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Global Transformations in Media and Communication Research

Visual Imagery and

Human Rights Practice
Edited by Sandra Ristovska
and Monroe Price

A Palgrave/IAMCR Series

IAMCR
AIECS
AIERI
 Global Transformations in Media
and Communication Research - A Palgrave
and IAMCR Series

Series Editors
Marjan de Bruin
HARP, Mona Campus
The University of the West Indies
Mona, Jamaica

Claudia Padovani
SPGI
University of Padova
Padova, Italy
The International Association for Media and Communications Research
(IAMCR) has been, for over 50 years, a focal point and unique plat-
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 Sandra Ristovska · Monroe Price
Editors

Visual Imagery
and Human Rights
Practice
Editors
Sandra Ristovska Monroe Price
University of Colorado Boulder University of Pennsylvania
Boulder, CO, USA Philadelphia, PA, USA

Global Transformations in Media and Communication Research - A Palgrave and

IAMCR Series
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 Acknowledgements

This book emerged from a conference titled Honing the Visual:

Evolving Practices in Human Rights Work at the Annenberg School for
Communication at the University of Pennsylvania in January of 2016.
The conference was made possible by the Provost Interdisciplinary
Seminar Fund, the Annenberg School for Communication, the School
of Social Policy and Practice, the Scholars Program in Culture and
Communication, Perry World House, Cinema Studies, CAMRA,
Comparative Literature, the Center for Media, Data and Society at the
Central European University and the American Austrian Foundation.
Dean Michael Delli Carpini, Dean John Jackson, Prof. Barbie Zelizer,
Laura Schwartz-Henderson, Briar Smith and Alexandra Esenler were
among the key individuals who provided much-needed support and
assistance that made this conference successful.
The wonderful editorial team at Palgrave as well as Claudia Padovani
and Marjan De Bruin, editors of the IAMCR/Palgrave series Global
Transformation in Media and Communication Research, provided out-
standing guidance that brought the book to fruition. Hans Petschar,
Director of the Photo Archives and Graphics Department at the Austrian
National Library, kindly assisted us in identifying the cover photograph
(from the Library’s Marshall Plan archives) and facilitating its use.
Alexandra Sastre with her expert eye for visual culture scholarship was an
invaluable editorial assistant, while Leah Ferentinos and Fran Ferentinos
put their excellent proofreading skills to work on several chapters.

v
vi    Acknowledgements

We thank them all for bringing this book to press. And last but not least,
we acknowledge the efforts and patience of our contributing authors
who made this book possible in the first place.
 Contents

1 Images and Human Rights 1

Sandra Ristovska and Monroe Price

Part I Technologies

2 50 Years of Documentation: A Brief History

of the Audiovisual Documentation of the Israeli
Occupation 15
Ra’anan Alexandrowicz

3 Drones, Camera Innovations and Conceptions

of Human Rights 35
Austin Choi-Fitzpatrick

4 A Convergence of Visuals: Geospatial and Open

Source Analysis in Human Rights Documentation 57
Christoph Koettl

5 The Rise of GEOINT: Technology, Intelligence

and Human Rights 67
James R. Walker

vii
viii    Contents

6 Technology’s Continuum: Body Cameras, Data

Collection and Constitutional Searches 89
Rebecca Wexler

Part II Platforms

7 Simon Srebnik: Narratives of a Holocaust Survivor 109

Christian Delage

8 Re-archiving Mass Atrocity Records by Involving

Affected Communities in Postwar Bosnia and
Herzegovina 131
Csaba Szilagyi

9 Communicating Justice in Film: The Limitations

of an Unlimited Field 153
Nenad Golčevski

10 Photography as a Platform for Transitional Justice:

Peru’s Case 165
Gabriela Martínez

11 Sexual Violence in the Field of Vision 185

Sharon Sliwinski

12 Art and Human Rights in the Constitutional Court

of South Africa 203
Albie Sachs

Part III Agents

13 A Change of Perspective: Aerial Photography

and “the Right to the City” in a Palestinian
Refugee Camp 213
Claudia Martinez Mansell
 Contents    ix

14 Contested Visualities: Courage and Fear

in the Portrayal of Rio de Janeiro’s Favelas 229
Alice Baroni

15 Ubiquitous Witnessing in Human Rights Activism 253

Sam Gregory

16 Answering the Smartphones: Citizen Witness

Activism and Police Public Relations 275
Mary Angela Bock

17 How Newsrooms Use Eyewitness Media 299

Claire Wardle

Part IV Afterword

18 Imaginative Thinking and Human Rights 311

Sandra Ristovska
 Notes on Contributors

Ra’anan Alexandrowicz is a writer and director of award-winning films

such as The Law in These Parts, which won the Grand Jury Documentary
Award at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival and the 2013 Peabody
Award.
Alice Baroni is a visiting scholar at the Center for Gender Studies at
University of Padova, where she works on participatory and (visual) eth-
nographic analysis of female photographers in contexts of political tur-
moil and urban violence.
Mary Angela Bock is an associate professor in the University of Texas at
Austin School of Journalism. She is a former journalist turned academic
interested in the sociology of photographic practice and the rhetorical
relationship between words and images.
Austin Choi-Fitzpatrick is an assistant professor at the Kroc School
of Peace Studies at the University of San Diego. Author of What
Slaveholders Think (Columbia 2017), he now works on how movements
use tools and technologies to bring social change.
Christian Delage is a curator, historian and filmmaker who has worked
on the Holocaust, the Liberation of the camps and the Nuremberg
Trials. He has taught at the University of Paris VIII and has served as
director of the Institut d’Histoire de Temps Present.

xi
xii    Notes on Contributors

Nenad Golčevski is the External Relations Officer at the UN

Mechanism for International Criminal Tribunals. He served as head of
Outreach, Spokesperson and head of Communications at the ICTY. He
holds a master’s degree (cum laude) in communication from the
University of Amsterdam.
Sam Gregory is an award-winning human rights advocate, technol-
ogist and video activist, and he is the Program Director of WITNESS
(www.witness.org) which empowers anyone, anywhere to use video and
technology to fight for human rights. He also teaches at the Harvard
Kennedy School.
Christoph Koettl is a Senior Video Journalist with The New York
Times, specializing in open source and geospatial research. He previously
worked as analyst for Amnesty International, and he founded the Citizen
Evidence Lab, the first dedicated resource on social media verification for
human rights researchers.
Gabriela Martínez is an associate professor in the School of Journalism
and Communication at the University of Oregon. Martínez is a docu-
mentary filmmaker, and her research focuses on political economy of
communications, international communication, human rights, media and
memory.
Claudia Martinez Mansell is a UN humanitarian worker and independ-
ent researcher. Her work is concerned with protracted crises and critical
examination of the landscapes created by humanitarian intervention.
Monroe Price is a professor at the Annenberg School for Communication
at the University of Pennsylvania, USA, and was director of its Center for
Global Communication Studies. He helped to found the Programme in
Comparative Media Law and Policy at the University of Oxford and the
Center for Media, Data and Society at the Central European University.
Sandra Ristovska is an assistant professor in media studies at the
College of Media, Communication and Information at the University of
Colorado Boulder. Her research and filmmaking are interrelated endeav-
ors through which she explores how visual media facilitate ways of know-
ing and social change.
 Notes on Contributors    xiii

Albie Sachs retired from the Constitutional Court of South Africa in

2009. Deeply engaged in defending individuals targeted by apartheid
laws, he is a winner of the Alan Paton Prize and author of We, the People:
Insights of an Activist Judge.
Sharon Sliwinski is an associate professor of Information and Media
Studies at Western University in Canada. She is author of Human Rights
in Camera (2011) and Dreaming in Dark Times (2017) and co-editor of
Photography and the Optical Unconscious (2017).
Csaba Szilagyi is a human rights archivist and instructor at the Vera and
Donald Blinken Open Society Archives at Central European University
in Budapest. His work and research interests lie at the intersection of
human rights archiving, technology and memory.
James R. Walker is a Ph.D. candidate at UCLA. His research focuses
on the geopolitical and policy implications of emerging technology in
the context of international human rights work, with an emphasis on
Remote Sensing, GEOINT and Geographic Information Systems.
Claire Wardle is a Research Fellow at the Shorenstein Center on Media,
Politics and Public Policy at the Harvard Kennedy School, where she
leads First Draft, a project dedicated to finding solutions to the chal-
lenges associated with trust and truth in the digital age.
Rebecca Wexler works on data, technology and criminal justice. She
is currently a Visiting Fellow at Yale Law School. Rebecca is a ­graduate
of Harvard, Cambridge and Yale Law School. She was a 2012 Senior
Fulbright Scholar in Sri Lanka.
 List of Figures

