Hebron Kahsay ’26
The Vietnam War, which lasted from 1955 to 1975, was the first widely televised and photographed war. Often referred to as the television war, it was held responsible for increased public distrust of the government (Mandelbaum). The photographs and media painted imagery that questioned the morality of war, thus bringing the brutal realities of war right into American households. Media coverage made the war transparent, forcing the public to question the war’s legitimacy.
The government can do no wrong.
Growing up in South Seattle in an apartment complex known as Sunset View, I faced my own war through the firsthand effects of gentrification. As the rent rose, the number of neighbors who looked like me declined. I lost friends, a majority of whom were Somali, African, and Hispanic, whose shared experiences would always bring me comfort. Unable to feed their families or afford their rent, many in my community felt outcast by the government. It broke apart what held us together for so long and shattered our sense of belonging. The media didn’t cover my story, but it was apparent that my community was quickly and silently being broken apart.
The government can do no wrong.
On February 1st, 1968, American photojournalist Eddie Adams captured the photo referred to as the “Saigon Execution”. The photo shows a South Vietnamese police chief shooting a Viet Cong Soldier at point-blank range under no real duress or threat (Adams). The people saw what looked to be a pointless death at the hands of American allies. Instantly, the tide
was turned against the government as the photo spread nationwide, garnering attention and sparking Americans’ perception in ways only visuals could (Astor).
The Vietnam War made people believe change was necessary, but the war on gentrification was swept right under the rug of those living room television sets. I thought it was nothing, maybe just different times. But I kept thinking how one oppression could be exposed, and the other never sees the light of day?
The government can do no wrong.
At Sunset, I watched kids my age sell drugs in the empty blue carpet staircase leading up to their apartment, come home from school early to take care of their sick grandparents, and fight to retain respect in a community ignored by their own government. I saw people fighting for a territory in a place where they were destined to fail.
The government can do no wrong.
The Pentagon Papers, leaked by Daniel Ellsberg in 1971, detailed years of information relating to the government’s misleading and less-than-moral escalation of war (Gold 7). The suspicions of the majority of the public were affirmed as the papers revealed the government was retaining information and lying to the public about its intentions and conduct in the war. To retain a strong front, the government attempted to sensitize the spread of the papers and arrested Daniel Eisenberg for his role in the distribution of them. Yet the world was already informed and necessarily, nothing that the government could say now could lead the public to believe they were telling the truth. The strength of the media provided undeniable truths that no amount of government suppression could hide from the people. Along with this, it eliminated any chances of governmental and public consensus on the war itself.
The government can do no wrong.
Sunset wasn’t a place of hate and destruction; it was assumed to be so. The story was about high crime rates, no support systems, and gangs. But never once was that story clear. Why were so many people relying on this? Was it for fun? Were they crazy? Was my immigrant family there to cause harm? The story was never transparent because suppression became better than the truth.
The government can do no wrong.
The media shaped the Vietnam War by unveiling the power that imagery and storytelling had on the American public and government. The public witnessed the horrors of war, which allowed them to empathize with their enemies. The media became an important part of shaping public opinion, aside from the narratives of the government. As conflicts were televised, the public could hold officials accountable and question the intentions of the government they abide by.
The government can do no wrong.
The truth was hidden; my community wasn’t filled with criminals; it was filled with families, culture, and perseverance. My community wasn’t invisible, but its visibility was tarnished. The media only covered communities riddled with problems, focusing on the problems themselves. The government placed statistics on them but never revealed why those problems existed or why those numbers were the way they were. Visibility shifts power. The Vietnam War proved that, and my community’s silent war proved that.
The government can do wrong, and visibility reveals that truth.