That international media companies treat local stringers as lesser humans is no secret. In Bangladesh the terms used to be $ 15 for a picture used. It would be a one time fee, with the photographer handing over copyright and the relevant negative, plus one negative on either side. Three frames, 15 dollars. Simple transaction. The photographer has no insurance, gets no expenses, and if the agency doesn’t want any of the pictures, no pay. The stringer takes the risk. The agency gets the photo when there is a jackpot. It was standard practice.

The story about the “Terror of War” photo in the film “The Stringer” is in keeping with the culture. That it was unearthed after so many years was the surprise. Having worked with organisations like Forensic Architecture, who provided clear evidence of the killing of Shireen Abu Akleh and the continued denial by Isreal, one gets to see how powerful entities operate. They are right because they say so. Witnesses don’t matter, families don’t matter, evidence doesn’t matter. The illegality of using Napalm. The horror of being bombed by their ‘own side’. The inhumanity of women and children being burned alive are all background information in this film. The imperial aggression that is justified by politicians in far away lands who can eliminate civilians because they have a different political belief isn’t what is debated here. This is a simple film about racism.

The theft of copyright, the denial of authorship, the injustice of being denied credit for one’s work is the backdrop for a practice that has knowingly been in place for many years and propped up by people whose claim to ethical standards are the ones we are told to follow.

The photograph’s historic value is immeasurable and is surely one of the classics of photojournalism. Horst Faas at AP had taken the bold decision of going against the agency’s policy of ‘no frontal nudity’. John Morris at the New York Times had followed suit by publishing boldly in front page. AP’s global reach ensured global distribution, and the photographs visual impact did the rest. “I ain’t got no quarrel with them Vietcong,” Muhammad Ali had said years earlier. He had been stripped of his world heavyweight boxing title due to his refusal to be inducted into the U.S. Army. 14-year-old Mary Ann Vecchio, kneeled and screamed in anguish over the body of 20-year-old Jeffrey Miller at Kent State University. The airbrushed fence post led to the debate surrounding the Pulitzer winning photo’s controversy. The distortion of that news photograph became a reference point in photojournalism ethics. Airbrushing a photographer from history was something new. 

It is an unlikely film, involving dogged painstaking research. As they try to overcome the multiple walls across, time, distance and the ganging together of the ‘old boys’ club’, they also reveal tender moments. An author’s pain at being denied authorship. A family’s pain at having been wronged. A daughter’s discovery of a tear sheet her mother had stashed away. A colleague’s guilt at not having challenged a wrong. Perhaps the enduring message that comes through is the hypocrisy of power structures in media, where ethical standards are selectively applied and equality only applies to those of the right colour and race.

At a time when the credibility of western media is in tatters over their selective coverage of global events. When their standards for verification are known to be wildly different depending upon which stories they cover. Of their clear bias in use of headlines and adjectives, depending upon who the victims are. Of their culpability in war crimes. The emperor’s nudity has never before been so stark. This well researched film and the tenacity of the makers, had provided a chance to own up. To admit past mistakes and make genuine efforts at reconciliation. It was a chance to come clean. To mend bridges, to rekindle relationships. The ostriches who still resist, seem to have blown the chance for a new beginning. The film tried. The oligarchs failed.

Shahidul Alam

Dhaka

7th May 2025