Fig. 5.1 A typical GEOINT schematic layout (Source NGA

presentation, 2010) 72
Fig. 5.2 a and b “Iraq: Failing to Disarm”—presentation
to the U.N. General Assembly (Source U.S. Dept.
of State, 2003) 73
Fig. 5.3 a and b U.S. Dept. of State satellite images
(with annotations) of Srebrenica, Bosnia, 1995 76
Fig. 7.1 a, b, and c Simon Srebnik under Attorney General
Hausner’s gaze during the Eichmann trial. © Mémorial
de la Shoah, Paris 121
Fig. 7.2 Simon Srebnik shows the Eichmann trial judges his
wound. © Mémorial de la Shoah, Paris 122
Fig. 7.3 a, b, c, and d Simon Srebnik and Claude Lanzmann,
outtakes from Shoah (1985). © Claude Lanzmann
Shoah Collection, USHMM (Washington, DC) 124
Fig. 8.1 Information sheet of an identified Srebrenica victim
with details of his household. © Physicians for Human
Rights (1999) 138
Fig. 8.2 Personal effects of a victim recovered at the Čarakovo
exhumation site. © Physicians for Human Rights (1998) 140
Fig. 8.3 Human remains at a surface collection near
Kravica. © Physicians for Human Rights (1997b) 142
Fig. 11.1 Nina Berman. A mallet used by Donnell Baines
to beat his victims in an Upper East Side sex-trafficking
operation. In 2013, Baines was sentenced to sixty-two
years in prison 196

xv
xvi    List of Figures

Fig. 11.2 Nina Berman. A diamond ring and cufflinks owned

by worn by the pimp Alex Campbell, who called himself
“the Cowboy.” Campbell also tattooed the horseshoe logo
on the women he enslaved, some of whom came from
Belarus and Ukraine 197
Fig. 13.1 In close-ups, the mapper is in the map 218
Fig. 14.1 Participatory exhibition 245
Fig. 14.2 Collaborative wall. Visitors find a voice through scribbles 246
 List of Tables

Table 16.1 Interviews 280

Table 16.2 Observations 281
Table 16.3 Blue Lives Facebook Page Constructed Week 2016 281

xvii
 CHAPTER 1

Images and Human Rights

Sandra Ristovska and Monroe Price

This is a book about the interplay between visuals and human rights.
It stems from the recognition that the visual turn has been having
immense consequences, across the board, in the many practices related
to the definition, implementation and enforcement of important inter-
national norms and visions for human rights. Different institutions—
governments, courts, donors, NGOs and the media—as well as various
practitioners—human rights activists, supporters and opponents—all
have been adjusting their efforts to take into account the visual compo-
nent in ways far exceeding its representational function in human rights
practice. Images are no longer merely an illustration on the side or just
a vehicle for advocacy; they have become a critical evidentiary tool and
a mode of information relay on their own terms as well. The capacity
to include images—strongly defined, increasingly tested for impact—has
been harnessed in ways that might alter discourses, might privilege some

S. Ristovska (*)
University of Colorado Boulder, Boulder, CO, USA
e-mail: Sandra.Ristovska@colorado.edu
M. Price
University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA, USA

© The Author(s) 2018 1

S. Ristovska and M. Price (eds.), Visual Imagery and Human
Rights Practice, Global Transformations in Media and
Communication Research - A Palgrave and IAMCR Series,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-75987-6_1
2 S. RISTOVSKA AND M. PRICE

players over others, might present different ethical issues, and might
make, in general, a more powerful role for human rights and the greater
achievement of long-desired objectives.
This collection of essays is therefore an exercise in how, if at all,
understanding both the visual forms of knowledge production and the
wide-ranging image-making practices of various actors can extend the
epistemological horizon for contemporary human rights work. In doing
so, this collection builds upon an established scholarly tradition that
looks at the role of images in the context of human rights and human-
itarian communication: how images are constitutive of ethical and polit-
ical issues (e.g., Azoulay 2008; McLagan and McKee 2012; Sliwinski
2011); how they mobilize publics on human rights issues (e.g., Ristovska
2016; Torchin 2012; Zelizer 1998); how they position the viewer in
moral engagement with human rights abuse victims (e.g., Boltanski
1999; Chouliaraki 2006, 2013); and how critical visual skills are vital for
understanding the production of evidence with its associated practices,
turning forensis into a form of political and legal activism (Weizman
2014, 2017). This book augments this scholarship by looking at how,
when and why visual knowledge shapes human rights practices. Focusing
on the production, definition and usage of images in their multiple per-
mutations—such as painting, photography, video, balloon mapping, sat-
ellites and drones—by diverse networks of institutions and practitioners,
the chapters document the prominent role of the visual across the mech-
anisms that generate, bolster, challenge or undermine what counts as
human rights.
This book also makes a methodological intervention in human rights
discourses. It brings together scholarship and practice from around
the world in human rights, media studies, communication, journal-
ism, activism, social movements, law, geography, history, archiving and
documentary filmmaking, all enriching the visual field from various v­ antage
points in search for answers, provocations and proposals for how and
why visual epistemologies, when taken seriously, can broaden our think-
ing about human rights. Neither exhaustive nor conclusive, this collec-
tion provides a thin description of the entanglement between visuals and
human rights. In self-describing this edited collection as thin description,
we borrow from John Jackson (2013) who calls for a “flat ethnography,
where you slice into a world from different perspectives, scales, registers
and angles—all distinctively useful, valid and worthy of considerations”
(p. 16). Moving away from historical assumptions that ethnography
 1 IMAGES AND HUMAN RIGHTS 3

can—or should—provide a complete account embedded in the concept

of thickness, thin description, for Jackson, privileges dialogue across dif-
ferent communities and knowledge producers. Thin does not mean less
substantial; instead, it usefully and fruitfully acknowledges the relativity
and partiality that the notion of thick description elides.
The application of Jackson’s concept of thin description to this collec-
tion specifically, and the study of visuals and human rights more broadly,
is important on three levels. It offers a methodological accommodation
for the partiality of any individual assessment. It encourages dialogue
with various stakeholders that put images into service to human rights.
And it recognizes the multifaceted portrayals that any visual documen-
tation carries. The particular and diverse positionalities of the researcher,
human rights practitioner, activist and image user are methodologically
as relevant as the “flatness” of the visual, which is never a transparent
medium of communication, but one situated within cognitive, cultural,
social and political relations. This is an approach, then, which is a tes-
timony to the incompleteness of any visual record despite the urge to
operationalize its status as an undeniable portrayal of the real. And this
is precisely where the power of the visual rests because, epistemolog-
ically, images resist totalizing discourses. Their evidentiary, emotional
and imaginative scope is what makes them a rich record and a powerful
persuasive and mnemonic device all at once. The methodological affor-
dances of thin description, then, allow us to examine both more carefully
and more imaginatively how images shape the recognition and restitu-
tion of human rights claims.
In our organization of the chapters, we have created three catego-
ries: technologies, platforms and agents, always seeking how the inter-
action among these three alter human rights practices. We are not at this
juncture capable of addressing fully how the interplay among technolo-
gies, platforms and agents systematically functions (if there is a system-
atic function to that interaction), nor can we clearly and cleanly identify
which activities are mostly, for example, technologies, independent of plat-
forms or agents. Yet, it is useful to have this tripartite division. States may
respond differently to an action if it can easily identify an agent and reg-
ulate its behavior. Calling or identifying something as a platform also has
consequences because the culture of how to treat and conceptualize plat-
forms has continued to develop (e.g., Price 2015). And naming a train
of activities as a product of technology sometimes cloaks it in greater
neutrality, which could leave assumptions with great consequences
4 S. RISTOVSKA AND M. PRICE

unchallenged. At the same time, paying attention to evolving visual

technologies and platforms as created or implemented by various agents
could stretch the limits of normative human rights discourses and urge
us to think more imaginatively about the current role of human rights.

