This is a time for self-reflection by the Mail & Guardian and all who work for it. As of this week, we are no longer owned by a large foreign company, the Guardian Media Group. The paper is now the property of a small Botswana-based company owned by Trevor Ncube, a Zimbabwean publisher.
Ncube has a reputation for political courage and independence of mind in publishing in our subcontinent that is second to none. Remarkably, in the political and economic chaos that now afflicts Zimbabwe, Ncube has also managed to run two other newspapers he publishes, The Independent and The Standard, at a profit.
It is a tribute to the Guardian that, as it gives up its controlling share in us (it retains a 10% holding), we have only one criticism of it. It is of its excessive generosity during the time it controlled us. This generosity protected us from the rigours of the market over a very difficult period. It enabled the M&G, alone among the generation of ”struggle” publications started in the 1980s, to survive and to become a leading exponent of independent, and sometimes troublesome, journalism in our new, democratic era.
Now, however, the M&G must survive — and thrive — in the market place. There are no more deep, pound-laden pockets behind us. And a good thing, too.
There is a further change implied in the takeover. We assume a more manifestly African character. We come under the leadership of someone who is, in many respects, African ”Renaissance man”. He embodies many of the characteristics that motivate, and must drive, our hopes for a resurgent continent. He is a political pluralist who understands the creativity of disagreement; he is confident in his Africanness and free of the defensive nationalism that bedevils our politics; and he is an entrepreneur.
We have always known what we stand for on this newspaper. That is ”democracy, diversity and debate”, in the words of a member of staff who has worked on the M&G since its beginnings in 1985. In the past, this commitment placed us in profound conflict with the former apartheid regime. In our new democratic era, it has also, occasionally, meant we have found ourselves at odds with some in the government and the ruling party — that is, with people with whom we feel naturally aligned on the bigger issues.
The time has now come for us on this newspaper to extend our commitment. Africa is in the process of establishing new standards by which to judge itself and new institutions that we all hope will help take us to resurgence. We at the M&G may mock unrealistic expressions of hope about what the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (Nepad) can achieve for the continent. We may despair at the prominent roles that dictators and rogues will play for some time yet in the newly-created African Union (AU). But we unreservedly lend our weight to the struggle to take South Africa, our region and the continent to prosperity and peace for all. In doing so, we embrace the hopes and key principles that underpin Nepad and the AU.
Within our young political institutions, our readiness to criticise has sometimes been seen as negative and destructive, even traitorous. We believe this is an unjustified and unfortunate judgement. But it is, perhaps, understandable, given the legacy of our horrible history. That legacy has made criticism sometimes seem like scorn.
Scorn is an attitude most easily adopted by the privileged. And, where scorn has seemed to be directed at, say, the way in which programmes to uplift the poor are being implemented, that scorn has sometimes seemed like contempt for the hopes of the poor. There are many instances in which criticism, scorn and contempt have been equated.
This leads us to believe that, if the M&G is to play the role it is capable of in our national and regional affairs, we will have to better convey to others how important we consider criticism, and how different it is from scorn and contempt — or treachery. For us, criticism is an act of loyalty; it is a requirement for the correction of error and for renewal.
The flip-side of our loyalty must be a willingness — a greater willingness than in the past — to ensure that the other side of a dispute is heard clearly in our columns and that we praise where praise is deserved. For us, praise is a form of encouragement; a spur to greater effort. It should never — and will never — involve us in toadying to the rich or powerful.
Under his ownership, Ncube has said that the M&G will continue to be a ”home for courageous journalism”. He and we would have it no other way. We will probe, investigate, comment, host debate — and sometimes annoy. We will report the news and, as is our wont, sometimes make the news as well. We will not be a different newspaper. What we will be, however, is a better newspaper.