's decision, blasting it for its lack of “common decency.”
The AP, however, justified its decision to release the image, against the wishes of the soldier's family, by saying that the image was “part of the history of this war.” Shot from a distance by an intrepid photojournalist embedded with the young soldier's unit, the picture is graphic but not gory. It was part of an extensive package documenting the lives of US troops in Afghanistan, yet many media publications, finding it tasteless, chose not to run it. Many of those who have decried the AP's decision are strong supporters of US involvement in Afghanistan. Is it reasonable to support sending troops into a conflict, thousands of miles away, and yet expect a sanitized version of the challenges they face, and the “collateral damage” they inflict, when you watch your evening news? War may sometimes be necessary, but it is always messy.
A different debate is brewing after the release, again in Afghanistan, of a British journalist working for The New York Times. A media embargo had been maintained after his kidnap by the Taliban a few days ago. When British troops stormed the place where he was held, veteran war correspondent Stephen Farrell was successfully freed, but his Afghan translator, Sultan Munadi, lost his life as did one UK soldier and two civilians. The journalist had taken risks in the pursuit of his professional activities. Was it right that the price was paid by others? There are no straightforward answers to these questions. When tragedy unfolds, whether it is close to home or further away, it can sometimes helps trigger positive change. Reporting the gruesome reality, within certain limits, is therefore crucial.
Hard-line supporters of armed conflict may come to understand its human cost better when it carries a name and a young face than when it is reduced to mere statistics. As for those who drive their workers in unsafe vehicles or local officials who ignore the deficiencies of urban infrastructure, one can only hope that they, too, will be spurred into action by the graphic images of human tragedy.