Part 1: Technologies
Technologies shape the material relay of knowledge. How technologies
are implemented or restricted is closely connected to how publics learn
about and respond to human rights violations. Aryeh Neier (2013),
co-founder of Human Rights Watch and former director of the American
Civil Liberties Union, has argued that the development of informa-
tion technologies—augmenting the various civil rights movements and
the boom of nongovernmental organizations—has been central to the
growth of the international human rights movement during the 1970s.
One could imagine what might be called a strategic technological infra-
structure that facilitates the projection of a human rights advocacy rich in
visual cues across national frontiers.
Of course, human rights practitioners have long deployed a
wide-ranging set of technologies for investigative, documentary and
activist purposes; what is worth studying is adjustment to new technol-
ogies and techniques that can potentially have new kinds of impacts.
Technological developments alter, as well, the way that states, as agents,
think about their powers and roles. After all, technological change
remains at the crossroad of ever more complicated struggles for narra-
tive legitimacy among state and non-state actors locally, nationally and
globally (Price 2015). In this process, changes in visual technologies—
through their ability to create, circulate and display imagery that gen-
erates, accentuates, weakens or negates narrative claims about abuses of
rights—become a crucial site for understanding knowledge production,
diffusion and reception in the realm of human rights.
The chapters in this section interrogate an array of visual technologies
to understand their role in shaping and potentially expanding the ways
human rights claims get articulated and legitimized. They also call for
new ways for thinking about visual technologies at times when the stakes
are too high to be ignored. One example is Ra’anan Alexandrowicz’s
chapter which examines the evolution of visual technologies, focusing on
a particular context over time. Alexandrowicz has examined and depicted
a specific rendition of the Israeli Occupation in the city of Hebron.
 1 IMAGES AND HUMAN RIGHTS 5

His is a dramatic history of how technologies shape visual meaning

making. His study reflects changes that are quite pronounced in terms
of the mechanical opportunities of the documentarian. Newsreels and
newscasts are supplemented with long form documentaries and YouTube
videos and, indeed, with the product of automated surveillance cameras.
As a documentary filmmaker, Alexandrowicz is an agent skillful in testing
various technologies for capturing images and then adapting to platforms
for their diffusion. In his taxonomy, different tools or technologies alter
the power structure of who can affect, and how, representation of signifi-
cant events. Applying this approach to accounts of Hebron, he questions
the documentary function of the camera as a “weapon of the weak.”
A highly current example of the change in technology and its capacity
to impact visual approaches to human rights is asking whether and how
drones can become part of the activist toolkit. Austin Choi-Fitzpatrick
looks at the evolution of camera devices from camera obscura to satellites
and drones to illustrate not only the different ways of seeing they gener-
ate but also the various imaginaries they sustain about what human rights
are or could be. By questioning how technological modalities—to bor-
row from Gillian Rose (2015)—drive the forms, meanings and effects of
images, he cautions against technological determinism. New devices com-
plement data-gathering and storytelling efforts but they also strain exist-
ing laws and norms about transparency, accountability and surveillance.
For Choi-Fitzpatrick, attention to visual technologies generates fruitful
discussions concerning human rights norms with the technological change
itself becoming a factor of how those norms are or should be perceived.
Drones pierce old arrangements and empower agents in the process.
New technologies shift the power of information from those who
were exclusive holders of secrets to those who can be now newly
informed. Drawing on his experiences as an image analyst at Amnesty
International, Christoph Koettl illustrates the significance of this shift
by describing the potential and challenges of combining satellite and
open source visuals as “the strongest cases of documentation” in current
human rights practice in the NGO sector. Space-based remote sensing
and camera-enabled cell phones have altered the modes of gathering and
displaying evidence. Koettl, therefore, also sheds light on the changes
these new technologies yield in the responsibilities of the agent: new
diagnostic and analytic skills are now required from the human rights
community for vetting, collating, verifying and describing satellite and
eyewitness images for investigative purposes.
6 S. RISTOVSKA AND M. PRICE

The point of combining technologies and understanding the impli-

cations of their associated information has given birth to the concept
of Geospatial Intelligence or GEOINT. The power of what might be
called “humanitarian surveillance” is reviewed by James R. Walker, who
examines how remote sensing technologies are strategically employed
to legitimize, perhaps too easily, interventions under the Responsibility
to Protect doctrine. Walker cautions about the military origins of
GEOINT and the implications for how such material is organized and
used even in UN peacekeeping contexts. His chapter demonstrates the
intimate relationship between the reshaping of technologies and the
altered challenges for agents employing the results of that technology.
GEOINT not only creates knowledge and presents it, but also organ-
izes it in specific terms and in ways designed to prompt action. Walker
questions whether the underlying contextual narratives that under-
pin GEOINT and their potential effect on human rights campaigns
(given the application of a military derived technological framework)
“recursively shape its own context and usage in both quasi-military and
strictly humanitarian environments.”
Intensive use of new technologies can alter the legal environment and
challenge constitutional understandings. Police body cameras proliferate
and their increased ubiquity may redefine how one thinks about place
and its sanctity. Rebecca Wexler’s legal analysis of police body camera
programs in the United States has general implications. She suggests
thinking about current video technologies not on the spectrum of pho-
tography, film and older iterations of video but “as part of a technolog-
ical continuum of wearable and indiscriminate sensor-data collection
devices,” which gather not only visual data but also vast pools of other
kinds of information that can upend ways of thinking about privacy. The
essay also explores the role of courts and judges in shaping an episte-
mology necessitated by the interface of new technologies with existing
frames of analysis.

Part 2: Platforms
We turn to changes in platforms that alter the impact of the use of new
technologies. Visual imagery in its multiple manifestations requires plat-
forms through which human rights witnessing can be manifested and
sustained. Creating and exploiting platforms is a necessary response
by communicators—states, human rights advocates or others—to the
 1 IMAGES AND HUMAN RIGHTS 7

complexity of modern communication flows. The idea of platforms

captures the process of finding an effective space to consolidate and dif-
fuse a vision and to crowd out the competition of alternate statements.
Platforms can be the venue for competition for elaborately created fora
as means to advance messages deemed to be significant. Institutional
needs to engage audiences have contributed to a rise in visual platforms
across digital spaces and formal structures through which human rights
claims are made, challenged or given restitution. As mechanisms that
enable “the presentation of information in a way that facilitates its pro-
motion and accessibility and aids its legitimacy” (Price 2015, p. 194),
platforms are important zones for engagement with human rights, serv-
ing different needs and purposes.
An example of the changing salience of particular platforms is the
growing use of archives and collections of video testimony. In this sec-
tion of the book, Christian Delage explores the platforms used to
collect and redistribute the testimonies of Holocaust survivors. He does
so using the written and oral testimonies of Simon Srebnik between 1945
and 2003. In the process, Delage argues that platforms capable of audiovis-
ual transmission communicate the human rights survivors’ body language,
voice texture and moments of silence that are as critical for understand-
ing trauma as the content of the testimony itself. He thus recommends
that established archives need to think about new platforms for the pres-
ervation of audiovisual Holocaust testimonies in the future. By concen-
trating on the testimonial accounts of one individual over time and across
platforms, Delage also provides important insights into what he considers
to be a good practice about public use of human rights testimonies.
Ethical aspects of archives as platforms for preserving human rights
testimonies so they can be effectively utilized are further explored by
Csaba Szilagyi. Probing the emotional and evidentiary appeal of images,
he proposes ways of opening human rights archives to participatory prac-
tices so that the people directly affected by human rights violations could
take ownership over their stories and identities. Describing and propos-
ing an online platform for human rights documentation that takes the
role of images and visual testimonies seriously, Szilagyi argues that this
new kind of “inclusive archival platforms would allow for the creation of
personal, community or location based human rights narratives as alter-
natives to exclusive, dominant national narratives.”
International tribunals, themselves, can serve as platforms for the
shaping of new visual initiatives. The International Criminal Tribunal
8 S. RISTOVSKA AND M. PRICE

