India has been severely affected by the second wave of the COVID-19 pandemic. As the country struggled with a healthcare system in shambles, India’s graveyards were overwhelmed. To cover the reality on the ground, independent media from all around the world decided to show the ghastly reality. Multiple photojournalists who documented the cremation grounds were hounded by trolls on social media for having violated the dignity of the dead. This piece explores whether documentation of ground realities violates the post-mortem human rights of individuals.
Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.” The question that arises, however, is whether this dignity extends to those who are not alive. The Equality and Human Rights Commission for England and Wales states, “human rights are the basic rights and freedoms that belong to every person in the world, from birth until death”. However, different commissions in different states tend to have different interpretations on whether human rights extend beyond life.
The National Human Rights Commission India recently issued an advisory to the central government to enact laws to protect the dignity of those whose bodies had been displaced and mishandled due to cremation centres and graves being overwhelmed. The Commission argues that the same leads to a loss of dignity for both the victim and their families who suffer grief from not just the death of their loved ones but from the mishandling of the situation itself. This advisory implies that even after death, we still hold autonomy over our body, and, more importantly, our bodies and the treatment of them affects our living relatives.
This brings into discussion who it is that must fight and uphold someone’s human rights after they are dead. A few examples explore this question. First, there is the Henrietta Lacks case, in which the family was told years later that their relative’s cells were being used for breakthrough cancer research, which led to them being given shares in benefits and power over decision-making regarding the usage of the same. More recently, in Elberte v. Latvia, the European Court of Human Rights heard a case relating to a person’s organs and tissues being removed for usage by a pharmaceutical company without the consent of the deceased’s wife. These cases push the narrative that it is essential to obtain consent from the family of the deceased.
The use of visceral images in media to show the reality of wars, pandemics, and genocide has often drawn sharp criticism as it is seen as too extreme where there is no consent from the victims. The use of imagery from mass graves in India, overburdened cremation centres, or dead bodies floating in the river Ganga can trigger those who have lost their families. However, the documentation in India is not based on one image of a person to signify a larger tragedy; instead the focus is on covering the larger picture, where mass graves have become a common reality. The impact is that this journalism, as visceral as it may be, helps gauge the scale of the tragedy. It imprints the need for the protection of human rights of the living and in some cases brings to the attention of human rights commissions the need to pass ordinances where dignity of the dead needs to be maintained. Following international coverage, the National Human Rights Commission of India stated, “mass burial or cremation should not be allowed to take place as it is in violation of the right to dignity of the dead”.
It is understandable that in scenarios such as these, images can be overwhelming—but they often create visibility for classes most affected and with the least agency. They serve the purpose of protecting human rights by bringing into public conscience tragedies that often go unnoticed. This imagery used in India right now is distinct in its nature from the cases mentioned above, as the central focus is not just singular life stories, but the larger narrative. This however should not take away from the rights of families or the dignity of the dead.
Singular images used, without consent, though, get attached to a cause or to a tragedy without any benefit being afforded to those who suffered. These images, when limited to specific, identifiable individuals, can be a breach of the pictured’s personhood and end up involuntarily attaching these persons’ lives to a cause or a tragedy. Without consent, this is to be regarded as a violation of one’s human rights.