/ 25 July 1997

`War of words obscures truth’

The truth commission’s examination of the media should not disintegrate into squabbling over old grudges, writes Rex Gibson

THE trouble with scoring points is that the exercise can become … well, pointless.

Ken Owen’s account of his running battle with one-time Press Council chairman Oscar Galgut (Mail & Guardian, July 18 to 24) was marvellously entertaining and revealing of the protagonists. But I doubt it will help the Truth and Reconciliation Commission decide whether the anti-apartheid media encouraged a climate in which gross violations of human rights could occur.

And that, I suggest, is what the commission should focus on, because that is what it was created for. Reading Jeffrey Benzien’s chilling evidence of ritual police torture last week underlined the message.

I have feared all along that the commission, in exploring the role of the media, would find itself becoming a forum for lesser grievances and old grudges, promoting neither truth nor reconciliation.

So why, harbouring this reservation, did I get involved in writing a submission to the commission on behalf of Times Media Limited (TML)? The answer is simple: I have always felt passionate about the newspapers I worked for – the Rand Daily Mail, the Sunday Express and The Star – and the people I worked with.

For some time now I have had this feeling that good, honourable journalists who worked for fine, if flawed, publications were about to be crucified. In a piece I wrote many months ago, I argued that honest journalists who opposed apartheid had nothing to apologise for.

When the powers-that-be at TML (formerly South African Associated Newspapers) asked me whether I would write a submission on behalf of the company, the first question I asked was: “Have you read what I wrote? That’s what I feel.”

They had, and we agreed that I would write a document that reflected my assessment of the role SAAN/TML publications had played. It was clear that it had to be a personal, subjective account.

Because it seemed to me to be self-evidently true, I gave the company credit for observing editorial independence and permitting a diversity of outspoken newspapers, if not for much else.

I would like to be counted among the honest journalists. So would Owen, I’m sure. The reality is that Owen and I – and hundreds of others – continued to work on newspapers we respected even when we had lost respect for their proprietors.

When the Rand Daily Mail was closed amidst lies and deceit, I chose to leave the company because I could not bear the thought of working for it any more. Owen, finding himself confronted by a similar crossroads, chose to stay on and eventually accept editorship of the company’s flagship, the Sunday Times.

I say this not to score a point but to emphasise that working for companies that allowed their newspapers to oppose apartheid was not a dishonourable choice. I know that he – like me – would have resigned immediately if he had felt his personal integrity seriously threatened.

Curiously (since he promptly dissociated himself from my submission) I find myself in agreement with Owen on several points. By recounting the Galgut saga, he reinforced my own argument that press councils -in all their mutations – were more a nuisance than a deterrent. They did not succeed in cowing newspapers, though clearly the government would have liked them to have done so.

Like me, he seemed concerned that truth would be obscured by a welter of “unsubstantiated accusations of collaboration”. Formidable journalists were being defamed by generalised criticisms. He thought, with hindsight, that a Nuremberg- type trial – with its emphasis on specifics and rigorous testing of charges – was preferable to the truth commission process.

He argued effectively that the Newspaper Press Union (NPU), an organisation representing proprietors and managers, should be called to account for its policy of appeasing government. In my document, I did not go into detail on the NPU’s role, although I suggested it ought to be asked to explain itself. But I did say that if cosy, backstage deals were done, they were not imposed on me as an editor, and I didn’t find myself inhibited on that score.

So, frankly, I didn’t have enough information to play either defender or accuser, and I didn’t want to fall into the trap so eloquently identified by Owen of simply slandering the NPU on general principles, even though that would now be considered to be oh-so politically correct. But I have no quarrel with the demand that the NPU be called to account, and that its records be subjected to scrutiny.

Characteristically, Owen had a side-swipe at me too, in case I should feel neglected. He expressed himself appalled that journalists had been so “feebly defended” by me. I suppose we ought all to be grateful that a greater pen has now done the job. But I had hoped that he would detect that my entire submission was meant as a tribute to SAAN/TML journalists down the years.

This central theme was encapsulated in the introduction: “It [the submission] places on record what the TML board believes to be a proud history of keeping the South African public informed – the first duty of any newspaper – and of supporting the cause of human rights and justice in South Africa.

“It does not claim the record is without blemish. But this submission does argue that, thanks to a large body of good and honourable journalists operating in a stimulating climate, the company’s publications doggedly pursued the goal of seeking the truth. In particular, it rejects the allegation that these newspapers colluded with the Nationalist government.”

The submission went on to describe the immense pressures faced by journalists. I wrote: “A number of the company’s journalists courted jail – and at least six went to jail – for refusing to disclose the names of people who had supplied them with information in the public interest.

“Courageous reporters, caught in the cross- fire of a violently divided society, risked danger and death to cover the news – and returned to their offices to be confronted by some of the most draconian legislation ever devised. Black journalists were often detained without trial in terms of the notorious detention laws, and sometimes tortured.”

In summing up the contribution made by SAAN/TML newspapers, I concluded: “Above all, perhaps, they fostered an environment in which courageous and ingenious journalists could flourish, and some truth, at least, be set free.” Feeble?

But you see the problem, don’t you? Instead of the commission sitting down to consider whether the media was “one of the factors” leading to gross human rights violations – a very serious matter indeed – it risks being diverted by Owen and Gibson squabbling, and columnists sneering, and who-knows-who complaining about separate coffee cups. And even when it is all finally established, and we are all revealed to be imperfect, none of it will aid reconciliation or help the search for an ultimate and obvious truth.

The truth is this: Many people in the media opposed apartheid. Some did it effectively and others were bumbling. Their critics are demanding that they be pilloried by the commission for not doing well enough what the apartheid-supporting media did not do at all.

God help us if that sentiment prevails, because apartheid’s wounds cannot be healed that way.

— Rex Gibson is a former editor of the Rand Daily Mail and former deputy editor of The Star