for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY), for example, has wrestled with the
implications of encouragement and sponsorship of visual produc-
tion as part of the court’s work. Nenad Golčevski, the former Head of
Communications at the ICTY, discusses the genesis of and challenges
with documentary filmmaking under the auspices of this court. An
in-house documentary film unit was established to help in the under-
standing of the court’s work, a departure from a trope that judgments
must speak for themselves. Seeking to reach audiences beyond the lim-
ited number of individuals who follow its work professionally, the ICTY
initiated this unit as part of its Outreach Programme to educate people
about the court’s findings and rulings as well as to reduce misinforma-
tion and the likelihood of denial. Implicit in Golčevski’s reflection is that
the ICTY uses documentary filmmaking for legitimizing purposes.
It is significant as well to think of more ephemeral platforms that
can deploy the visual to alter how human rights issues enter the pub-
lic sphere. Gabriela Martínez traces the story of Yuyanapaq, a photo
exhibition that has accompanied the significant report of Peru’s Truth
and Reconciliation Commission concerning the internal armed conflict
that took place in the country between 1980 and 2000. Tracing how
Yuyanapaq emerged from the pages of Peruvian newspapers and evolved
first as an exhibit in Lima’s Museum of the Nation and then in photo
books, New York galleries and social media, Martínez argues that vis-
uals open a unique space for public dialogue about human rights strug-
gles. The assemblage of various visual approaches has facilitated alternate
routes to collective remembrance and to transitional justice processes.
For Martínez, the epistemological fluidity of images has extended and, in
fact, challenged the work of official institutions.
Platforms can be fragile, filaments of imagination that exist in an
ephemeral continuum. In this context, photography, as an exercise
in seeing, could itself be considered a platform that encourages new
modes of thinking and engagement. Sharon Sliwinski’s chapter is cen-
tered on one photograph about the sexual violence committed against
indigenous women in Canada that exceeds typical documentary tropes.
Sliwinski argues that photography can demand both courageous look-
ing and imagining as a way of challenging fundamental forms of sov-
ereign power while also protecting the integrity of its most vulnerable
victims. In doing so, she suggests that “our ways of seeing—our modes
of attending to the vulnerability and integrity of particular bodies—can
itself be understood as a form of human rights practice.” At the heart of
 1 IMAGES AND HUMAN RIGHTS 9

this chapter is a call to use images for their “potential to strain the faculty
of imagination” because the ethical and political consequences may oth-
erwise be too difficult to bear.
Justice Albie Sachs examines how architecture can serve as a platform
for visual imagery that embraces human rights. Specifically, he discusses
the incorporation of art into the Constitutional Court of South Africa as
an enduring way of transmitting dramatic changes in a system of justice
to court personnel, judges, defendants and prosecutors, to those other-
wise engaged in litigation and to the society at large. In the process, he
documents how the court has become a dynamic reservoir of images of
change, from the building itself to the paintings, sculptures and prints
within it. In reviewing the motivations for and challenges with this pro-
ject, Sachs urges the potential of the visual, embodied in art, to affect
public understanding and to strengthen a narrative of justice and tran-
sition. Invoking the need to move beyond old paradigms, he insists:
“art is said to relate to the human heart, justice to human intelligence.
Rationality is sometimes seen as inimical to art and passion as hostile to
justice. Our building shows how art and human rights overlap and rein-
force each other.”

Part 3: Agents
Technologies and platforms, as already discussed, are hardly independent
of the actions of agents. Among the actors in this book—human rights
advocates, activists, judges, managers of archives, technology develop-
ers and others—who they are and how they function is altered by the
transformations in technology and the alterations of platforms. These
changes affect both the demand for particular kinds of agents and the
opportunities they have for achieving their goals, translating their moti-
vations into practice and realizing their capacities. This last section of
the book emphasizes how grassroots activists, citizens and institutional
agents put images to use, extending the spaces and practices with which
human rights work is typically associated. Image-making is a form of
agency itself, and the wide-ranging practices through which agents ren-
der images meaningful can broaden the understanding of human rights
claims from within the various networks around the world that shape
frameworks for change.
Agency implicates innovation, and the visual underpinning of var-
ious human rights practices and initiatives is in large part a story of
10 S. RISTOVSKA AND M. PRICE

improvisation and heightened adaptation. Claudia Martinez Mansell

describes a balloon mapping initiative in Bourj Al Shamali, a Palestinian
refugee camp in Lebanon. Building on David Harvey’s notion about
“the right to the city,” she questions how public spaces in conjunction
with embodied practices and spatial politics can shed new light on human
rights discourses. A cooperative effort driven by tacit knowledge and
actual needs, this mapping initiative has enabled the refugee community
of Bourj Al Shamali to challenge the stereotypical view of the camp as “a
dependent and passive beneficiary” of international relief organizations.
Grassroots community efforts are important because they transform
people from objects of human rights discourses to human rights subjects.
Through extensive fieldwork and textual analysis, Alice Baroni traces this
idea within the image-making practices of mainstream and community
photographers in Rio’s favelas. She argues that “the decision to take a
photograph involves a courageous process of claiming voice through
which the favela’s residents assert their agency in the struggle over
human rights.” The activities of grassroots image-makers can have a pro-
found impact on how the favela communities define themselves and how
they imagine and shape the very fabric of human rights.
Drawing from his experience as a program director of the human
rights group WITNESS, Sam Gregory identifies two important functions
for human rights activist witnessing today—being at the event to cap-
ture video for potential evidentiary use within the international criminal
justice framework and being co-present via digital platforms to amplify
activist messages. Recognizing the power and potential of these dis-
tributed networks of solidarity, Gregory provides guidance on the ethi-
cal and practical risks that human rights advocates face in the process of
documentation. The focus on human rights witnessing itself emphasizes
agency: the function and purpose of the witness.
Two additional chapters focus on the role of agency. The rise of ubiq-
uitous video witnessing is also a starting point for Mary Angela Bock
who examines how police accountability groups use video as a check
on government authority. Borrowing from Michel Foucault’s concept
of “episteme,” Bock studies how “the contemporary rupture posed by
smartphone video not only changes discourse about individual instances
of violence but the larger episteme of police authority.” The introduction
of cameras, whether body cameras on police or cellphones of activists,
changes how actors perceive their own power; it alters, given the techno-
logical change, what agents may play which roles.
 1 IMAGES AND HUMAN RIGHTS 11

Claire Wardle focuses the discussion on institutional agents who shape

visual meaning, looking at the challenges that the journalistic commu-
nity faces with the proliferation of eyewitness media around workflow,
verification, copyright, informed consent and ethical use. As journalists
often turn to eyewitness materials in the context of catastrophes, much
of global crises reporting today overlaps with the spaces typically associ-
ated with human rights activists. She thus describes how “there is more
of a desire amongst newsrooms, human rights organizations and social
networks to come together and discuss [these issues].”
In the afterword to this collection, Sandra Ristovska presses for a
next iteration, a further advance in visual epistemologies, striving for an
imaginative thinking that would reposition human rights issues. Such a
repositioning becomes necessary at a time of global anxieties and deep
concerns about the future of international norms. Incorporating the
visual and imagining with and beyond it could strengthen the ability of
human rights frameworks to respond to global injustice and abuses of
power. Images cut across the cultural, political and legal mechanisms that
define human rights. And imagination, illuminating the way, could help
redefine and ferret out rights violations.
Technologies change, platforms evolve and agents interact with these
altered realities. The consequences include evolving visual modes of
knowing that are relevant to human rights work whether by facilitating
better understanding of current practices or urging for the use of imag-
ination to broaden existing frameworks of analysis and action. Remote
sensing and unmanned aerial vehicles are usually considered a subject
far from that of increased opportunities for eyewitness media in news
reporting. This book tries to bring these varied subjects together, includ-
ing the emerging mechanisms for authentication and preservation of
visual footage, usage of images in the courtroom, new practices around
video recording of legal proceedings as well as the intersection of visual
culture with activism and transitional justice more broadly. Tackling the
complex processes and practices that legitimize and utilize visual knowl-
edge for human rights purposes, this collection of essays hopes to spark
ideas, debates and actions that will insist on the imaginative purchase
of human rights as an important epistemological, ethical and political
project.
The following chapters, then, treat how changing technologies, novel
platforms and increasing involvement by activists, advocates and people
at large enrich the understanding and development of human rights as
12 S. RISTOVSKA AND M. PRICE

facilitated through diverse visual encounters. In doing so, this collection

explores the ways, the circumstances and the ends to which this turn to
the visual and the imaginative shapes human rights. Given the growing
and significant relationships between visual imagery and human rights,
there is a need to enlarge how these developments are discussed and
debated. This collection, therefore, is an experiment, an epistemologi-
cal exercise to account for how images work on their own terms, how
they facilitate processes of knowledge acquisition and how they foster an
enlarged scope for the advancement of human rights.

