by Irene Soave
“There will be many more Buchas.” AP’s Rodrigo Abd became the first photographer to document war crimes: “Prisoners in the basement for a month, among the bodies of their loved ones”
A foot, still intact, sticks out of a pile of five charred bodies. A dog approaches its owner who was killed in the yard. A woman carries her cat in her arms and steps over the bodies of her brother and husband. A body found in a basement with its hands behind its back. A basement full of dead bodies, none of which were alive. What Rodrigo Abd, 45, a photojournalist with the Associated Press, saw in Bucha, he recounts in the captions to his photos, which editorial offices can use. His footage, along with that of his colleague Vadim Ghirda, who was the first to march into Bucha with him, represented a point of no return for Western public opinion: they document mass graves, summary executions of civilians, mines, the left the Russian army everywhere in retreat. Abd has been a war photojournalist “for more than twenty years” and was part of the AP team that received the 2013 Pulitzer for photos from Syria: “I was also in Afghanistan. Before that I spent years documenting the executions of criminal gangs in Guatemala and Mexico. I’m used to photographing violence and death. But I’ve never seen so many dead at once.”
How was your start in Bucha?
“We were warned that Irpin and Bucha were free and we left as soon as possible. Sunday morning we drove into Bucha. The impact was very hard, we started seeing bodies one after the other. A gentleman told us to look at the mass graves and we understood that we were facing a massacre ».
What stories do civilians tell you?
“Terrible. Everyone who is alive now was locked in the basement for a month, either in hiding or in jail, and survived. They all want to talk, tell stories, talk to everyone they see on the street, someone is crying like a Fountain, someone does not even cry. Yesterday I visited an apartment where the Russians had a headquarters: today they cooked outside, whoever was there, they said they have been in the basement for a month, without electricity and water. There still many wineries that have not opened, the more we open the more, I have a feeling we will see horrors. There are many more dead, many more mass graves. Many other Buchas ».
Where do you think?
“If we can ever enter Mariupol when the Russians leave, who knows what we will see. Kharkiv, Mykolaiv. We’ll see everything when the Russians are gone. It’s a gigantic thing.
His photos are punches in the stomach. What are the rules?
«My job is not only to inform you, but also to build up a historical archive of a war. To document it, also for the future. And then, of course, to raise awareness. I try to do this work with respect, it’s a priority. But they must be powerful and document what is happening. It’s a delicate balance. We must tell the atrocities ».
In the media, behind the scenes of social media, there is a constant debate about whether to post such crude photos.
«The only public I limit myself to are the real or imaginary relatives of the victim. I come from Guatemala, a very violent country. Every day I photographed victims and scenarios of urban violence, organized crime massacres. My limit is: if the daughter of the dead sees the newspaper, can she be mad at me tomorrow? Can she be humiliated by this? If the answer is yes, I try not to take this picture. The people involved in the events I am documenting already have pretty horrible lives ».
What about his sensitivity? How do you feel at the end of a working day in Bucha?
“Eh. Bad. I’m struggling to sleep and I put a bottle of vodka by the bed. I need to drink something and then maybe I’ll sleep. It’s difficult to see what we see and especially to smell the smells that we smell ».
What smell is it?
“Disgusting. In Irpin, I went for a walk with a friend. Don’t walk like that, they told me. There’s a dead body lying in the middle of the street. I didn’t notice. This smell hit my nose and it didn’t want to go away. I would describe it as something that permeates you and stays in you for a long time, that you feel blocked from. And it always worries you. You walk among the dead all day. It’s very sad. It’s a smell I like I’ve smelled it in Guatemala, in El Salvador, in Mexico, in Syria, in Afghanistan. But you never learn to forget. You’re just trying to be technical, if you’re paralyzed by what you see, you’re useless, and then you might as well stay at home. My technique is to stay steadfast, strong and focused to contribute to history and to the future. But then I wake up in the morning and I have to go to Bucha again. Today I saw an old woman, 74 , which all day between the L Oaks of her brother and her husband were waiting. She stays there for hours amidst that smell.
Six reporters have already died in this war.
“Yes, but where I am, the Russians have gone. We are safer ».
The distribution of his photos in Russia is forbidden. Except to define them as “wrong”.
“Really? Unbelievable. I knew it”.
His photos have contributed to the formation of many opinions about the conflict. Did she get one?
“My rule is don’t do anything about it, don’t talk about geopolitics. It’s not my job. But what I find incredible is that we are in a world that never changes. Families suffer the most. Also the Russian ones. I see decapitated Russian soldiers who look like children or collapse near their chariots. I always try to believe that wars are a thing of the past, but it never happens ».
April 5, 2022 (change April 5, 2022 | 23:19)
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