Abbas Attar better known by his mononym Abbas was born 29 March 1944 in Khash, Iran. He was known for dramatic black and white photographs delivered with a point of view. Abbas was a member of Sipa Press from 1971 to 1973, a member of Gamma from 1974 to 1980, and joined Magnum Photos in 1981. He had dedicated himself to documenting the political and social life of societies in conflict. In his major work since 1970, he had covered wars and revolutions in Biafra, Bangladesh, Northern Ireland, Vietnam, the Middle East, Chile, Cuba, Balkans and South Africa during Apartheid.

Abbas loved to tell people that he was born a photographer. It’s easier than having to explain that it was growing up as an Iranian immigrant during the Algerian war that actually got him into it. Throughout that conflict, he felt that he witnessed history in the making and it was that revelation that made him want to become a journalist. At the age of 18, he became the Sports Editor of his local daily newspaper Le Peuple but it didn’t take long for him to realise that he felt far more comfortable showing off his pictures then he did struggling with writer’s block. Before joining Magnum in 1981, he had already put together a rather impressive photographic CV: the Mexican Olympics, a multitude of wars and what very well may go down in history as the boxing match of the century – Muhammad Ali vs. George Foreman.

Abbas referred to his photographs as prompts, there is a photo from 1968, of three family members sitting together on a front stoop, with two others talking in a passageway behind them. This image, as he explained, confirmed his decision to pursue photography, capturing as it did a ‘suspended moment’ – a phrase he would use throughout his career to explain his distinct mode of documentation. “I’m not freezing a situation, I’m suspending it,” he said sagely. “I want it to seem like the subjects kept doing things after the picture.” Abbas Attar

African-Americans resting on their porch. U.S.A. Louisiana, New Orleans 1968.
Abbas Attar

From 1978 to 1980, Abbas photographed the revolution in Iran. When the events that resulted in the overthrow of Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi in 1979 began, Abbas supported change, but he soon became disillusioned with Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, who took over the government. “When the revolution started, it was democratic. It was my country, my people and my revolution. Then, slowly, it was being hijacked.” Abbas Attar

Demonstrators carry a poster of Khomeini, Tehran, January 1979.
Abbas Attar

Grand Ayatollah Kazem Shariatmadari meets with Ayatollah Khomeini, Qom, March 3, 1979.
Abbas Attar

It was then that Abbas decided to focus his camera on the religions of the world. “Before the Iran revolution I had no desire to photograph religion,” he explains. “But covering the revolution for two years I could see that the waves of passion [that were] raised by the revolution were not going to stop at the borders of Iran.”

“Well obviously, I didn’t know who these mullahs were… Then you find out. And they became more important. So I knew they were there, therefore they were important… As a photographer you just photograph everybody.” Abbas Attar

An unknown cleric carries a gun, Tehran, February 1979.
Gallery of Iranian Revolution
Abbas Attar

“They urged me not to show the negative side of the revolution for the world,” he said. “The violence would come from shah, not the protesters. I told them that it was my revolution too, but I still needed to honor my duty as a journalist – or a historian, if you want.” The revolution, however, had taken an interest in him for what people in the whole world did in the name of God.

He left the country in 1980 and during his years of exile, Abbas travelled constantly. Between 1983 and 1986 he journeyed through Mexico, attempting to photograph a country as a novelist might write about it. The resulting exhibition and book, Return to Mexico: Journeys Beyond the Mask, helped define his photographic aesthetic. From 1987 to 1994, he focused on the resurgence of Islam throughout the world. Allah O Akbar: A Journey Through Militant Islam (1994), the subsequent book and exhibition, spanning 29 countries and four continents, attracted special attention after the 9/11 attacks by Islamic jihadists.

“The choice was to think of oneself either as a photojournalist or an artist. It wasn’t out of humility that I called myself a photojournalist, but arrogance. I thought photojournalism was superior. I know that some photographers have big egos, but photography is simple. In the morning, you put a roll of film in your camera and today you don’t even have to do this with digital. You take to the streets, you come back home, edit your photographs and show them. It’s that simple.” Abbas Attar

I ask questions, I don’t leave answers. My readers should look for their answers. I give them the evidence, I hope. And the evidence is not objective, because my work is very subjective. But I try to be fair. I try to show as many aspects of the problem as possible.