References
Azoulay, A. (2008). The Civil Contract of Photography. Brooklyn, NY: Zone
Books.
Boltanski, L. (1999). Distant Suffering: Morality, Media and Politics.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Chouliaraki, L. (2006). The Spectatorship of Suffering. London, UK: Sage.
Chouliaraki, L. (2013). The Ironic Spectator: Solidarity in the Age of Post-
humanitarianism. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Jackson, J. (2013). Thin Description: Ethnography and the African Hebrew
Israelites of Jerusalem. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
McLagan, M., & McKee, Y. (Eds.). (2012). Sensible Politics: The Visual Culture
of Nongovernmental Activism. New York: Zone Books.
Neier, A. (2013). International Human Rights Movement: A History. Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press.
Price, M. E. (2015). Free Expression, Globalism and the New Strategic
Communication. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Ristovska, S. (2016). Strategic Witnessing in an Age of Video Activism. Media,
Culture & Society, 38(7), 1034–1047.
Rose, G. (2015). Visual Methodologies: An Introduction to Researching with
Visual Materials (4th ed.). London, UK: Sage.
Sliwinski, S. (2011). Human Rights in Camera. Chicago, IL: University of
Chicago Press.
Torchin, L. (2012). Creating the Witness: Documenting Genocide on Film, Video,
and the Internet. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Weizman, E. (2014). Introduction. In Forensic Architecture (Eds.), Forensis: The
Architecture of Public Truth (pp. 9–32). Berlin, DE: Sternberg Press.
Weizman, E. (2017). Forensic Architecture: Violence at the Threshold of
Detectability. New York: Zone Books.
Zelizer, B. (1998). Remembering to Forget: Holocaust Memory Through the
Camera’s Eye. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
 PART I

Technologies
 CHAPTER 2

50 Years of Documentation: A Brief History

of the Audiovisual Documentation
of the Israeli Occupation

Ra’anan Alexandrowicz

This essay stems from my initial research for my documentary film The
Law in These Parts (2011), which explores the legal mechanisms that
serve the ongoing post-1967 Israeli Occupation. The archival research
for this documentary entailed viewing hundreds of hours of footage
depicting the occupation. Watching this material was a jarring expe-
rience, not only because of the condensed gaze at this painful and
angering piece of history. As a documentary filmmaker, I found the
overall mental picture created by the accumulation of these hundreds of
audiovisual materials disturbing because it made me question the role of
the documentation in advocating for human rights.
The Israeli Occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip has been
heavily documented and widely reported since its inception, generating
complex narratives about the realities on the ground. Israel has imposed

R. Alexandrowicz (*)
Philadelphia, PA, USA

© The Author(s) 2018 15

S. Ristovska and M. Price (eds.), Visual Imagery and Human
Rights Practice, Global Transformations in Media and
Communication Research - A Palgrave and IAMCR Series,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-75987-6_2
16 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

several limitations on the freedom of expression of the residents in the

occupied territories over the years. In the views of domestic and inter-
national media, however, Israel’s policy has allowed coverage of the
occupation with fewer restrictions than what might be expected from
an occupying regime. After viewing hundreds of news reports, films and
online videos about this subject, I found myself asking: What has all
this documentation achieved? What has been the documentation’s role
in this tragic piece of history? Visual culture scholars have long argued
that images do not merely depict reality; they also perform and create
reality. Then what is the relationship between the audiovisual docu-
mentation of the Israeli Occupation and the reality it claims to portray?
These questions have led me to a wider inquiry about the role that
documentation practices play in shaping historical, political and social
issues.
As a filmmaker, I seek to understand something about the world by
telling a story about it. Therefore, what follows is my attempt to tackle
the relationship between the occupation and its documentation through
the story of one city—the city of Hebron (in Hebrew) or Al Khalil (in
Arabic), situated in the south of the occupied West Bank. In telling
this story, my essay weaves together two narratives: what has happened
to Hebron under the occupation over the last half a century, and the
changes in the documenting practices and technologies that have shaped
what we know about life in Hebron.

Patriarchs and Massacres
As its two names might suggest, the city of Hebron/Al Khalil is a con-
tentious place, whose history is not easy to summarize briefly and accu-
rately. Dating back to the Canaanite period, it is the largest city in the
southern half of the occupied West Bank. It has long been regarded as
religiously significant to both Judaism and Islam because it is the burial
place of the Jewish Patriarch Abraham and the Muslim prophet Khalil
with his family members. In the heart of the old city, there is a struc-
ture that serves both as a mosque (Haram Al Ibrahimi) and a Jewish
praying site (Tomb of Patriarchs). Today, over 200,000 inhabitants pop-
ulate the city—about 95% Muslim Palestinians, mostly living under the
rule of the Palestinian Authority, and about 5% post-1967 Jewish Israeli
Settlers protected by an aggressive Israeli military presence in the area.
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 17

As a sacred site for both religions, Hebron has been a source of con-
stant conflict and strife. It is important to note, though, that unlike other
locations where the establishment of the Israeli settlements was justi-
fied by the idea that Jews had dwelled in the land during biblical times,
the Jewish community had in fact lived peacefully alongside the Muslim
population in Hebron for hundreds of years until 1929. Then, Zionist–
Palestinian clashes ignited Palestine, which was under British mandate
rule. Muslim mobs massacred 66 out of the 600 members of the Jewish
community in the city. The others escaped and never returned.
During the war of 1948, which marked the establishment of the State
of Israel, Hebron fell under Jordanian rule and thus remained inacces-
sible to Jews for the next 20 years. In 1967, following Israel’s military
victory over Jordan, Hebron was settled by a small number of Jews
belonging to at that time marginal Settler movement. The post-1967
Hebron settlers—who basically forced the Israeli government to allow
them to move in the occupied area—presented themselves as belong-
ing to this pre-1929 Jewish community, though, they were not dece-
dents of the original residents. During the 1970s and 1980s, Hebron’s
Palestinian residents lived under a hardening military occupation
while the Israeli settlement expanded, becoming a source of growing
Palestinian frustration. Friction between the two populations led to vio-
lent attacks and counter attacks.
The Goldstein Massacre of 1994 marks another important event
in Hebron’s history. A Jewish settler armed with an M-16 entered the
Muslim prayer hall in the Tomb of Patriarchs, opening fire on the pray-
ing crowd, murdering 29 people and injuring 125. He tried to escape,
but was killed by the survivors. As a result, Hebron erupted into unprec-
edented clashes. The Israeli government, led by Prime Minister Yitzhak
Rabin, is believed to have contemplated removing the settlement from
the city altogether. This event, however, became a turning point that
strengthened the grip of the Israeli Occupation over Hebron. With the
proposed objective of preventing acts of vengeance by Palestinians, a
“Separation Regime” was introduced in the old city by the military gov-
ernment. Hebron’s main road and market were closed to Palestinian traf-
fic, and so were shopping areas adjacent to the Israeli Settlement. The
military government suggested that these actions were meant to reduce
“friction” between the two ethnic groups, but, in fact, these and other
measures imposed on the occupied population made life in the old city
unbearable for the Palestinians.
18 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

