The photograph known as “Napalm Girl,” officially titled “The Terror of War,” has long been considered one of the most poignant images from the Vietnam War. The true carnage of a napalm attack in South Vietnam illustrated a tragic and devastating moment. As she ran toward the camera, her skin was so burned it was peeling off, and wails of anguish were pouring from her mouth. To her left, two other Vietnamese children run away in fear. To her right, a young boy with a look of unmitigated pain etched on his face, frozen in time. This incendiary image is perhaps one of the most important in turning American public opinion against the Vietnam War.
Photograph by Nick Út, June 8, 1972. It’s still awash in controversy, having won a Pulitzer Prize and incited anti-war demonstrations among millions of viewers across the world. Now a new documentary—“The Stringer”—is turning this widely accepted narrative on its head, calling into question all we know about the photograph’s authorship. The movie suggests that Nguyễn Thành Nghệ, one of NBC’s taxi drivers, would be the true architect of this world-famous photograph. He would occasionally sell photos to foreign news outlets, which only deepened his dramatic tale.
In 1994, Nghệ sold the photograph to the Associated Press (AP) for $20 and a print. Yet for decades, he was denied any credit for his groundbreaking work. The documentary posits that Nghệ was better positioned to capture the moment than Út, raising questions about the ethics of photojournalism and historical accuracy.
“The Stringer” explores these topics in depth. It includes conversations with those who witnessed it as well as historic footage of that fateful day in Trảng Bàng. The new context provided in the AP’s analysis offers new illumination on the iconic photograph. They argue it probably wasn’t shot with the Leica camera typically associated with Út.
The controversy surrounding the photograph’s origin underscores a larger issue in journalism: the erasure of Vietnamese voices in narratives about the Vietnam War.
“Vietnamese journalists have really been erased from the narration of their own war,” – Knight
In the documentary, Nghệ expresses his belief that the investigation into the photograph’s authorship must proceed independently from concerns about reputations.
“The investigation has to live independently of those kinds of concerns.” – Nguyễn Thành Nghệ
He urges a far-reaching act of self-examination within journalism, arguing for confronting inconvenient truths instead of dismissing them.
“The process of self-examination might be inconvenient, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be done,” – Nguyễn Thành Nghệ
The controversy over the photo brings to light some important issues about the accountability within journalism. Knight, a scholar prominently featured in the documentary, thinks back to his own ignorance about the contributions made by Vietnamese photographers.
“To be fair, I couldn’t name anyone other than Nick Út before I started this story, and I’m a student of that war,” – Knight
He notes that scores of other Vietnamese journalists were openly trying to do their jobs during that time.
“But dozens and dozens of them were working for the foreign press.” – Knight
The documentary invites audiences to reconsider who tells the stories surrounding significant historical events and to reflect on existing power structures in journalism.
“If journalists are going to hold everybody else in the world to account,” – Knight”we have to be able to ask difficult questions of ourselves.” – Knight
Even in light of its historical significance, the photographs often becomes a complicated artifact of both war and media representation. Sir Don McCullin, a legendary British photojournalist, has described it as “the single best photograph of what would later be called ‘The Television War.’”
The story of “Napalm Girl” is about much more than simply naming its photographer. For them, it’s not just about driving representation, it’s about thoughtful impact of representation through journalism. Introspection, Nghệ reminds us, is both an individual and collective practice. It’s time for people and organizations to consider how they’ve contributed to history.
“And so I hope that we all can look deep inside ourselves and have a reckoning when it’s necessary.” – Nguyễn Thành Nghệ
This deep dive into the origins of one of history’s most recognizable images provides all of us in journalism a much needed moment of introspection. It pushes audience members to interrogate whose stories we center, and how these narratives shape public opinion.