By now you’ve heard the story of Neda Agha-Soltan, killed last weekend in a demonstration in Iran, and seen her photos—alive, dying, and dead. Her fiance and witnesses report that she was purposely targeted by Baseji paramilitaries who shot her in the chest.
When I heard of Neda’s death from a friend several days ago, my first thought (after “how horrible”) was that her image would almost surely be used to rally others under the banner of her martyrdom. This has come to pass, and not just in Iran. Even President Obama referred to her death in his press conference today
As Stalin famously said: The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic. There is no question that Stalin was correct.
The way our minds and hearts seem to work is that it’s difficult to encompass and appreciate the scope of large tragedies involving vast numbers. Perhaps it’s best that way; otherwise we’d have a lot more trouble sleeping soundly at night. But in this respect we’re somewhat like those tribes whose counting ability is somewhat limited: one, two, three…many.
That’s why a story such as Neda’s captures the imagination: she’s a person we can identify with rather than a mere statistic. Why Neda and not the others who’ve died? Perhaps because her demise was so very well-documented, and also because she was young and beautiful and female. This makes her a particularly apt symbol of the opportunities lost by the multitudes of young people in Iran who’ve been under the thumb of the mullahs for their entire lives.
The mullahs are cognizant of the power of the martyr in their culture and religion. That’s why they’ve banned funeral celebrations for Neda. The NY Times explains that the mullahs themselves have made excellent use of such things in the past:
Funerals have long served as a political rallying point in Iran, since it is customary to have a week of mourning and a large memorial service 40 days after a death. In the 1979 revolution, that cycle generated a constant supply of new protests and deaths.
But the narrative of death has also been important in the lore surrounding the existence of the Islamic republic.
The government portrayed itself in the role of Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad killed by a far larger army during the seventh-century struggle within Islam, which gave birth to the Shiite sect that predominates in Iran.
Days for prophets and saints believed killed in the service of the faith dot the holiday calendar, taking up 22 days of the year.
So the very public adulation of Ms. Agha-Soltan could create a religious symbol for the opposition and sap support for the government among the faithful who believe Islam abhors killing innocent civilians.
I’ve written before about the power of iconic news photos to change (or at the very least to rally) public opinion (see this, this, and this). Photos and/or videos have the power of graphic simplicity; they get us in the gut. It’s an emotional place that the words in news stories, however dramatic, can rarely touch.
Photos seem to never lie, but of course they can. In the case of Neda, however, it appears fairly clear—from the context, the preponderance of the photographic evidence, and the large number of witnesses—that what is reported to have happened is exactly what did happen.
In the past this has not always been true. For example, in some of my posts I linked to above, the photos were of very real events but the news stories about them distorted what was actually happening at the time. And then in recent years we’ve seen the growth of two other variations: faked Photoshopped photos, and real photos and/or videos of faked events.
For example, I’ve written at great length about the al Durah case, where the video was real but drastically edited, and the preponderance of evidence (including the more complete footage, as well as forensics) pointed strongly to the fact that the event had been staged for a compliant news cameraman in order to create a martyr (or more likely the illusion of a martyr) and to frame Israeli soldiers as murderers (see also this).
The al Durah incident was wildly successful in doing just that. And, in a terrible irony, the boy’s photo was used to inspire the murder of innocent Israelis by suicide bombers in supposed retaliation, as well as being shown as part of the introduction to the video of the beheading of Daniel Pearl. The people who arranged the al Durah incident knew how incredibly powerful the al Durah photos were.
As human beings, we are all susceptible to the pull of propaganda, both for good and evil, and we know that photos are among the most effective propaganda tools of all. Just because we are in sympathy with a cause does not mean everything that is said in that cause is the truth. We have to retain a healthy skepticism—accent on the word “healthy”—and to use our judgment to evaluate each case on its merits.
That Neda was in fact killed by the repressive forces of the mullahs is not in serious doubt, although that doesn’t stop some people from spreading the idea that this is another lie (I’m not going to dignify them with links, but just Google “Neda hoax” to see some). But the mullahs themselves are no strangers to lies—in fact, their election results were an example of a Big Lie that they thought they could pull off successfully.
And maybe, in the end, they will pull it off in the sense of their guy, Ahmadinejad, retaining power. That wily old Stalin knew a thing or two about such games, as well:
It is enough that the people know there was an election. The people who cast the votes decide nothing. The people who count the votes decide everything.
Perhaps. We’ll see.
[NOTE: This article points out the the Financial Times has compared Neda to al-Durah without seeming to have any idea of the debunking of the al Durah story. No surprise there.]