Hebron on the Cinema Screen

The first audiovisual images to come out of the newly occupied city of
Hebron were Israeli cinema newsreels made in the late 1960s. It was
the only audiovisual documentary medium that preceded television in
Israel. The newsreels, short black and white pieces screened before the-
atrical movie showings, were high paced, drenched in Hollywood style
music and pathos-filled narration. Partially funded by the state, they
hardly offered any critical view on the occupation. The post-1967 war
newsreels, for example, vividly reflected the euphoric state of mind of
Israelis after the victory of the so-called “Six-Day War.” The newly cap-
tured West Bank and Gaza fascinated Israelis who were enchanted by the
beauty and perceived authenticity of these new oriental territories that
had been added to the state overnight.
Hebron, the city of Patriarchs, attracted the newsreel makers’ atten-
tion more than any other city in the West Bank. The dozen or so news-
reels, that I have seen, produced about the city between 1967 and
1968, tell an interesting story. At first, they paint a euphoric picture of
a bustling undeveloped oriental city, warmly welcoming the viewer (as
well as the Israeli tourist, soldier and settler) into its crowded markets
and ancient streets. But, then, there is a change in tone and narrative:
It is as if Hebron inexplicably and treacherously “stabs” the benevolent
occupier in the back through a series of small-scale military operations
of local insurgents. The newsreels show that these acts bring upon the
city’s population curfews, house searches and other hardships. The news-
reels, which depict only the aftermath of these attacks, offer no informa-
tion regarding the Palestinian perspective on the occupation and nothing
about the numerous conflicts and controversies that took place behind
the scenes during the new settling of Jews in this city.

The Government Channel Vs. the Government

The first television broadcasts of the Israeli Broadcast Authority (IBA)
in 1968 ushered in a two-decade single-channel era in Israel. The change
from newsreels to proper TV news stories was revolutionary in terms of
the depth and seriousness of the coverage that the viewers were getting.
The Israeli television viewer of the 1970s was not oblivious to the exist-
ence of Hebron and its growing Jewish settlement because this story
received a fair amount of coverage. The news stories gradually widened
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 19

the scope of information and perspectives available to the television view-

ers over the 1970s.
In the beginning, the TV journalists, just like the newsreel mak-
ers before them, hardly challenged the government narrative about the
re-settling of Jews in Hebron. However, as early as the mid-1970s, news
reporters started both to include the Palestinian perspective in their cov-
erage and to offer a growing critique over the deceiving and sometimes
brutal tactics used by the Hebron settlers in creating a Jewish Israeli
stronghold in the Palestinian city. This gradual change in reporting coin-
cided with a regime change in Israel in a rather counterintuitive way.
In 1977, after 29 years of the left’s Labor Party rule, the right-wing
Likud Party, led by newly elected Prime Minister Menachem Begin,
took the leadership of the state. During the election campaign, Begin
had promised voters to support and enhance the settlement of the West
Bank. One would expect that there would be less coverage under this
new regime. Interestingly enough, though, IBA journalists at the time
seemed to have been freed from a bond of loyalty to the politicians. It
appeared as if they now felt a need to do more active and critical report-
ing. Perhaps this was due to a perceived lack of responsibility in front
of their new “bosses” (after all, the state officials who initially appointed
them were no longer in power). Perhaps this was an effort to help their
old bosses return to power or simply a sign of professionalization in the
journalistic community. Whatever the reasons, the news coverage of the
late 1970s exposed the ambiguous relationship between the settlers and
the Israeli government.
The news coverage of the Beit Hadassah crisis in 1979 is illustra-
tive of these changes. The crisis was covered in a number of consecu-
tive news pieces produced over a period of nearly a year. By viewing the
pieces, one can see how the settlers took over a building in the old city
of Hebron. The house belonged to the Jewish community prior to 1929,
but, over the years, it had become a Palestinian school. At first, both the
government and the courts opposed the invasion which had no legal
basis. Through their persistence and penetration in government ranks,
however, the settlers managed to secure government support. Finally,
they created a new, recognized settlement outpost in the midst of the
Palestinian population. What is apparent in the IBA news coverage is
how the tone of the reporting changed over time, revealing the irony of
the situation and providing more context about the shots of starry-eyed
settlers in an ancient building that once belonged to Jews.
20 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

During the 1980s, the critical views underlying some of the IBA
stories went even further. IBA journalist Ehud Yaari interviewed jailed
Palestinian fighters, regarded as terrorists by the Israeli public. His col-
league, Uri Goldstein, exposed both the plans of the settlers to push the
Palestinian population out of the old city of Hebron and the reluctance
of some Israeli soldiers to take part in guarding the settlement.
As Israel was a one-channel state until the early 1990s, it is safe to
assume that many Israelis have been exposed to this material critical of
the occupation. It is hard to say, though, what effect this reporting has
had over the course of the occupation. What is clearer is that when the
Palestinians residing in the Occupied Territories started a non-armed
uprising against the Israeli rule in the West Bank and Gaza Strip in the
1980s, most Israelis did not understand or sympathize with the occupied
people’s demand for freedom.

From Filming the Street to Filming the Soul

The first Palestinian Intifada erupted in 1987. It ended in the early
1990s when negotiations between Israel and the Palestine Liberation
Organization (PLO) commenced, raising hopes that peace was finally
coming to the Middle East. Both the U.S. and Europe were heavily
invested in the Middle East peace process. Israel/Palestine became a
news story covered by Western media with much more attention than
previously. At the same time, several Arab Satellite TV stations were
established, which also showed interest in the conflict and told a paral-
lel story from a completely different perspective for a different audience
altogether.
The coverage of the occupation by Israeli media during this period
was also rapidly changing as this moment in history coincided with Israel
transitioning to a multi-channel state. One of these changes included the
production of independent, long-form documentary films, which began
to play a central role in depicting the occupation. These longer films,
produced mostly by Israeli filmmakers, documented the occupation in a
deeper and more detailed way than previous genres. Due to their long
form, such documentaries demand that filmmakers create more material
and commit to a perspective from which to tell more complicated stories.
Conversely, the production scheme of documentary projects is different
than the one of news items and usually calls for the filmmakers to spend
more time with the subjects of their films to build rapport and gain trust.
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 21

One effect this format has on the documentation practice itself is

the inclusion of live events as they unfold, made possible by the long-
term on-site presence of the filmmaker who can merely raise the cam-
era and capture what is transpiring in front of him/her. This change is
clear when viewing the long-form films of the 1990s and early 2000s and
comparing them to the news stories of the 70s and the 80s. During the
news era, the events in Hebron were mostly covered by journalists arriv-
ing at the scene after the event had already happened. The news stories
were thus comprised of mainly B-roll shots and a voice-over description.
The long-form documentaries departed from this aesthetic.
In Inside God’s Bunker (1994) by Micha X. Peled, for example, there
is an unprecedented depiction of the Hebron settlers’ daily lives in the
months leading up to the Goldstein massacre that year. Caged (2000) by
Anat Even and Ada Ushpiz, on the other hand, viscerally conveys to its
viewers the hardship of Palestinian life under the racial separation mech-
anism put in place following the massacre. In these films, as in others
made in this era, viewers can witness live action shots of the unfolding
conflicts in Hebron for the first time, including the violence and the
actual oppression that goes with the prolonged occupation. At the same
time, in these longer documentaries that have more cinematic qualities
than other genres, the filmmakers have been able to develop characters,
enabling the viewer to identify with them, to understand their perspec-
tive and to gain a deeper insight into the “soul” of the situation on the
ground.

