A few hours ago, an Azerbaijani soldier accompanied by his superior briefly detained and questioned me. I wasn't fighting in Nagorno Karabakh or trying to sneak subversive materials into the country. No. Worse, I took a picture. My target was a Soviet-era mosaic left on the wall of an abandoned A/C factory on the outskirts of Baku. I didn't even walk into the factory yard; I stayed a good distance from the building as there was no need to venture too close since the mosaic was plainly visible from afar. It was simply stunning - a masterclass of Soviet imagery in exceptional condition, but my contemplation was cut short, actually a mere seconds after I pressed the shutter release button when a soldier appeared literally out of nowhere and gently ordered me to stay where I was. What followed would have probably frightened a random tourist to death, but anyone with a modicum of experience photographing the "East" knows all too well that such unwanted interactions with authorities are a common occurrence for photographers. In this particular case, the impeccably-dressed soldier's superior joined the scene and quickly assessed that I posed no threat to the security of Azerbaijan. The whole affair was over in three minutes, and I was even let go without having to delete the only picture I could snap of the mosaic. One of the few sentences the soldier managed to say in English was: "You don't have to worry, everything will be fine". I did worry a bit nonetheless because the last time a figure of authority uttered this line to me after arresting me for "suspicious photography", it turned out that everything didn't go fine. 

Photography is often labeled as a "hobby", implying somehow that it's all fun and games. This simplistic view doesn't apply to the "East", a vague geographical term that, for the sake of convenience, I employ to refer to these countries in Europe and Central Asia that once belonged to the Soviet sphere of influence. This definition encompasses a broad area comprising around two dozen vastly different countries that share a few cultural similarities, including, for some of them, a strong aversion, sometimes bordering on downright fanaticism, toward photographers. Why is photography in particular so highly frown-upon and discouraged in these places? And more importantly, what can you do as a photographer to mitigate the risks and safely practice your activity? This short guide is an attempt to answer these questions based on my own experience and observations "on the field", but I have also relied on the experiences of other photographers, which all tend to point toward the same conclusions.

The Reasons Behind Banning Photography

Banning photography in "sensitive" locations, such as subway stations, railway stations, dams, official buildings, etc., is a direct heritage of the Cold War. Its enforcement was considered vital in order to protect these infrastructures from being analyzed by spies who could thus have passed sensitive information to the other side of the Iron Curtain. Forty years after the dismantling of the Curtain, the rule ceased to be enforced with strict severity in the Eastern countries that oriented themselves the most toward the West. This is why, for example, photography in the Czech Republic, Latvia, or Poland is nowadays relatively unproblematic and therefore not concerned by the information presented in this article. Other countries, however, not only maintain the archaic "no photo" rule but keep enforcing it with disproportionate severity. Here is the trick: the ban on photography is often wholly arbitrary and rarely announced. It is telling that every time I have been arrested by security agents, police officers, or soldiers for taking a picture, photography was never explicitly (nor implicitly) forbidden in the area. Usually, the more authoritarian and/or in a state of conflict a country is, the less leeway is given to photographers. Let's take Azerbaijan as an example again. A police state led by an authoritarian ruler and in constant military conflict with its neighbor. Photography here is so highly frowned upon that a local photographer wrote an online article listing all the random and innocent things you are not allowed to photograph in Azerbaijan. This is not only valid for Azerbaijan mind you. For instance, Armenia, on the other side of the border, proved even more challenging to photograph.

