A presentation made during a debate on the Staff rider Exhibition, The Market Theatre, December 1990

My name is Steve Hilton-Barber and I was born in Tzaneen. I am a working photographer and have been active in journalism for five years. I have also been consistently involved in documenting the apartheid struggle and my work has been published widely in the progressive and international press. My work has also been featured in several books and exhibitions. Last year my essay on Die Vo‘lvry Tour, an alternative Afrikaans music tour, received a merit award in the Staffrider Exhibition. I was until this year part of the Afrapix photographic collective which played a central photographic role in the struggle for a nonracial democratic South Africa.

Much has been written and debated on the role of the documentary photographer. Although I wonÕt delve into academic discourse, I feel that it is essential here today to briefly outline my understanding of what my role is as a documentary photographer.

I have attempted as a documentary photographer to both honestly and accurately photograph different subject matter in their specific social contexts. Like many others in my field, I have attempted to act with integrity and with a with a sense of responsibility and sincerity. One of the most enduring problems faced by documentary photographers is that of the distance between themselves and their subjects. This is an issue which I continue to grapple with in my work. For some time I have found it necessary to free myself from the dictates of the commercial news market and concentrate on documenting the South African society in more depth and with more compassion. Having said this, I am both saddened and concerned at the response to my essay on a Northern Sotho initiation ceremony. Before addressing my reasons for photographing this ceremony and all the criticisms leveled against myself and my work, I wish apologise to everyone that I have offended. It was never my intention to offend anyone. I sincerely hope that this debate will contribute to a greater understanding of both the ceremony itself and the problems faced by documentary photographers in this country.

It was my concern that this ritual should be documented, not only to add to the growing photographic cultural heritage of our country, but to help educate, enlighten and broaden understanding of different cultural practices. I did not photograph the ritual, as someone suggested, in order to win ÔR2 000 and some fameÕ. In fact, the photographs were taken some months before the Staffrider Awards were even advertised.

I have been accused of a number of things, But what concerns me most is the increasingly violent and intimidatory nature of these criticisms. Some of these criticisms have been tinged with a racist chauvinism that is not only disturbing in itself but can hardly bode well for the development of a progressive and critical culture in South Africa.

People should consult the Market TheatreÕs visitorÕs book so they may acquaint themselves with a few enlightened critiques of my work. Here are some examples and I quote: ÔGo fuck your mother up her arse, you expose my cultureÕ and Ôshow us your own secrets of white women making love to dogs and forget our cultureÕ, and ÔFuckoff you white racist bastardÕ, ÔGo and get fucked you donÕt know what you are doing, expose your own culture and letÕs see your foreskin with all the diseasesÕ and ÔBlacks are again pawns in the white propaganda chessboardÕ and finally ÔGo back to Europe with your camera you bastardÕ. .

This racist-sexist mishmash is clearly confused, emotional and resentful and some of these comments donÕt warrant reply. There is also an element here of Ômisplaced embarrassmentÕ. But I have come here to contribute to photographic debate and not to toilet-wall graffiti.

Others have, more seriously, accused me of the following: of violating all the ethics of ethnographic photography, of violating the sacredness of a ritual, of exploiting a racist altitude towards nakedness, of portraying the initiates as being barbaric, a spectacle, insensate objects, of sensational description. And others have accused me of portraying blacks as barbarians and animals and have confused nakedness with pornography. Some have even suggested that the photographs should not have been taken at all, that I as a white photographer had no right to document this ritual.

Let me address these criticisms one by one, although some of them overlap. Firstly, the accusation that I have somehow violated the ethics of so-called ethnographic photography is a confused criticism. As I have already stated, I complied with the basic ethics of documentary photography. I had permission to photograph the ceremony and publish the photographs. I did not mislead, manipulate or deceive anyone at any stage. Both the initiates and the organizers knew exactly what I was doing. I attempted to document a situation in a way that would allow the situation to speak for itself, It seems as if nothing short of a major anthropological thesis would satisfy my academic accusers. But I am a documentary photographer and not a cultural anthropologist. .

Clearly, my access to the ritual and my relationship to the principal of the school can be interpreted in many different ways. Some say I am a white opportunist who manipulated the racist power relations in our society in order to gain access. Ironically, this assumption is itself racist and paternalistic. It assumes that the principal of the school is a weak, subordinate man who is unable to control access to the initiation ceremony in the face of a powerful Ôbaas van die plaasÕ. It assumes that the only way a Ôwhite photographerÕ could gain access is by manipulating or bribing his way through people who lack integrity. I want to assure you that not only is the principal of the school a proud man of integrity but that I in no way exploited the power relations in our society in order to gain access. I want to remind the audience that if I had not been circumcised myself, not only would I not have been granted access to the ceremony butl would have respected that decision. Secondly the notion that I have violated a sacred ritual seems to suggest that by photographing a traditional cultural practice one violates it. This is ludicrous. Did National Geographic violate the Ndebele initiation ceremony by photographing it? Do photographs of Jewish circumcisions violate that ritual? Do photographs violate Christian and Muslim religious practices? .

I believe that my photographs violate nothing. The criticism seems to suggest that the written word does not violate but the photograph does. I have not revealed anything that was not already known. The initiation ritual has existed for hundreds of years and countless publications and authors have dealt with the subject. I have merely given it a visual face .

These photographs have not suddenly emerged out of some secretive vacuum. On the contrary, the initiation ritual has been the subject of constructive criticism and debate during the last year. The ritual has not been treated as sacrosanct or above debate amongst traditional leaders and political organizations. Instead of defensively or aggressively shielding the ritual from the public eye, various leaders are prepared to investigate mechanisms, through education, consultation and consensus, in order to bring the ritual in line with modern medical standards. I can only hope that these photographs will contribute to the preservation of the initiation ritual in a medically safer form.

Thirdly, the view that I have exploited a racist attitude towards nakedness is equally absurd. Am I to be held responsible for the fact that white nakedness is censored? The censorship of white male nakedness is the repressive creation of Christian Nationalism. It is not my creation. The photographer dues not determine either the censorship policy of the state or the editorial policy of the publication in which photographs are published. .

In a related criticism my work has also been called pornographic. It seems as if some people have confused their own insecurity about nakedness with pornography. But pornography is designed to arouse sexual excitement in an audience. Documenting a ritual in which people are naked is in no way a perverse attempt to arouse sexual excitement. Nakedness is not pornography. I strongly disagree with the repressed, moral conservatism that believes that the portrayal of nakedness is unacceptable.

Fourth there is the criticism that I have sensationally portrayed the initiates as barbaric, insensate objects. My photographs are a factual documentation of a particular cultural practice and attempted to record this ritual as accurately as possible. This criticism involves the question of perception.

It is a question which relates to an individualÕs own feelings about the ritual and all its manifestations. I cannot be held responsible for the fact that certain people might actually view the initiation ceremony as a barbaric practice. This says more about themselves and the way they view African culture than the photographs themselves. Unfortunately apartheid has created some very peculiar perceptions. The documentary photographer can only hope to help break down some of these misguided and negative perceptions.

Finally and most importantly should these photographs have been taken at all? Yes, definitely. I have recorded a ritual that is widely practiced throughout Africa and which is central to traditional African culture. It is part of the experience of millions of African men. Therefore, I feel this document is important.

But I would appreciate a criticism of my work that focuses on the standard of my photography and not on the colour of my skin.