“We’re in for it this time.” That was the overriding sense in our newsroom on a balmy Thursday afternoon in November. The high-jump, that is.
The Scorpions had sent a terse fax. Either you undertake not to publish your story, Ms Editor, or we will interdict you! “Go on, make my day,” the rebel in me wanted to reply.
My mother’s good breeding transposed that to the polite “I¹m afraid I can’t accede.” We had been cruising to the finish line, putting the lipstick on three editions of the next day’s newspaper.
The Democratic Republic of Congo would lead the Africa edition. A three-horse race to lead the Democratic Alliance would lead the Western Cape. In the rest of the country, we were delivering the latest installment on our national police commissioner Jackie Selebi’s tango with Glenn Agliotti, a Mafioso with expensive taste and a generous hand.
Agliotti, we planned to report, had splashed huge dosh on the commissioner and his sons buying them Fubu and Hugo Boss natty dreads.
The story had all the hallmarks of a splash; the interdict attempt was the wet blanket.
It was our third in three months. Between May 2005 and the end of 2006, six interdicts have been sought against newspapers. What’s going on here?
There is a discernible trend toward pre-publication censorship and it is shameful.
The attempts at gags have come from the private sector (the former MTN boss Maanda Manyatshe and the suspended CEO of the Post Office Khutso Mampeule); the civil society sector (the Jamiatul Ulama and the Muslim Judicial Council); the state (the Scorpions and the South African Broadcasting Corporation) as well as the quasi-private sector (Imvume Management, an African National Congress funding front company).
In each, the art of journalism has come under attack; the role of the fourth estate has been denigrated. All the applicants have paid lip service to Section 16 of the Constitution (which protects and affirms media freedom) and then argued forcefully for why they should be the exception to the section that is at the heartbeat of society.
If everybody and every sector of society is an exception, what will become of the rule?
It is no hyperbole to say journalism has come under attack.
Both the Scorpions and the SABC leveled accusations of theft at the Mail&Guardian. It was as if being in possession of classified or top secret documents automatically equated theft.
Investigative journalism is always about documents, information and detail that somebody does not want aired. It is the currency of the world¹s top investigative work.
The noble value of dignity is also being confused with privacy. In both the Maanyatshe and the Imvume cases, the complainants have averred that their dignity would be impaired if the story was outed. Really? The dignity of black South Africans was trampled by apartheid and it is this which our constitution-makers intended to make right in the founding document. Yet, the clause is now being used when the privacy rights of individuals are challenged by the public interest.
In the cartoons case in which organized Islam sought to ensure that Sunday newspapers would not even consider publishing, there was an assumption that religious dignity will always trump freedom of expression. As one of the young men on Channel Islam told me in exasperation, “At some point, Ferial, you’ve got to put freedom of expression aside.”
The question we as citizens must decide is at which point? In the end, the judge in the Scorpions matter, did make our day. He ruled unequivocally that the dangerous dance between our top cop and the mafia was of vital importance to public confidence. Already dampened by the saga, an interdict would only serve to further erode that confidence. Viva for now.
It was the third gag attempt which hit a brick wall. The judicial tide is turning against gags. It’s the popular tide that keeps me tossing and turning.
Ferial Haffajee is the editor of the weekly Mail & Guardian and the chairperson of the South African National Editors Forum.