Note From Team Cho: Margaret asked us to post this entry from Kirk Miller. Margaret’s back on Monday.
I just read an article on photo.net about a proposed ban on photography and video on the New York transit system. The proposal would make it illegal to take a photograph anywhere on the system. Violations would be punishable by a fine of up to $100, and up to ten days in jail.
Outlawing photography seems to be one of the knee-jerk reactions of many institutions concerned about “security” issues these days. If I thought this proposal would increase safety in the subway one bit, I might have some sympathy for it. But cameras are so ubiquitous, and come in so many sizes and formats that it would be impossible to stop someone from sneaking a photo of the transit system for nefarious purposes. And why would they need to take a picture anyway? What vital information could a terrorist gain from a grainy cell phone picture that they couldn’t get from the subway maps available on every corner? The only people that would be hurt by a photography ban are tourists and photographers documenting life in this essential part of New York City. What is the real motivation behind this proposed photo ban?
I guess I reacted strongly to this article because I had an experience of being hassled taking pictures recently. When we were in Washington D.C. for the March for Women’s Lives, I was approached by security guards within moments of arriving at the Lincoln Memorial with a video camera. “Who are you with?” each demanded, in a tone of voice meant to intimidate one into truth telling, I guess. Actually, it inspired me more toward lying, as I tried to figure out who would be good enough to “be with”. Is margaretcho.com an acceptable media outlet? Fox News? CBS? Aljazeera? Am I as a private citizen a qualified journalist? It made me furious that they would ask such a question, as it implied they could deny me the right to photograph these national landmarks based on my corporate or political affiliations. As we left the monument, one of the guards told me we’d better get lost, because a security backup was on the way.
After a brief but menacing interrogation at the rear gate of the White House the next day, an officer told me I only had a minute to get a shot, and then I better move on. I got the feeling that if I wasn’t a white male with an American accent and a standard-issue haircut, they might be even less friendly.
It wasn’t as crowded at the front entrance to the White House, and the security officer stationed there seemed less aggressive about harassing photographers, so after he got done asking me who I was with, I asked him some questions. I had videotaped the monuments of D.C. before without questioning: Was there a new policy against photography I wasn’t aware of? He told me there were no new rules, But that “they just liked to keep tabs on who is out there.” I guess that makes sense, but it seems like they could keep an eye on people without intimidating them needlessly. I mean, if I’m trying to aim a rocket launcher at the White House, by all means arrest me. But if not, what’s the problem?
At the same time, I am glad the authorities were able to recognize what I had in my hand was a video camera. I would hate to get shot like Mazen Dana, the award-winning Reuters camera person who was killed by US Troops outside Abu Ghraib Prison by US soldiers who claimed they thought he had a weapon. Of course, we’ll never know if that’s true: The other reporters he was with at the time said they were clearly identified as journalists, and fired upon anyway.
Quite a number of journalists, many of them photographers and videographers, have been killed in Iraq, many under suspicious circumstances. For example, on April 8, 2003, US forces dropped a bomb on Aljazeera’s Baghdad headquarters, killing a reporter, dropped another bomb on Abu Dhabi TV’s headquarters, and fired a tank shell into the Palestine Hotel, where a number of international press outlets were stationed, killing two journalists and wounding three others. All three attacks occurred one day before the famous (and apparently staged) toppling of Saddam Hussein’s statue. Even a moderately paranoid person might deduce that these attacks were intended to eliminate any unsympathetic images of the “liberation” of Baghdad the world might see.
I suppose we can’t blame them for trying to control the pictures. The scandal at Abu Ghraib Prison shows how powerful photographs can be. Nobody seemed to believe the various written reports of prisoner abuse circulated by relief organizations. But, when photographs of human beings stacked like cordwood in front of smirking soldiers hit the media, all hell broke loose.
And what was Donald Rumsfeld’s response? Shortly after the scandal broke, he ordered a ban on cell phone cameras in the military. Apparently, Rumsfeld believes the problem is not the violation of human rights and international law at Abu Ghraib, but that these crimes were allowed to escape the memory hole. If a tree falls in the woods and no one gets a shot of it, apparently, it never happened.
It’s the same logic that lies behind the ban on photographs of coffins returning from war zones abroad. The people who create wars don’t want us to think about coffins too much. It inevitably leads to thinking about the people that are in those coffins, and to why those people are dead.
I’m infuriated by the military’s argument that the photo ban protects the families of the deceased. A photo of a coffin is completely anonymous. The flags draped over each one look exactly the same, and all of them just like the flag flying in front of the White House. The only purpose served by hiding photos of coffins is to reduce thoughts of death associated with the newspaper and television war.
I’m grateful to Tami Silicio for the photo she took of flag-draped coffins returning to the United States on a cargo plane that appeared on the front page of The Seattle Times earlier this year. It’s a gravely beautiful picture, the kind that truly seems to freeze time. The photo itself has no politics, no axe to grind. Like all photographs, it’s made up of miniscule dots representing the light focused for a fraction of a second onto a small square inside a portable box. Yet somehow, it comes as close to preserving a slice of reality as anything possibly can. The photo cost Tami her job, her husband’s job, and what I’m sure must have been an unbelievable amount of harassment. I’m glad it didn’t cost her life, and I’m thankful to anyone who takes a risk to try and capture some of the reality those in power would rather we not see.
Back to New York: Fortunately, folks taking snapshots on the New York transit system are rarely taking their lives in their hands. And although being forced to ride a local train at rush hour in August may sound like a violation of the Geneva Convention, there probably won’t be any abuse scandals coming out of the subway. I can’t think of any atrocities the MTA might be trying to hide, so they must actually think banning photography will help prevent terrorism. How is that possible?
The only explanation I can think of is that it’s some sort of is trickle-down logic from the Administration that dreamed up the Patriot Act. It’s an emotional reaction enacted on a national and international level, aimed at gaining power over a world and a domestic population that our leaders feel is out of control; a generalized assertion of authority aimed at preventing anyone else from stepping out of line. I felt it the four times a D.C. security guard growled at me “Who are you with?” It’s what I thought after reading about Rumsfeld banning cell phone cameras in the military. And it’s what I suspect lies behind the firing of a woman who dared to snap a photo of flag-draped coffins. Photographers are being targeted because sometimes they are able to capture powerful pieces of the truth, people in touch with reality can be awfully difficult to control.
Although I have zero trust for the Bush Administration, I doubt the folks proposing the MTA photography ban are evildoers plotting to steal our liberty. The MTA doesn’t have a psychotic ideology to defend like the Administration does. I hope they realize that simply asserting authority doesn’t necessarily make us any safer. The loss of freedom to document our daily lives is too important to trade away for the negligible increase in security gained by banning photography in the subway.
At the end of the article, there’s a link to the MTA customer comment page.
-Kirk