Abbas Attar


“Most photographers, when they say they are war photographers, are not really war photographers, they are combat photographers,” he said in the video interview. “The war is not limited to the boom boom, to the battle itself. War is very, very complex phenomena, because they have a source, and it takes a while to come up, then it happens and there are consequences. I’m more interested of the war, why and afterwards.” Abbas Attar

When you are 35 you are immortal basically. People say, “Oh, great courage, great courage!” I tell you very frankly, physical courage is very often the lack of imagination. You can not imagine it will happen to you, therefore you go to the battle.

Abbas Attar


Abbas covered ‘Sarajevo under the Siege’, Bosnia and Herzegovina. He came to Sarajevo in 1993 and left behind a wealth of striking images and compelling photo essays which remain among the finest examples of photojournalism. This little tribute to him and his work is but a scratch on the surface, so make sure to visit his Magnum profile to learn more about the iconic photographer and be inspired with all his works.


In the frontline district of Dobrinja, garbage containers and sandbags protect passers-by from Serbian sniper fire. A young boy runs along, his small height making it unnecessary for him to duck down like adults when they cross the Bridge of Death. 1993, Sarajevo. The rest of his gallery from Sarajevo.
Abbas Attar | Magnum

Despite its accompanying cold, Sarajevans love snow. While falling, it protects them from Serbian sniper fire. Children skid on sledges, unaware of the danger of mortar or artillery fire which can strike any part of the city at any time. 1993, Sarajevo.
Abbas Attar | Magnum

One of his most heart-wrenching photographs taken in 1993 shows the body of a young boy, killed in an explosion Sarajevo, as it’s washed down in a morgue. The eyes are still open, the face still animated. “You could see a boy still dreaming boyish dreams.
I broke down [but] I kept taking photographs, of course,” Abbas says, showcasing both his innate empathy, and his overriding compulsion to document humanity at its most extreme.

NEXT SLIDE IS THE PHOTO IN QUESTION.
VIEWER’S DISCRETION ADVISED.

A boy is washed (Ghusl) in the muslim tradition before burial, killed by a Serbian mortar attack on his school. 1993, Sarajevo.
Abbas Attar | Magnum

According to Abbas, there are two approaches to photography: one is writing with light, and the other is drawing with light. The school of Henri Cartier-Bresson, they draw with light, they sketch with light. The single picture is paramount for them. “For me, that was never the point. My pictures are always part of a series, an essay. Each picture should be good enough to stand on its own but its value is a part of something larger.” Although his official biography states that he was a ‘born photographer’, Abbas told Magnum of how a road trip through New Orleans in 1968 made him a ‘professional’. He explained how through the making of his first photographic essay he learned the significance of sequencing in order to build a narrative.

Abbas, an Iranian transplanted to Paris, returned to Iran in 1997 after a 17-year voluntary exile. His book Iran Diary 1971-2002 is a critical interpretation of its history, photographed and written as a personal diary. “What was fascinating about Abbas was that he was very tough and rough but, at the same time, very sweet and kind, and extremely fair. I found this mixture really unusual,” says Kamy Pakdel, the director of a documentary about the Iranian image-maker, titled Abbas by Abbas. “His behavior and character were really reflected in his pictures.” says Kamy Pakdel.


“I don’t just make stories about what’s happening. I’m making stories about my way of seeing what’s happening.”


Abbas Attar

He was a pillar of Magnum, a godfather for a generation of younger photojournalists. Citizen of the world who relentlessly documented; its wars, its disasters, its revolutions and upheavals, and its beliefs – all his life. It is with immense sadness that we lose him. May the gods and angels of all the world’s major religions he photographed so passionately, be there for him.” Magnum president Thomas Dworzak


“Let the photos live their lives and keep their mystery.”


Abbas Attar

ABBAS ATTAR was born 29 March 1944 in Khash, Iran.

He died in Paris 25 April 2018. He was 74.





Translated by Mustafa Corbo
Music used: ‘Close Up Theme’
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