The revelation put a new twist on the saga of an organization that, after becoming famous in 2010, became notorious in 2016 for its role in publishing hacked emails that were apparently obtained by Russian intelligence in an effort to sway the U.S. presidential election. Today the WikiLeaks story isn’t just about the line between transparency and security, but about the question of when the mere act of releasing information becomes information warfare.

The video of the killings of the Iraqis, dubbed the Collateral Murder video, appeared on the WikiLeaks site in the spring of 2010. It records, through a helicopter’s gun-sights, the moment in 2007 when the crew fired on a group of Iraqi men walking down a street in a Baghdad suburb, killing perhaps a dozen people—including two Reuters journalists whose camera gear they had mistaken for weapons.

In the uproar that followed the video’s release, the military said that it had investigated the incident in 2007 and found the killings to be unintentional. It faulted WikiLeaks for its packaging: Its editing of the footage left out the fighting occurring in the same neighborhood that day, making it seem as if the killings came out of nowhere; the Iraqi men appearing in the video are not engaged in any kind of violence, and appear to be casually strolling down the street. And still it was true that the U.S. military had killed journalists and had initially, and falsely, characterized their killing as a consequence of ongoing hostile action.

In retrospect, the moment suggested that WikiLeaks was changing. “WikiLeaks used to seem a lot simpler,” said Clint Hendler, a senior editor at Mother Jones who reported extensively on WikiLeaks in its early days for Columbia Journalism Review. “It used to seem to … be something pretty close to what its outward rhetoric was”—that is, a mere clearinghouse for secret documents.

Read: The astonishing transformation of Julian Assange

The leaks of diplomatic cables and Army documents about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan followed later that year, cementing WikiLeaks’ place in U.S. history as the conduit for what was then the country’s largest-ever leak of classified information.

The tension between national security and the public’s right to know was a familiar one dating back well before the famous Pentagon Papers case of the 1970s, when a leaker made public a cache of documents about the U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War. But new technology, and with it new capabilities to steal vast troves of information at once, brought new complexity to a debate that remains unsettled.