Shooting Back
The next turning point in the story of the documentation of the occu-
pation happens more or less with the turn of the millennium. In the
late 1990s, home video became much more widespread than ever
before. Handycams not only replaced the old super-8 format, but they
also became a popular documentation tool. Despite the aesthetic prob-
lems associated with these video materials, such as low technical quality
and shaky camera movements, Handycams were soon put to use both
by documentary filmmakers and journalists. In fact, viewers associated
the low-tech and seemingly subjective look of the images with a higher
level of authenticity. As a result, domestic and foreign news organizations
ended up using and encouraging the recording of crowd-sourced materi-
als. In the clashes of the second Intifada that broke out in the West Bank,
22 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

Gaza and Israel in September of 2000, for example, foreign news agen-
cies dispersed Handycams to young Palestinian men and women who
took part in the conflicts. This production scheme yielded a large quan-
tity of images shot from extremely dangerous positions which profes-
sional journalists and documentarians would consider too risky to explore
by themselves.
The eruption of the second Palestinian Intifada also marked the end
of what has been called the peace process period of the 1990s and the
beginning of a violent era that shook Hebron as much as the rest of the
West Bank, Gaza Strip and Israel proper. This Palestinian uprising con-
sisted of demonstrations, gun attacks and bombings of Israeli civilian tar-
gets. In turn, Israel’s retaliation was massive, using its air force and tanks
for the first time to invade Palestinian cities. Hebron quickly became a
battleground. The separation regime introduced by the army and the
settlers during the 1990s reached new extremes. The army declared large
portions of the old city area as so-called sterile zones in which different
restrictions on the freedom of movement of the Palestinian population
were imposed. Palestinian traffic and commerce were banned in central
areas in the city and frequent, prolonged curfews were declared. Basic
needs—such as going to school or hospital, visiting friends or buying
groceries—became nearly impossible feats. Not to mention sustaining a
business. In this situation, the risk of being attacked by the settlers or
the army in the so-called sterile zones grew substantially. These hard-
ships forced many Palestinian families who resided in the adjacent areas
to leave their homes and take temporary refuge elsewhere. Settler youth
broke into many of these homes and damaged them in a way that return-
ing became a huge investment.
Between 2002 and 2003, Palestinian grassroots activists joined
by international and Israeli activists started building a new anti-
occupation movement based on the principles of popular unarmed strug-
gle. This movement tried to resist the occupation and delegitimize it
through demonstrations and direct actions in several places in the West
Bank. Between 2004 and 2005, resistance took place in the Old City of
Hebron, aiming to fight against the policies of the separation regime.
Still largely unavailable for the local population at the time, Handycams,
brought by international activists, became an important resistance tool of
this movement.
It is perhaps hard to imagine today, but, in the early 2000s, mobile
phone cameras were still rare, particularly in the West Bank and Gaza.
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 23

Those that existed produced low-quality images and could not record or
store a large amount of footage. The Handycams thus allowed for the
capturing of numerous incidents of violence by the settlers or the army
on tape. News organizations published these videos, exposing the arbi-
trary violence under which the local Palestinian residents of Hebron were
living. This, in turn, popularized the notion that more documentation of
the daily life in the separation regime would be a useful mechanism for
changing the situation in Hebron both by prompting public debate in
Israel and by creating an international pressure on the country.
B’tzelem, an Israeli nongovernmental organization (NGO), has been
operating under this motto since 1989. Trying to document and expose
the human rights violations under the occupation, B’tzelem initiated a
project called Shooting Back around 2005. As part of the project, it dis-
tributed dozens of cameras to Palestinian residents in the West Bank
who were encouraged to capture what went on in their environment.
B’tzelem, then, collected these recordings and tried to leverage them in
the political, judicial and public arenas in which the Israeli Occupation
was being challenged. What is interesting about the Shooting Back pro-
ject is that the violent events related to the occupation are not the only
materials on the tapes. Some of the recordings portray intimate family
scenes shot against the backdrop of the violent reality, of which Snow
Tapes, a rare documentary work by filmmaker Michael Zupraner, is an
excellent example.
Snow Tapes documents a family scene in which the Al Haddad family
in Hebron watches their own videotape filmed with a B’tzelem distrib-
uted camera. The motivation behind this documentary is the request by
the Al Haddads to get back the video they have recorded, which shows
a group of settlers trespassing on their property, hailing snow-covered
stones at the house and threatening the family. It was shot by one of
the children, an 11-year-old boy, who shakes out of fear as he tries to
hold the camera steady while being pelted with these snow stones. The
Al Haddad family sits in the living room, watching this tape not for
the documentation of the violent incident but for the images of snow
in Hebron. Though the tape enabled the family to file a complaint
with the Israeli police against the aggressors, Al Haddads’ use of it as
a rare memory of snow in their city is a painful reminder of the abyss
that exists between how people who live in conflict zones perceive their
lives and how their lives are perceived by outside observers and audiences
elsewhere.
24 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

In 2005, yet another technological landmark affected the trajectory of

the documentation of the occupation—the advance in streaming tech-
nology and the launch of YouTube. News and documentary coverage
no longer needed to pass the traditional gatekeepers, such as journalists,
filmmakers, commissioning editors and distributors. At times when the
search word “Hebron” reveals thousands of videos on YouTube, it may
be difficult to imagine a period, not too long ago, when a news story or
a documentary film was the only access point into the occupied city of
Hebron.
In 2007, one video, shot in Hebron and uploaded online by
B’tzelem, shocked viewers all over Israel and around the world. A family
from the Tel Rumeida neighborhood in Hebron, one of the most noto-
rious spots of settler oppression in the city, sent the coordinator of the
Shooting Back project a tape they had recorded. The B’tzelem volunteer
who reviewed the tape found a clip that the family did not mention to
the organization as noteworthy because they perceived it to be a mun-
dane occurrence. The clip is about two-minutes long. The camera, seem-
ingly held by a Palestinian woman, records from inside what appears to
be a fenced cage. Another woman, an Israeli settler, stands outside this
cage on the street. She approaches the camera held by the Palestinian
woman and commands:

                                                      Settler woman:
                              Get back in your house! Close the door!

The woman holding the camera resists her verbally.

                                                      Palestinian woman:
                              Stay out of here! I won’t close the door. I don’t
want to go in.

A man’s voice is also heard.

                                                  Man:
                              Get the fuck back into your house!

As the camera moves franticly, the viewer sees that the man speak-
ing is an Israeli soldier, and the cage is made of an iron net built around
the entrance door of a house from which the Palestinian woman records
the incident. The settler woman continues to hover around in a threatening
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 25

manner, and suddenly she rushes toward the camera. Entering the “cage,”
she slaps the camera, which sways from the blow.

                                                          Settler woman:
                              Get the camera out of here! Turn it off!

The Palestinian woman seems frantic.

                                                      Palestinian woman:
                         Call the police, what does she want from us?

                                                              Soldier:
                         (Apparently the woman was speaking to him) Do
you think I understand Arabic?

Now the settler woman approaches the camera again, her finger raised
threatening. But, this time, she only puts her face close to the cage and
starts howling at the Palestinian woman.

                                                          Settler woman:
                              You whore….whore….whore….

The Palestinian woman, who seems like an animal locked in a caged,

answers in a frantic voice.

                                                  Palestinian Woman:
                            You are! You are! You are!

At a certain point, the settler woman really puts her face in the cam-
era, only the iron bars separating her from the lens and howls in a crazy
manner.

                                                  Settler woman:
                        Whore….whore…

The scene goes on like this for about two minutes. At a certain point,
one of the Palestinian girls spits at the settler who spits back at her.

                                                           Settler:
                          Don’t you dare leave your house! Do you hear me?
26 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

The clip became viral instantly. It represents what I feel is a revolu-

tionary moment in the documentation of the occupation. The depicted
event is an everyday occurrence in Hebron, much less important politi-
cally than other events that have been filmed by news crews during the
same period. Yet, it transfers the essence, the meaning of the extremity of
the situation to the viewer, which is important for a number of reasons.
On the one hand, the clip’s effect on the viewer is both shocking and vis-
ceral. The dangerous violent atmosphere and madness of the situation are
conveyed in a way that leaves the viewer shaken. On the other hand, the
clip also relays vital information about life in Hebron, even if it does not
contextualize or clarify the incident. The viewer may find it surprising,
for example, that the Palestinians have set up the cage-like structure to
protect their house from their settler neighbors. The Israeli soldier in the
scene does nothing to interfere, but he has an important role. He is there
to supposedly maintain order, and his armed presence reminds the viewer
what might happen if the family retaliates against their violent neighbors.
Following the huge streaming success of this clip named Sharmuta
(Whore), filming and distributing such materials online became an
important aspect of the struggle against the occupation. As a result, a
new kind of documentation and a new kind of struggle became inter-
twined. This mode of resistance was initially established by the
B’tzelem’s Shooting Back project. Since then, however, Palestinian
groups, settlers and the army, all shoot and upload videos that promote
their own perspective of the Hebron story.
The burst of uncontrolled exposure of lived experiences under the
occupation that followed was not comfortable for the Israeli govern-
ment. The army could upload different videos shot by soldiers, but until
recently, when Palestinian resistance resorted to more violent modes of
operation, the military and settlers were highly unsuccessful in telling a
different story. Israel was thus faced with a dilemma: What should it do
with this sudden abundance of cameras in the occupied territory? One
can imagine that the confiscation of cameras was considered, but by the
end of the first decade of the twenty-first century, cameras and phones
were so widespread that efforts to block the filming would themselves
turn into videos that would not serve Israel’s image as the only democ-
racy in the Middle East.
This dilemma is exemplified in a clip filmed by a B’tzelem volunteer
in Hebron in 2013. The clip depicts the moment when some soldiers
decide to detain a 5-year-old boy, who has allegedly thrown stones at
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 27

