EPILOGUE
After the tensions and battles between the ANC and media since democracy which have been captured in this book’s chapters, the year 2012 did not follow the same pattern. It was unpredictable, so typical of the postmodern condition. First, the much anticipated Press Freedom Commission report was released in April and this was welcomed very quickly by some of the most serious critics of the media – namely Gwede Mantashe and Jackson Mthembu, who attended the launch of the report on 25 April. They were once, and not so long ago, big proponents of the media appeals tribunal, which then seemed as if it would be put to bed – either for good or for now (there is no way of telling) but the matter would be sure to arise at the ANC elective conference at the end of 2012.
Second, the National Council of Provinces, in a surprise move, announced fairly substantial concessions, which in effect granted a public interest defence amendment to the Protection of State Information Bill. But just as quickly these were rejected by the State Security Agency.
There are a few ways to view the progressive developments. One is that the ANC had seen that it had enough bad publicity, locally and internationally, over these twin issues – the Secrecy Bill and the media appeals tribunal – which cut straight through the freedoms of journalism in a democracy. The ANC decided it needed to make amends, as this was seriously embarrassing. Then, civil society actions, as in the protests by the Right2Know campaign,1 had an impact. At every turn in parliament the R2K engaged in protest action and made constructive legal feedback. And, further, the ANC was afraid it could be losing support, not only among the intelligentsia and middle classes, but also on the ground. It had witnessed, during the NCOP public hearings in the townships, how dissatisfied people were with service delivery and how they felt that secrecy would just make things worse. The recent developments are probably a combination of all these reasons. However, the gains made lasted a short while before the State Security Agency rejected the amendments to the Secrecy Bill and it was back to square one.
In keeping with the optimistic and pessimistic moments for democracy lying side by side, and the unpredictability in South African politics, another blast waltzed in, at the end of May 2012, to unsettle the most recent picture I have painted (that things might be settling down and the ANC might be backtracking on curtailing freedoms). A painting called The Spear, by the artist Brett Murray, a former anti-apartheid activist, caused a huge storm because it depicted Zuma as a Leninist figure – that was no big deal – but with his penis exposed. The ANC went to court to order the art gallery in which it was displayed to remove the painting, declare it illegal, and ban it from the public eye – but not before two members of the public had defaced it. The unpredictability of South Africa reared its head in this scene too. A middle aged white man entered the art gallery and painted crosses over the painting and then declared in court that he did it to defuse the tension and prevent a race war. That’s possibly rather presumptuous, but definitely unpredictable. The young black taxi driver who went in seconds later and smeared black paint all over The Spear was then captured on television being head butted and thrown on the floor in a violent manner by a security guard. This raised eyebrows too. Was there so much self-hatred in that black security guard that he had violently to arrest the young black man yet allow a polite arrest of the elderly white man? But back to the main contention. The matter of the dignity and privacy provided by the Constitution versus freedom of expression had reared its head again.
This clash is not going to go away soon. All sorts of matters were invoked in the privacy and dignity argument in defence of Zuma and outrage at his exposed penis: culture, tradition, humiliation, apartheid, and racism. And this was how race, again, appeared as a Master-Signifier. Was it yet another case of being passionately attached to the past, to victimhood? The ANC asked the public to boycott the City Press newspaper, which had placed the painting on its website and refused to remove it. The point is that Zuma is a public figure, open to scrutiny but also to ridicule, and his right to privacy is curtailed by the fact that he is more than an ordinary private individual.
But let’s pause for a moment with the artist, and get this out of the way quickly. As an artist his right to freedom of expression is undeniable. But could there be some jouissance in that particular work of art, as in something more than enjoyment, a surplus, and excess, some orgasmic delight, coupled with suffering and persecution? It is worth a questioning note and, after all, this book has used psychoanalytical concepts to understand tensions.
