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New York Magazine's Daily Intelligencer spoke with the photographer behind the image, Victor Caivano, who said that the attack happened at around 11:20 Monday evening, long after "the protest was over, riots included."
The woman appeared to be a "normal, middle-class university student," he said, adding that she was standing alone on a "deserted corner" after the police had cleared the area.
He continued:
Three riot officers approached the woman and told her to leave. When she objected -- the woman either questioned the order or insisted that she wasn't doing anything wrong, Caivano recalls -- she was pepper-sprayed. "This policeman just didn't think twice," Caivano says.
The woman stumbled backward, "screaming and cursing." She was detained and taken to a police van. Caivano says local reporters are now trying to track her down.
The photograph has drawn obvious comparison to two similar images of the unbridled use of pepper spray, each encapsulating the fierce police brutality that too often goes hand-in-hand with such demonstrations.
One is of a woman named Ceyda Sungur--the 'woman in the red dress'--who, during a recent protest in Istanbul's Gezi Park, was bombarded by an officer who shot pepper spray directly into her face.
"The jet sent her hair billowing upwards," wrote the Guardian at the time. "As she turned, the masked policeman leapt forward and hosed down her back. The unprovoked attack left her and other activists choking and gasping for breath; afterwards Sungur collapsed on a bench."

"To see unarmed, unaggressive bystanders who, by virtue of their location at a time and place where trouble was brewing, were assaulted by authority figures spraying burning, toxic, chemicals, is an unforgettable visual," writes columnist Lorraine Devon Wilke. She continues:
Likely there are many more that occur every day; these particular ones exist as iconic moments that symbolize bigger movements, of countries, of people, even of students. These images are important historical documents of what happened, how, and to whom. Hopefully they will contribute, by sheer virtue of their shock value, to change, progress, and needed solutions; the agony of those attacked has to account for something of value.

_____________________
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |


New York Magazine's Daily Intelligencer spoke with the photographer behind the image, Victor Caivano, who said that the attack happened at around 11:20 Monday evening, long after "the protest was over, riots included."
The woman appeared to be a "normal, middle-class university student," he said, adding that she was standing alone on a "deserted corner" after the police had cleared the area.
He continued:
Three riot officers approached the woman and told her to leave. When she objected -- the woman either questioned the order or insisted that she wasn't doing anything wrong, Caivano recalls -- she was pepper-sprayed. "This policeman just didn't think twice," Caivano says.
The woman stumbled backward, "screaming and cursing." She was detained and taken to a police van. Caivano says local reporters are now trying to track her down.
The photograph has drawn obvious comparison to two similar images of the unbridled use of pepper spray, each encapsulating the fierce police brutality that too often goes hand-in-hand with such demonstrations.
One is of a woman named Ceyda Sungur--the 'woman in the red dress'--who, during a recent protest in Istanbul's Gezi Park, was bombarded by an officer who shot pepper spray directly into her face.
"The jet sent her hair billowing upwards," wrote the Guardian at the time. "As she turned, the masked policeman leapt forward and hosed down her back. The unprovoked attack left her and other activists choking and gasping for breath; afterwards Sungur collapsed on a bench."

"To see unarmed, unaggressive bystanders who, by virtue of their location at a time and place where trouble was brewing, were assaulted by authority figures spraying burning, toxic, chemicals, is an unforgettable visual," writes columnist Lorraine Devon Wilke. She continues:
Likely there are many more that occur every day; these particular ones exist as iconic moments that symbolize bigger movements, of countries, of people, even of students. These images are important historical documents of what happened, how, and to whom. Hopefully they will contribute, by sheer virtue of their shock value, to change, progress, and needed solutions; the agony of those attacked has to account for something of value.

_____________________


New York Magazine's Daily Intelligencer spoke with the photographer behind the image, Victor Caivano, who said that the attack happened at around 11:20 Monday evening, long after "the protest was over, riots included."
The woman appeared to be a "normal, middle-class university student," he said, adding that she was standing alone on a "deserted corner" after the police had cleared the area.
He continued:
Three riot officers approached the woman and told her to leave. When she objected -- the woman either questioned the order or insisted that she wasn't doing anything wrong, Caivano recalls -- she was pepper-sprayed. "This policeman just didn't think twice," Caivano says.
The woman stumbled backward, "screaming and cursing." She was detained and taken to a police van. Caivano says local reporters are now trying to track her down.
The photograph has drawn obvious comparison to two similar images of the unbridled use of pepper spray, each encapsulating the fierce police brutality that too often goes hand-in-hand with such demonstrations.
One is of a woman named Ceyda Sungur--the 'woman in the red dress'--who, during a recent protest in Istanbul's Gezi Park, was bombarded by an officer who shot pepper spray directly into her face.
"The jet sent her hair billowing upwards," wrote the Guardian at the time. "As she turned, the masked policeman leapt forward and hosed down her back. The unprovoked attack left her and other activists choking and gasping for breath; afterwards Sungur collapsed on a bench."

"To see unarmed, unaggressive bystanders who, by virtue of their location at a time and place where trouble was brewing, were assaulted by authority figures spraying burning, toxic, chemicals, is an unforgettable visual," writes columnist Lorraine Devon Wilke. She continues:
Likely there are many more that occur every day; these particular ones exist as iconic moments that symbolize bigger movements, of countries, of people, even of students. These images are important historical documents of what happened, how, and to whom. Hopefully they will contribute, by sheer virtue of their shock value, to change, progress, and needed solutions; the agony of those attacked has to account for something of value.

_____________________