Good journalism is grounded in a dislike of special privilege, a contempt for anyone who suggests that they stand above the law, a deep-rooted scepticism of special pleading of any kind. This being the case, journalists can hardly claim professional privileges which other citizens do not enjoy; the rights and responsibilities of the media and its practitioners are no more and no less than those of everyone else. You cannot be an iconoclast and an icon.
That is why one has to be cautious of a knee-jerk, 1980s-style reaction to the recent spate of subpoenas handed out to reporters, photographers and editors, attempting to force them to hand over information to police investigating recent Western Cape violence. The argument against such subpoenas cannot be grounded in any suggestion that journalists are above the law, or have a special right to withhold information about crimes.
But there is a much more practical argument against such subpoenas. If journalists in situations of conflict — such as when mobs are burning their enemies – —are seen to take sides, they can themselves easily become the target of anger. This was evident in the past few weeks in the Western Cape when reporters and photographers found themselves at the receiving end of the fury of those who didn’t like what they had written, or believed their photographs might identify individuals in the mob.
When this happens, journalists cannot do their jobs properly, and the flow of information through the media dries up. The police and the justice system then suffer as much as the ordinary reader. That was what happened during the 1980s. When the media were stopped from reporting what was happening in the townships, it wasn’t township dwellers who didn’t know what was going on (after all, they were living in the middle of it); it was the authorities.
Police investigators will learn a lot more about conflict-ridden communities if journalists are left to do their jobs, to report the information they pick up.
That is why in most successful democracies the authorities and the journalists develop a tacit understanding that, as much as is possible, they will avoid interfering with each others’ daily work. Both parties do their own jobs better when they leave each other to get on with it.
Subpoenas are blunt instruments for gathering information; in tense and violent situations, they are crude weapons to use against journalists. There are times when a journalist’s professional ethics will force him to refuse to obey the court. Then he has to go to prison — – and that is not something desired by anyone who values a free media.
Subpoenas should only be used in the most extreme circumstances — when the situation is so serious that the authorities are prepared to lock up editors. Before issuing subpoenas, the authorities should be obliged to show that the case is serious enough to warrant such radical measures, and that there is demonstrably no other way to convict the criminal.
Last week’s subpoenas have been withdrawn, averting the immediate crisis. But the problem will recur unless there is a clear policy on the part of the authorities to ensure that all possible effort is made to avoid this crude treatment of journalists.
Otherwise they will find themselves with editors in prison, while the gangsters continue to walk free.