However, as is well documented, the pictorial representation of the conflict in Vietnam was rarely a matter of east versus west. Indeed, the relative freedom granted to western journalists meant the NLF routinely went out of their way to protect correspondents, knowing full well the value negative portrayals of US imperialism had in the battle for hearts and minds.
It is here that Stallabrass re-introduces the iconic war photography of the 1960s and 1970s. The stacked bodies of women and children after the My Lai massacre; Phan Thi Kim Phuc running naked, arms outstretched as the skin is burnt from her body - these images have become much more than pictorial reportage from Vietnam; they are deeply embedded symbols of western imperialism, integral parts of the lexicon of anti-war movements that are intrinsically linked to a host of political and cultural baggage reaching deep into the western psyche.
However, by exhuming these prints Stallabrass has deliberately set us up to approach the pictures from a new perspective. One cannot help but relate these images to the ones we know are coming later, leading us deeply depressing conclusions on the omnipresence of human brutality.
(Above) Seen through a night-vision device, paratroopers conduct a raid on a suspected terrorist's home in Fallujah, Iraq. The Soldiers are assigned to the 82nd Airbourne Division's Company B, 1st Battalion 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment.
This photo appeared on www.army.mil
That is not to say of course that familiarity has stripped these photographs of their shocking ability to uncover the more harrowing angles of our nature. In Steven Curtis’ ‘The Enemy’ a group of South Vietnamese officers share a joke over the splayed corpse of a young girl stripped naked save the partial cover of a tarpaulin.
We see Tim Page’s shot of a reconnaissance track crew member laughing to the camera as he raises the arm bone of a dead NVA soldier to his nose in crass impersonation of the ‘savages’ he has been sent to fight.
Of course professional western photographers couldn’t relay the worst of what was occurring in Vietnam – even the most liberal of publications wouldn’t dream of publishing such images.
However, the impact their coverage had on domestic opinion taught western governments a harsh lesson on the consequences of freedom of the press, with the result that a majority of what we see from Iraq has come from embedded journalists – photographers and reporters herded around the country by the US military.
(Above)1.53 am Oct 20 2003. Detainee is handcuffed in the nude to a bed and has a pair of panties covering his face, the Abu Ghraib prison, Baghdad, Iraq.
While the work of these photographers shown here still manages to voice condemnation of the conflict, at the heart of this exhibition lies a set of images not from photojournalists but from the personal collections of US service men and women.
A black wall divides the second half of the exhibition space. On one side is printed photos published by the US military of soldiers playing with children, chatting informally to local Iraqis and handing out sweets. On the other lies an extended collection of images from Abu Ghraib.
This is the reason entrants to this show are warned of the disturbing nature of its contents. The images on display here are some of the most horrific examples of human cruelty published in recent times, and it is soon apparent that the images taken by SPC England and her colleagues that were circulated through the western media were the most palatable of a very, very bad bunch.
When confronted with images such as these, aesthetic considerations are irrelevant. What we do need to reflect upon is whether these images will survive and gain the iconic status granted to their Vietnam counterparts. An image of the broken shell of a child’s head will shock even the most desensitised of modern viewers.
However it is unlikely images of Iraqi casualties will penetrate our collective consciousness to the same extent as the works Don McCullin, Philip Jones Griffiths et al did almost half a century ago.
The tragedy Stallabrass has underlined is that while there may be striking similarities between the images on display here it is their influence over us as a society that has changed.
