In 1998 the then presidential spokesperson Parks Mankahlana invited political journalists and editors to an early evening informal meeting at the ANC guesthouse in Yeoville. There he apologised to them for having misled them on a story about Nelson Mandela’s wedding to Graça Machel.
I was touched by his humility as he admitted that whatever the justification for denying that the wedding would take place, it was simply inexcusable for him to have lied to the media with a straight face.
A self-taught communicator thrust into the role in 1994, Mankahlana was admired by many journalists for his willingness to engage and take them into confidence at a time when Mandela would sometimes lose it and go on wild tirades against journalists.
Mandela was greatly irritated by critical senior black journalists whom he believed were being used by their white bosses to attack a democratic government, a mess that Mankahlana had to clean up.
Mankahlana was always available to speak to journalists, both to give comment on the record and to have an off-the-record discussion. On that night in Yeoville, Mankahlana reached out to the media, emphasising that he needed them to do his work — and journalists duly embraced him.
I do not seek to eulogise Mankahlana — he was no saint. But I recall these events because on Friday the Government Communication and Information System (GCIS) will be handing awards to deserving government communicators. Many a sceptical journalist will ask: why should any government communicator at all be honoured, given the lethargy of most?
I know the head of the GCIS, Themba Maseko, and have come to respect him. I trust that these awards will seek to honour the spirit of those consummate professionals, such as Mankahlana, who believe in the power of engaging the media and constructively seeking to influence what we publish.
So, not deserving of any awards are those communicators in the police department who, in response to questions from the Sunday Independent about allegations of Minister Nathi Mthethwa’s spendthrift habits, sent out a response to all media a day before the allegations were published, attacking the paper and flooding our emails with responses to questions we had not asked.
Neither do those communicators from the presidency who phoned our political reporter last week to abuse her, accusing her of all sorts of agendas and flatly denying what ultimately turned out to be a true story — that the government was building a complex for President Jacob Zuma at his homestead in Nkandla.
Government should honour communicators who understand their role to be publicising government work through the media — not, as the presidency spokesperson said last week, to protect their principals at all costs. There is no need to shield the president from the media; if anything, he should be exposed to the media as much as possible.
And, to be fair, Zuma has been much more accessible than his predecessor. Given that he called a press conference to face the likes of Debora Patta at a low point in his life — after his remark in court that he took a shower after sleeping with an HIV-positive woman — I honestly cannot see how his office can invoke his name in failing to answer questions about his house without trying to tar and feather journalists.
Maseko should reward the likes of justice spokesperson Tlali Tlali, who in a stormy year for judicial transformation and controversial National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) decisions, such as withdrawing the charges against Zuma, showed sobriety and a cool head. Tlali absorbed a lot of heat for Jeff Radebe and the NPA, yet always responded timeously and professionally to queries without throwing his political weight around.
I still admire the old hands, such as Thabo Masebe, a patient and honest communicator who will spend two hours with you on the phone trying to convince you why the government was correct to bar the Dalai Lama from visiting the country, a decision that is simply indefensible.
And I do give a sympathetic nod to newcomer Vuyelwa Vika, who speaks on behalf of the overconfident Cooperative Governance and Traditional Affairs Minister Sicelo Shiceka, and the ubiquitous Panyaza Lesufi, who looks ready to lay down his life to defend Basic Education Minister Angie Motshekga.