Allegations made in a documentary titled ‘The Stringer’, premiering at the Sundance Film Festival on Saturday 25th of January 2025, that Nick Ut is not the author of the photo, ‘Terror of War’, have prompted serious reflection at World Press Photo. The image won the
World Press Photo of the Year 1973 and people want to know what will happen with the award.
At World Press Photo we have a very
clear process for when allegations arise after prizes have been awarded. My initial reaction was to quickly come to a clear decision on the authorship of this photograph and its implication for our award. But after an eventful two weeks with lots of reaching out, reviewing forensic investigations, checking of facts and discussions, my perspective changed. The controversy concerns a complex wartime situation with different narratives of what happened more than 50 years ago.
Our values at World Press Photo are accuracy, trustworthiness and diversity, but in a situation where memories are clouded about events that transpired in the fog of war, I began to think that as a listening organisation, our most useful role is not as judge or arbitrator, but to create a space where we can have difficult conversations.
In certain situations simply recognizing doubt, contextualizing the situation, placing it in its larger historical setting may be as important as declaring which narrative is true. It’s a path that can provoke discussion around important issues in photojournalism and documentary photography. I believe that’s the case here.
For any impactful photograph, it’s important to understand the context. ‘Terror of War’ is an iconic image. Although words like iconic or legendary are vastly overused, this specific image defined a moment in history that marked a before and an after. It was an image of war that crossed borders and was able to explain the reality of war and create empathy. ‘Terror of War’ represents a moment with a huge impact, and its emotional power continues to live with us.
There is no question about the authenticity of ‘Terror of War’. It represents a real moment in history that continues to reverberate in Vietnam, America and globally. In this era of AI manipulation, the image itself is not in question; its authorship is, but it is important to note that this is not an attack on Nick Ut. His professionalism is not in question.
2025 is our 70 year anniversary. At World Press Photo we have learned a lot over the years. As an organisation we try to listen carefully, to create a space that can shed light on complexity. We strive to adapt and to respond responsibly as society and the world change.
World Press Photo has a large archive of winning images from the past 70 years and ‘Terror of War’ is one. In the past couple of years we have started a
critical examination of our archive. We believe that preserving, sharing, and fostering discourse around these historical records is a fundamental part of our mission. With that role comes the responsibility to reevaluate how stories have traditionally been told; to ask what stories dominated perspectives of the time? What was deemed most newsworthy, what voices dominated, and whose voices were excluded?
What became clear was that for most of the past seven decades, photojournalism was dominated by white, western, heterosexual males. Their perspectives both challenged and reflected the norms of their times. Vietnam was a particularly conflicted war, the first to be covered so intimately and extensively and bravely by photojournalists. Societies everywhere were changing but the media organisations that covered the war held a power structure that controlled not only what pictures were seen as important, but who took, edited and published them.
The currently recognized photographer of ‘Terror of War’ is Nick Ut, at the time a 21 year old Vietnamese staff photographer at the Associated Press Saigon office.This photo represents a rare, important war image taken by a local photographer to reach global audiences. Its authorship is challenged by another Vietnamese photographer, Nguyen Thanh Nghe, then a stringer in Saigon. He claims that he took the photo of the young girl fleeing napalm, and he was paid for it, but as a stringer, his authorship was never acknowledged after the fact.
Of course accuracy and authorship are crucial. I simply want to make the point here that diversity goes beyond whether the photographer was local or not. It touches on who had the power in the selection of the image, in writing the caption, in placing this image in the world’s spotlight, and, in the end, in attributing authorship. This controversy speaks to the power structure between individual local photographers and a big media organization. It highlights the importance of status and the role western white males have had, and arguably still have, in showcasing important news events that have defined human history. It highlights how history has been shaped by who and for what purpose.
53 years later, we look back from the bubble of our own social controversies. We are now able to dive into the archeology of an image taken half a century ago. Nonetheless, we need to accept that we may never know beyond doubt whether it was Nick Ut or Nguyen Thanh Nghe who made this image or for that matter, was it simply a mistake? Accuracy and authorship are essential to World Press Photo, but perhaps we need to focus our energy in this case into looking at the bigger picture. Acknowledging how complex the situation was, while not letting one account of history ossify our understanding.
After a full airing of facts and testimonies a decision will have to be made. Different actions may be taken by different parties. At World Press Photo we will, as we always do, think hard about our values in this case and listen hard to the various voices raised in our own organisation and beyond. But regardless of the outcome, ‘Terror of War’ remains an image seared in the minds of generations of viewers.
The lesson I take from all this, as the Executive Director of World Press Photo, is that it is essential to reflect on the historical position of the photographs judged in our contests, to ask ourselves what is being amplified, why and by whom? And then to deepen that discussion with an examination of our own practice.
Photojournalism captures a moment but in reality it is a process. In the world of photojournalism and documentary photography, we have benefited a lot from discussions on diversity in the field. Today it is in everybody’s interest to take these discussions further and to recognise that it is not only about who makes the images but also who the gatekeepers are who determine which images are seen. Ultimately the photojournalism field needs to ask itself how it can make meaningful and fair selections going into the future.
The story behind the ‘Terror of War’ controversy is a painful human story of two accomplished Vietnamese photographers, one whose career flourished and one who, possibly unfairly, remained in relative obscurity. They are however not the only actors in this drama, and that’s what makes this issue relevant now. It is important to recognise the underlying roles and interests of the decision-makers, institutional power, ideology and unconscious bias at various steps of the process. Nick Ut could not have decided himself whether to publish this particular image.
Photojournalism and documentary photography are here to stay. Despite AI, the increasing economic and security pressure and polarization facing this field, visual storytelling and the documenting of impactful events by real people who are witnesses will increasingly play a crucial part to the health of our political societies. But in order to do this fairly and responsibly, we need to be able to raise doubts if they are well-founded, to question ourselves, however uncomfortable it makes us. If we are to continue to be trustworthy in our vital role of informing the public, we need to squarely face the difficult questions of power and process.