Some law-and-order enthusiasts defend the ban on photography as a totally valid and reliable way to prevent spying and terrorist attacks. They could not be more wrong. It is important to note that the ban on photography is based on entirely outdated motives and technologies. The only victims of its enforcement are tourists and legit photographers, no one else. Indeed, the ban is based on a complete misunderstanding of how modern photography works. Anyone with malicious intentions could circumvent the ban with extreme ease and take pictures of impressive quality right in front of a policeman without him noticing anything. This was also possible in the Cold War, but the fundamental difference between then and now is that a simple mid-range camera possesses all the functions to be turned into a powerful spying machine outclassing the most advanced CIA spying instruments of the 1980s. Even deleted pictures can be retrieved without difficulty. But nothing contributed more to render the ban obsolete than the advent of Google, which allows anyone to become a potential spy without leaving the comfort of their bed. The no-photo rule is enforced with particular severity in subway networks, supposedly due to their status as military infrastructures. Yet a simple Google search can reveal the appearance and layout of virtually every subway station worldwide. Uzbek authorities realized the utter uselessness of the ban on photography in the Tashkent subway and, in an unprecedented move, lifted the interdiction in 2018. 

You Will (Probably) Get Into Troubles

What to do once a security agent, a policeman, or a soldier catches you in the act? Simple: stay calm, and cooperate with their demands. You might be tempted to assert your rights and confront the figure(s) of authorities, but remember that in some countries, the extent of your rights is severely limited and this unruly behavior could likely aggravate your situation. In most cases, you will get away with nothing but a feeble warning and a brief look at the pictures you took previously. Sometimes, you'll have to delete the "forbidden" photos. These are the best-case scenarios and, thankfully the most common, but the situation can in some rare cases escalates out of control and reach dramatic proportions, especially if the police find any "incriminating" evidence on you. For instance, I got detained and interrogated by the Belgrade police for three hours because, by a twist of bad luck, I took a picture of the Palace of Serbia the day when an international summit was taking place inside the building. There was not a single "No Photo" sign whatsoever, but this did not prevent the local police force stationed nearby from arresting me. The situation took an almost comical turn for the worse when they found several Kosovo entry and exit stamps on my passport. They considered this sufficient proof that I had entered Serbian territory with malicious intentions. I got brutally thrown into a car and driven to the police station behind the palace. Perhaps nothing can sum up the ridiculousness of the situation better than the fact that I was eventually let go without having to delete the forbidden pictures. In the end, this disproportionate display of authority ended on a good note and was without consequence for me since I had not broken any rule. But cases of photographers who went back home without their SD card or camera are not unheard of.

Avoid sketchy tricks

It might be tempting to rebel against this stupid ban and stealthily snap images in locations where photography is explicitly forbidden. Forget about it. You could be caught by a policeman or a security camera and face serious problems. Remember, photography is seen with utmost suspicion even - especially - if you are a foreigner, and trust me, you don't want to have to explain to the police of an authoritarian state why you were discreetly taking pictures of a "sensitive" place (the definition of "sensitive" being sometimes quite extensive). No building, no subway station, no mosaic is worth potentially life-altering problems. Moreover, always keep in mind that random civilians roaming around and seeing you taking pictures can report your activity to the police, especially if they discover you are a foreigner. It actually happened to me once in Baku (again). Oddly enough, the unfortunate event occurred in one of the capital's most touristic spots: the "Alley of Heroes". As I was taking pictures of the seemingly infinite rows of soldiers who died fighting in the First Nagorno Karabakh War, a random passerby, who probably overheard me speaking in French with my girlfriend, went out of his way to search for a police officer and bring him to interrogate me. Of course, I noticed nothing until I felt a man's hand gently pushing my shoulder. I turned around and saw the policeman standing there, accompanied by the civilian who acted as an interpreter. He asked me why I was taking pictures. I replied that I was a tourist. His dour face suddenly brightened up and he announced that, in this case, there was no problem. He wished me a good day and left. Barely a few meters away, I counted at least five people taking pictures unbothered.

Conclusion

Photographing the East is an exciting adventure, but it comes at a risk. Always use common sense, do not flash your camera in locations patrolled by figures of authorities or where it is explicitly forbidden, and never forget that photography is often seen as suspicious in the aforementioned countries, so act accordingly and protect yourself as much as possible from unwanted troubles. That being said, if you have been the victim of overzealous policemen in the past, do not hesitate to share your experience with me so I can write a second part compiling your testimonies.