The Image Makers section examines how a photo influences our view of reality. This week: just in time.
There are days when everything falls into place for a politician. Tuesday was such a day for the Prime Minister of the Indian state of Uttarakhand, Pushkar Singh Dhami. He was right there when the first of 41 construction workers were freed from the collapsed tunnel in which they had been trapped for seventeen long days. After their liberation, the survivors were festively decorated with flower wreaths. Indian Prime Minister Modi conveyed congratulations by telephone. And ‘chief minister’ Singh Dhami confirmed his joy on the spot by taking a selfie with his arm around the shoulder of a survivor.
Perhaps in case the press missed this excellent press moment, Singh Dhami himself took control with his smartphone. And with results, because on his Instagram the photos he shared of the celebration with him in the leading role were liked tens of thousands of times. Never let a good crisis go to waste, he must have thought, following Winston Churchill: a disaster is terrible for those involved, but also offers opportunities for shrewd politicians. They surf on the waves of emotions, something that does not necessarily exclude genuine concern.
About the author
Arno Haijtema is editor of de Volkskrant. He writes about photography and the way in which news photos determine our worldview.
Since November 12, millions of Indians have sympathized with the construction workers – ’41 heroes’, they called in the media – who became trapped in the tunnel under construction under the Himalayas after a worrying mass of rocks and sand blocked the exit due to a landslide. The population only received its first sign of life from the long-lost workers on November 21, when a camera was pushed through a tube to the room where the men turned out to be locked up. Cold, hungry, but alive. An emaciated, bearded face stared at the camera, a sight that suddenly turned the initial drama into an irresistible media event of hope and heroism.
What followed was a gathering at the mouth of the tunnel of TV reporters and photographers, reporting on the valiant efforts of the hundreds of rescue workers. They attacked the blockade with bulldozers, jackhammers and, finally, with old-fashioned pickaxes to be able to penetrate the unstable rock mass manually and carefully. The construction workers were supplied with supplies in their plight through the tube.
Chefs stepped in to prepare elaborate meals in front of the cameras. At the entrance to the collapsed tunnel, local residents erected a shrine for offerings to appease the gods: they suspected that the demolition of a temple that had been demolished for the tunnel construction had aroused divine anger. Minister Singh Dhami was photographed praying in front of the makeshift Hindu shrine.
In the meantime, relatives of the victims gathered who, unlike most disasters like this, did not wait in despair for the inevitable disaster, but watched with hope as the rescue operation progressed.
On Tuesday they saw how their loved ones were finally freed and taken to hospital by army helicopter for a medical check. They were also welcomed there by the concerned Singh Dhami. The rescuers were proclaimed heroes of the nation in the Indian media, and the minister must have felt how their success reflected on him as well. As usual, success has many fathers.
For national administrators like Singh Dhami and Modi, the life-saving operation came at the right time for another reason. An international conference on occupational fatalities started in Australia on Tuesday. According to the International Labor Organization, three million people die every year in industrial accidents, the vast majority in Asia. The risks are enormous, especially in construction. Twenty times as many workers died in India as in Britain in 2017, according to the British Safety Council. So there is work to be done for Indian officials to improve safety at work.
If they wanted to divert attention from the miserable working conditions, it was a godsend for the authorities that on the first day of the conference they were able to show off what reminded me most of a rebirth. The construction worker’s face in front of the camera: an endoscopy in the womb. The tunnel: the birth canal from which the newborns emerged. And of course, after the birth: the unfeigned joy of the bystanders, most of whom had no other intention than to save 41 lives.