Aside from Botero, surprisingly few major artists have taken on the subject of torture at Abu Ghraib. One notable exception is Richard Serra, who translated the iconic image of the hooded prisoner with outstretched arms into a crude grease-stick drawing framed by the slogan "Stop Bush." It may be that the incidents in Iraq have yet to be culturally digested. And perhaps some artists also feel that the photographs taken by the American guards and later released to the press are themselves the most powerful visual indictments of the crimes committed there.

Yet Botero, by tackling this imagery in a focused and extended series, has demonstrated not only that such things can be represented in art but also that a figurative, cartoonish idiom may be the most powerful means of representing modern atrocity. It's no coincidence that one of the most profound and affecting works of Holocaust literature—Spiegelman's Maus—is a comic book. To some viewers, the chubby figures in Botero's paintings may appear ridiculous, grotesque—but so were the monstrous abuses of power to which they testify.