In the Shadow of the Wall

The much-maligned Israeli Security Wall has been a faithful muse for photojournalists over the past couple of years, with countless photographers trying to bring some sense and understanding to the 400-mile long barrier separating Israelis and Palestinians.

So what is it about the wall that fascinates us, and what are we to learn from their efforts? Is it the sheer audacity with which it was built that attracts attention, or the way its size and scope physically scars the landscape? Maybe it’s the stories of the people living in its shadow? Or is it the natural tension that surrounds this physical barrier dividing Islam from the West?

The wall is certainly a hyper-charged issue, inflaming the passions of Israelis and Palestinians on both sides. Many people even debate what to call it: wall, security fence, separation barrier? But in America, at least, it seems that we know little and care even less about how people live in such a divided land. In fact, to deal with our own immigration problems, some in Congress would like to see us build our own separation wall along the Mexican border.

No matter what their political persuasion, many of the top photojournalists working today follow the tradition of the great humanistic photographers like W. Eugene Smith, with a little Robert Capa derring-do thrown in for good measure. It's these photojournalists who do more to tell the story of the wall -- or at least force us to look at it and acknowledge its existence -- than almost anyone else.

Take Ziv Koren (third from left), for example. Koren, one of the most passionate and dedicated Israeli photojournalists working today, discussed the wall on Friday's airing of "Henry Rollins Uncut from Israel" on the Independent Film Channel (IFC).

Rollins, the burly, straight-edged punk rocker-turned-actor and spoken word artist, somewhat simplistically declared Israel's wall a "hassle" on everyday life. Koren agreed, before elucidating further:

"It does prevent suicide attacks," Koren asserted. "It's very hard for the Palestinians to smuggle in explosives since the wall has been built." But, he admitted, "It’s a disaster for the people living here."

I didn't catch the exact name of the village Koren and Rollins visited, but it's the typical situation where the city has been cut in half, with families often split on either side of the wall, enduring humiliating checkpoint rituals just to visit loved ones on the other side.

Koren translated a bit of graffiti written in Hebrew on the wall by a 12-year-old child: “This was not my country" that did this.

Another photographer who knows a thing or two about separation walls is German-born Kai Wiedenhöfer, who just this week showed me an advance copy of his new monograph on the subject, appropriately titled “Wall” (Steidl).

Wiedenhöfer, who studied Arabic in Damascus before graduating from the University of Essen in October 1995, has traveled extensively throughout the Middle East to document the changes brought about by the autonomy agreement between the Israelis and the Palestinians. One of his stated goals is to "improve the Western world's understanding of Islamic countries." In 2005 he won a Getty Images Editorial Grant for his project in the wall. In his essay accompanying the project, Wiedenhöfer compared Israel's wall to the Berlin Wall of his childhood:

The remaining part of the Berlin Wall which stands today serves as a constant reminder of the political conflict that separated Germany for more than 25 years. A message scribed in graffiti on the wall reads, “Wall of shame stands now in Israel.”

Wiedenhöfer's "Wall" is both an elegantly photographed indictment on the wall and a sober-eyed examination of the passions and protests it has stoked since the first concrete was poured in early 2004. Shot with a 6 x 17cm panorama camera he borrowed from a friend and a Fuji GX617 panorama camera and lenses lent by Fuji Film Germany, the book's slender, horizontal format accentuates the way the wall shapes the physical horizon for the people living in its shadow. The pictures are uninterrupted by text, and you have to flip to the very back to read the captions.

After his brief New York stop last week, Wiedenhöfer is off to San Diego, where he is photographing along a 14-mile stretch of fence separating San Diego from Tijuana, Mexico. Some in Congress would like to see this fence expanded along the entire U.S./Mexico border.

These issues of walls and borders and man's inability to mix and mingle with other cultures are not easily solved or even understood by a book of photographs, much less a single image. But books and photos are often where the conversation begins, and the first step towards understanding.

One can't help but look at the work of Wiedenhöfer, hear the words of Koren, and think of the trite but true cliché: it's better to build bridges than walls.

--Jay DeFoore

Photo Credits: Top, cover of "Wall" by Kai Wiedenhöfer

Bottom Photo by Jay DeFoore: "Moises Saman, Hayne Palmer, Ziv Koren, Jonathan Torgovnic, Benjamin Lowy and Patrick Andrade at the Visa pour l'Image festival of photojournalism in Perpignan, France, September, 2003. "