Photojournalism
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This can also be said of a certain style of photojournalism, particularly pictures used to sway people's thinking in a desired direction. Thus, if Newsweek magazine wishes to cast doubt on Hillary Clinton, for example, it can run an unflattering cover picture of the otherwise attractive U.S. first lady, to highlight its feature article. If the same magazine wants to imply that Asian interests are unduly influencing the U.S. policy making process, it can then feature a serious James Riady against an eerie black background, giving a sinister effect (Oct. 28, 1996).
When the Economist's editors believe that Indonesia is on the verge of "erupting", its cover would depict an angry demonstrator hurling burning wreckage on a Jakarta street. For the sake of their story, the magazine would not mention that five blocks away, some Indonesian families were peacefully inside their homes, unaware that political rioting was going outside. I know that this actually happened in Jakarta last year.
The reason I raise the subject of photojournalism is that I have just read the book Generations of Resistance: East Timor, a photographic essay by Steve Cox, with a foreword by John Pilger. The book suggests that after 1975, nothing good ever happened in East Timor.
The photographs are carefully selected by the authors. Everything looks dark and forbidding. One would think the sun never shines in East Timor. As we can easily guess from the title, the book has a political message. The authors seem to believe that from this time on, the East Timorese will be inclined to show more loyalty to faraway Portugal than to Indonesia. (Indonesia comprises the former Netherlands and Portuguese-ruled East Indies. "Timor," in Indonesian means East.)
The photo captions in the book are biased, meant to influence readers' opinions. A picture of a village boy holding a machete in a field is captioned: "A young inhabitant eyes a stranger with suspicion." If the text had been: "A young inhabitant of Rantepao, South Sulawesi, eyes a stranger with curiosity" this would be accepted without comment, as the boy's face in no way shows suspicion. (He is actually squinting against the sun).
Similarly, a picture titled "Timorese boys practicing silat with a Javanese army instructor at Los Palos" could be captioned "An Indonesian silat instructor teaching valuable martial arts skills to his young students." This would have been more positive and absent of divisive and negative nuances.
The book tries to rationalize the colonially-created artificial border between West and East Timor by stating that ethnically distinct peoples settled the two halves of the island (not quite true -- although they are closely related). This is a bit like suggesting that the English and Scottish should not be part of one nation (or, for that matter, the Batak and Minangkabau peoples within Indonesia).
The author also does not fail to mention the 1991 Dili incident. Although the book (published in late 1995) purports to show daily life today in East Timor, the photographs by Cox all date back to when he was there six years ago. A "1991 water shortage" is given great emphasis. But I fail to see pictures of Portuguese-built water reservoirs anywhere in the book.
FARID BASKORO
Jakarta