War Photographer Response Piece--Jamie Lee

I went into class on Friday with high spirits—it was almost the weekend and it finally stopped raining. And then, fifteen minutes into the documentary War Photographer, my high spirits deflated significantly.

James Nachtwey’s images of utter human destruction were startling, especially because I researched many of those conflicts in-depth for various classes and extracurriculars in the past few years. But seeing actual photos resonated so much more deeply than the statistics and articles I read on the subject. Rwanda, for instance—I was able to put together a ten-minute presentation in high school while seeing only minimal photographic evidence during the entirety of my research. But James Nachtwey’s sepia-toned profile shot of the man who survived a death camp was so much more powerful than the heaps of words I put up on my PowerPoint.

The documentary showed an interesting juxtaposition between incredible chaos and incredible calm. Regardless of the scenario—whether it was in a war zone, a famine feeding center, or a dilapidated community by railroad tracks—Nachtwey maintained a state of near-meditation, methodically taking photos, his face void of emotion. Later, he explained how it would be useless for him to travel to these places only to lose it; it was then I understood his forced composure. He dedicated himself thoroughly to his craft, and controlling emotion was one piece demanded of him.

He didn’t flee in terror when Ken Oosterbroek was shot next to him in South Africa, and after some research, I discovered he didn’t retire after a grenade injury in Baghdad—in fact, he continued to take photographs after he was wounded until he passed out. His dedication to photography seemed so powerful, it was borderline fanatic.

But more than that, Nachtwey was able to combine his instincts as a human being with his talent as a photographer. A recurring ethical issue often arises in this field: should journalists stand idly by as third-party witnesses or try to intervene? I tend to side by the latter, believing that a human life is more valuable than a good piece. Nachtwey, in the one instance portrayed in War Photographer, did both by pleading for a man’s life while simultaneously taking photographs. That stuck with me the most—it seemed to demonstrate, in one concrete moment, how journalists aren’t just middlemen, relaying information from one area to another. They’re also human beings who should value someone else’s life regardless of the circumstance.

I tend to be wary of documentaries that focus solely one person, because oftentimes it ends up glorifying them to a saint-like status. And though this piece did exactly that, it was justified. Nachtwey made many sacrifices, including risking his personal safety multiple times, in order to give others a voice they wouldn’t normally have in the media.

The horror depicted in the documentary was immense, but strangely enough, I didn’t feel depressed by the conclusion of the documentary. Nachtwey’s inspiring optimism and motivations for photography overpowered any hopelessness. Sure, I wasn’t as joyous as when it started, but I believed him when he explained how photography has the potential to end war. After seeing his photographs I understood exactly how journalism can, in Nachtwey’s own words, “evoke empathy and shake people out of their indifference”.