City Press sold out on Sunday 27 May 2012, despite the ANC’s calling for a boycott of the newspaper a few days before (Ferial Haffajee apologised to members of the Zuma family for hurting them, but refused to remove the painting from the City Press website). On the same Sunday, the newspaper received support from an unlikely ally – one whose dirty linen and shenanigans for tenderpreneurship, tax dodging and other allegedly corrupt dealings had been hung up for all to read in the City Press: the former Youth League leader Julius Malema, who said that in support of freedom of expression he would buy two newspapers instead of one. In a public letter published in City Press, he wrote: ‘Of all the freedoms in the Bill of Rights, the right we should defend with our lives is the right to hold different opinions on how we view society and how we think certain matters should be handled. Banning newspapers simply because we disagree with them, and boycotting them on the basis that our conception of truth is absolute, poses a real threat to our democracy’ (City Press: 27 May 2012). I did not predict when I started my research that I would end on a glowing note in praise of Malema, notwithstanding my awareness that if Malema had still been within the powerful fold of the ANC he would most probably not have said what he did. He might well have been as outraged in a typical populist sort of way as the rest of the ruling elite were about a mere painting that should have been laughed at. After all, doesn’t democracy have a sense of humour? And, shouldn’t public figures be robust enough to handle criticism?
Further demonstrating how quickly things change and how unpredictable politics are in South Africa, there was a further unexpected twist, arguably a turn towards the voice of power, when on Monday morning Haffajee announced on Twitter that she would remove the image of Zuma from her website. Her reasons? ‘Out of care and fear.’ She explained: ‘Anger and rage is never the role of the media in society. We are robust and independent, yes, but divisive and deaf, no.’
Well and good, but what worries and disturbs me is the ‘fear’. Haffajee reportedly received death threats. What does it all mean? Will this set a precedent for the future, when the ANC gets upset about some work of art, or some critique of power, or criticism of patriarchy, or corruption? When it clamps down on freedom of expression in a book, a website or an art gallery, in an article, or in a speech, will we then succumb to the ideologically interpellating voice (or bullying voice)?
Meanwhile, Zuma received generous lashings of sympathy and this would probably hold him in good stead for the ANC’s elective conference to be held in Mangaung in December. Supporters of the Bill of Rights clause on freedom of expression were left confused and worried about the future. The important point is that politics in South Africa is unpredictable: as quickly as you had to get used to the idea that press freedom was under serious threat, you had as quickly to get used to the idea that it may not be under threat after all and that concessions and compromises were being reached. Then, just as quickly, a furor such as was brought on by The Spear arises, and we are left gasping. It is difficult to know what will happen next. The Secrecy Bill still had no public interest defence at the time of publication but the dreaded media appeals tribunal seems to be in abeyance, but who knows whether this Polokwane resolution will be resurrected at Mangaung in December, citing newspapers who stick to their right to publish in the public interest?
The black and white issue that the Spear story became in May 2012 was not literally a black and white issue. People seem to be called racists if they are not following the master narrative of the ANC. And, in this book we have seen how black journalists were also labelled racists, or coconuts, and one was even called a colonial creature.
The twist and turns with the Secrecy Bill signified the postmodern condition of South African politics sprinkled with healthy doses of uncertainty and chaos. On 6 June 2012, the State Security Agency rejected the ANC’s recommendations to limit the powers of the ministry to delegate classification powers, to reduce penalties and to remove the burden of proof. In essence, journalists and whistleblowers still faced criminalisation if the amendments were not finally to be accepted. It was essential to keep up the pressure for reform. Murray Hunter, the Right2Know coordinator, said in a press release on 7 June, 2012: ‘The Secrecy Bill has united people across the boundaries of space, race, class and ideology – from leafy suburbs to townships and informal settlements, shop floors and office blocks, university campuses and old-age homes. We can’t stop pushing now; in fact, now’s the time to start.’
And so the one step forwards, two steps backwards dance continued. Puzzling paradoxes? Twists and turns? Anxiety, ambivalence, or simply unpredictability and uncertainty? What best describes the future path in the fight for democracy between the ANC and the media in South Africa?
NOTES
1I served as a member of R2K’s national working group, Gauteng Working Group and Media Freedom and Diversity committee from February 2011 to February 2012. My views here, however, are not representative of R2K.