I saw three photographs
¾È¾Ïµ¿Æ÷ÀåÀÌ»ç this week which felt significant. The first was the image of 10 murdered
¸Á¿ìº»µ¿Æ÷ÀåÀÌ»ç Rohingya men in a grave in the village of Inn Din, shown to the court. This was the massacre exposed by Reuters reporters Kyaw Soe Oo and Wa Lone. The journalistic world
Àϻ굿±¸Æ÷ÀåÀÌ»ç rewarded them with a Pulitzer Prize; Myanmar handed them more than 500 days in prison. Aung San Suu Kyi's legal team
À̹ÌÅ×À̼ǿ©¼º½Å¹ß À̹ÌÅ×À̼dz²¼º½Ã°è À̹ÌÅ×À̼ǿ©¼º½Ã°è=À̹ÌÅ×À̼ǿ©¼º½Å¹ß À̹ÌÅ×À̼dz²¼º½Ã°è À̹ÌÅ×À̼ǿ©¼º½Ã°è
suggested it was a gratuitous and tasteless picture to show.
When it was the Nobel Peace Prize winner's turn
ÀÌ»ç°ßÀû=Æ÷ÀåÀÌ»ç°ßÀû
to put something on screen she chose a snap of a smiling crowd at a football match in Maungdaw township in Rakhine State. Buddhists and Muslims united, shoulder to shoulder. It felt a strange, naive and weak response to the Inn Din photo.
The third and final photograph was sent to me by a Burmese colleague in Yangon. I received it just as Aung San Suu Kyi was addressing the court for the final time. It showed a tank on the street.