them just minutes before. It shows the soldiers telling a local man to take
the boy by the hand and climb into the Hummer jeep with them. The
boy cries, terrified to enter the jeep full of soldiers. Inside the jeep, there
is another teenager who seems to know the little boy and tries to calm
him down. The little boy continues to cry helplessly.
The heartbreaking image of a frightened 5-year-old boy went viral and
immediately became yet another visual icon of the madness of the Israeli
Occupation. What most people shared online were these few highly
emotional scenes, but what happens later in the video is also important.
The boy calms down, as he understands that the soldiers would likely
not hurt him. The soldiers take him to his home and locate his father.
The father is detained, and the whole group marches toward a nearby
military outpost. At this point, something that speaks volumes about
the army’s awareness of the constant presence of cameras happens. An
officer, who arrives on the scene, takes the time to explain to the soldiers
what the real effect of their action is and the need to think about their
media representation.

                                                   Officer:
                 Hello. Can we have the boy sit inside so he won’t be filmed?
                                                  Soldiers:
                What?

The officer explains what he means.

                                                  Officer:
                These kinds of actions, in terms of PR, they damage us.

At this point, the officer turns around and points to the camera.

                                                  Officer:
                This guy’s gonna sit here waiting for us…

He pauses, as he understands he is being recorded, to address the

camera in Arabic.

                                                  Officer:
                              Can you back up please?
28 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

The camera moves a step back, still remaining pretty close to the
scene.

                                                  Officer:
                              A bit more please.

The camera moves back another step. The officer sighs and turns back
to the soldiers.

                                                  Officer:
                       There is always someone here like him. It’s not only
B’tzelem. There is always some dick here with a cam-
era waiting for you guys to do that one unnecessary
thing…

The officer does nothing to the man filming him; instead, he tries to
improve the general image of the occupying force. In fact, in response
to a question posed to the army by the B’tzelem legal department, the
Occupation Central Command has sent a formal letter to the organiza-
tion to clarify that Palestinian residents are allowed to film what happens
to them and that the army is not allowed to restrict them unless there is
a specific security threat.
The clip is evidence of the discourse that still takes place in Israeli
society around the B’tzelem videos and their effect on the occupation.1
Do the cameras tie the hands of the army as the settlers claim? Do they
restrain the army’s actions as the human rights community proposes? Do
they create anti-Semitism in the world, as politicians who incite their fol-
lowers against B’tzelem suggest? Do the cameras give Israel further legit-
imacy as it can prove (with the above-mentioned letter, for instance) that
it is a democracy that allows the documentation of government actions
even in the context of a military occupation?
The answers are certainly not easy ones. However, what the popu-
lar usage of camcorders and cell-phone cameras unquestionably shows
is that yesterday’s media subjects have become today’s documentarians.

1 Currently, B’tzelem is demonized in Israel. It is being framed as a treacherous organi-

zation by the head of the state, and its offices need a 24-hour security system. A recent leg-
islative motion in the Israeli Knesset aims to make the publishing of images, such as those
captured by B’tselem, punishable by up to 5 years of imprisonment.
 2 50 YEARS OF DOCUMENTATION: A BRIEF HISTORY … 29

The people, who have been documenting in Hebron over the last dec-
ade, are the very people who used to be the subject of the documen-
tary materials produced by journalists and filmmakers. In other words,
the documenter is now not an observer but a stakeholder. According to the
traditional documentary process, the person who does the documenting
comes from outside of the community and reports about the reality in
Hebron. This new situation is much more egalitarian, but it is not with-
out its own share of problems.
One concept worth looking at is context. The traditional documenter,
doing work for a media outlet, regardless of his/her political views on the
occupation, is responsible for providing context for the images and usu-
ally works under an editor who sets production and distribution standards
and agendas. The sharing mechanism associated with these crowdsourced
images, however, obviates these functions. The viewer on the web is a dis-
tributor in his/her own right, and is free to provide any context for the
shared images because the streaming platform (whether YouTube, Facebook
or other social media venues) does not have such requirements. As a result,
there is no longer any systematic accountability regarding context.2
There is also a revolutionary change in the form itself—the single shot or
the short sequence is an autonomous unit of documentation in the current
media environment. Previously, a shot (even if it was crowdsourced) had to
be a part of a longer sequence, whether a reportage or a film of some sort,
in order to be viewed by audiences. Today, with the existence of online
streaming platforms, the single shot and the short sequence are both valid
forms that are viewed by millions of viewers. It seems that the audience has
come to terms with this new way of viewing. It is worth asking, however,
what kind of viewing experience does this form create? If we imagine view-
ing an hour-long succession of YouTube clips about the Israeli Occupation,
would we understand anything about the situation? I argue that such an
experience provides less understanding and more disorientation. In other
words, such viewing experience leaves us with a feeling that the occupation
is a terrible chaos, a hopeless situation beyond comprehension.
Though the reality of the occupation might be tough and evil, it has its
own logic and basic foundations from which the filmed events derive. The
logic of the occupation, along with the ideas that it is based on and the

2 B’tselem’s website (https://www.btselem.org/) offers elaborate facts and context along

with the videos it publishes. Nevertheless, not all parties sharing B’tselem content uphold
the organization’s standards.
30 R. ALEXANDROWICZ

underlying cause of the violent events caught on camera, is what viewers

need to understand. The possibility to comprehend, however, is lost in the
contemporary documentation form of dispersed and context-lacking clips.
There is yet another aspect of this emerging form of documentation
that is worth thinking about. In the new media environment, it seems
that violent images proliferate even more. This phenomenon—the more
graphic the material, the more it can be perceived as newsworthy—is
certainly not new. Yet, due to the sheer availability of smart phones and
cameras and the type of access they enable, coupled with the elimination
of regulation and accountability by broadcasters and distributors, crowd-
sourced videos from conflict zones have become ever more violent, vis-
ceral and graphic. In turn, this creates a growing news demand for even
more graphic images, and this cycle of increasing availability and demand
has an effect on the act of documenting. To think about this, I turn to
another clip shot by a B’tzelem volunteer in Hebron in 2012.
As the clip starts, the viewer sees an alley, which is likely being filmed
through a first or second-floor window. In the first few seconds of the
shot, the viewer sees an Israeli soldier sneak back around the corner of
the alley as if waiting for something. Then the soldier disappears from
view. But the person holding the camera does not turn it off and con-
tinues filming the empty corner for a long time. The viewer can see the
camera shaking and hear the filmer breathing in efforts to stay still. The
viewer may lose patience with the empty shot, but s/he can viscerally feel
the patience of the person filming. This goes on for some time, making
the viewer wonder: Who is holding the camera? Is he a man? Is she a
woman? Is the person young or old? And what is it that they are waiting
for? Finally, after what seems to be a very long time, footsteps are heard,
the camera is lowered and a young, six, maybe seven-year-old child is
seen walking in the alley toward the corner. The camera focuses on the
child and follows him from a high angle position. As the child crosses
the corner, the soldier, who has been waiting behind all along, grabs
him. The child immediately starts crying, begging for mercy and calling
for his mother. The soldier, in response, asks him something inaudible.
Another soldier arrives on the scene and kicks the boy hard. Then the
soldier lets go of the child, both soldiers leave, and the child runs away.
This clip, which I call an ambush for an ambush, demonstrates how
people living in conflict zones, such as the Israeli Occupation of Hebron,
have developed documenting skills as a mode of survival. The person
shooting this video is certainly not a professional, but she or he not only
knows what to do, but also has very good documenting skills in terms of
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