The Washington Post today has a piece called America's Missed Photo Opportunity, subtitled, "Suprise Transfer of Sovereignty Lacks Memorable Positive Picture." The piece begins with the press' idea of what such a moment should look like:
Salah Nagm, the head of news at the Middle East Broadcasting Centre that runs the Arabic satellite channel al-Arabiya, said it was possible that the ceremony would join other historic images -- momentous handshakes on the South Lawn of the White House or Anwar Sadat's visit to Israel -- that are graven on the memory of this region. He couldn't know, of course, what the event would look like. But as a man who deals in images, he knew it might have enormous impact.But instead:
No one, it seems, had bothered to call the Arabic-language channel that says it has the largest viewership in Iraq. Their cameras were not even in the room when Iraq was reborn as a sovereign nation (or "so-called sovereign" in the local parlance).We are used to the press attempting to present the US as inept, and seeking voices that will accomodate their desire. The sea of anti-Americanism in which these comments swim is as deep as the Persian Gulf. Who expected this fellow to say anything positive?
"I don't know what they were thinking -- they didn't tell anybody," said Abdul Kader Kharobi, an assignment editor at al-Arabiya, a few hours after the transfer at 10:26 a.m. local time. There was no frustration in his voice, just disgust and a lot of weary irony. The Americans have been all but incompetent in manufacturing images, he said, and yet what does it matter? After Abu Ghraib, and after what he believes was a sham investigation into the March 18 killing of two al-Arabiya journalists in Baghdad by U.S. soldiers, who believes the Americans anyway?
Kharobi first learned that the transfer might happen early from statements by the Iraqi interior minister, who was in Turkey for the NATO summit. But, he said, despite the best efforts of one of his reporters to get more information out of members of the Iraqi delegation, no one offered anything specific. It seemed like a rumor, or confusion.
Ten minutes later, he learned that the transfer was already a done deal. And so the event that might have produced the most public, ceremonial moment in the birth of a new country was a private, invitation-only event. A war of images, of toppled statues and looted museums, of captured Americans and mangled children, a war whose ending was marked with a premature victory celebration on an aircraft carrier more than a year ago, was given another ambiguous marker. Iraqis were once again nominally in charge of their country, but al-Arabiya, for the moment, had no way of proving it to its viewers.
The day continued like that. There had, in fact, been a camera in the room in Baghdad, and the video that emerged showed a weary-looking L. Paul Bremer on a yellow sofa. The actual transfer of power came with the exchange of a large blue portfolio, but who was running the camera at this critical moment? And why was someone standing in the way?
"The camera was positioned very badly," said Kharobi, who, despite deep skepticism of American intentions, is hopeful that peace, at least, will follow soon.
Still, there are several responses that ought to be made:
1) Images aren't as easily manufactured or controlled as the press would like to believe. The particular picture that comes to symbolize an event depends on visceral public reaction more than it depends on the press. You can put an image up over and over, but if it doesn't speak to what the public itself believes to be true and right, it won't take.
2) Images can also be constructed after the fact. Say "Washington crossed the Delaware" to anyone in the United States, and an image leaps to mind. The image itself is improbable, a later invention of a fertile mind.
Similarly, the photograph of the Marines raising the flag atop Mt. Suribachi was taken after the battle was over. The original raising of the flag--which occured under fire--was not photographed. So, they went back and staged it again with a bigger flag, and got some pictures for the folks back home.
3) Last, and most important: it is the success of an event, not the image, that counts. We all remember the "momentous" handshakes of the Israeli peace process, but who cares? The peace process was a fraud. We remember Chamberlain holding his documents high, too, but only with scorn.
There have been times in history when images have changed the course of human events. The Tet Offensive is one such--the press' images convinced Americans that the fight was being lost, when in fact Tet was a success for America and South Vietnam. What should have been a celebratory atmosphere became, instead, an erosion of support.
Still, it's not the image that counts. Victory counts. The only reason to worry about images is to prevent the press from having its way, and once again convincing Americans that we are losing when in fact we are winning.
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