can be witnessed from the discourse of the president of the ANC, Jacob Zuma, when he said on the ANC website:
We are faced with the virtually unique situation that, among the democracies, the overwhelmingly dominant tendency in South African politics, represented by the ANC, has no representation whatsoever in the mass media. We therefore have to contend with the situation that what masquerades, as ‘public opinion’, as reflected in the bulk of our media, is in fact minority opinion informed by the historic social and political position occupied by this minority. There are many examples we can cite to illustrate this point. Every day brings fresh instances of a media that, in general terms, is politically and ideologically out of sync with the society in which it exists (ANC Today: 18-24 January 2008).
In Zuma’s gaze the media should be ‘ideologically in sync’ with society. How does he know this? How does he know what the whole of society thinks? It seems to be a conflation: society equals ANC. It is within this discourse that we can see what Torfing meant, in New Theories of Discourse: Laclau, Mouffe and Žižek, when he described the difference between discourse and the discursive (1999: 92). There is always something that escapes processes of signification within discourse, and the partial fixing of meaning produces a surplus. In other words, a surplus of meaning (what is not said, but is implied or read into meaning) is illogical and leads to an indefinable surplus, a meandering discussion which is off the point. There is surplus attached to the media in all three discursive interventions by Mandela, Mbeki and Zuma. Their expectations are in excess of the role of the media. Both the former presidents of the ANC and the current president appear to be obsessed by the media.
Their words show an attempt to create a hegemonic unity out of irreducible heterogeneity. But a radical democracy is exemplified by the acceptance of the multiplicity of spaces (and the media would be one such space): all open and not hermetically sealed, with fierce contestations and engagements all in flux. The call for too much unity, and consensus about everything, limits the free speech and criticism that are good for democracy. From the ANC presidents’ words and their interpellations on the media, it can be seen that they would prefer a media that is at unity with the ANC, but this is not the role of the media in a democracy. This brings us back to the topic at hand: what is the role of the media in a democracy? It is not to be in sync ideologically, or to curry favour with politicians, and it is not – contrary to what the ANC desires – a media which should be involved in ‘nation-building’.
On the one hand, there is support in the ANC for an independent media (in theory) while on the other it appears as though the ANC find the media goes too far in its criticisms. Take, for instance, Zuma’s lawsuits against Zapiro, totalling R7 million for defamation (this amount was reduced to R5 million in 2011). Zuma says that he supports the free press, and yet he persists with the lawsuits, saying this is his right as a citizen (The Weekender: 15-16 August 2009).
The media’s responsibility is to report news truthfully, accurately and fairly, according to the South African Press Code (see Appendix 1), and to keep public spaces open for debate and dissension, according to the democratic theory visited in this chapter. ‘Truth’ here, is to be understood in journalistic terms rather than in any transcendental philosophical way: that is, reporting the facts, and giving the citizenry as many different voices as possible. By playing the role of watchdog and holding power to account and by exposing corruption, the media plays a critical role in civil society. But is it that easy and is it that simple? It is worth pausing here to turn to three journal articles in Social Dynamics on public spheres, by Cowling and Hamilton (2010), Cowling (2010) and Serino (2010). The article by Serino discusses how topics for debate enter the South African public sphere, using the Sunday Times as an example. This takes place, research showed, through professional journalistic norms (for example what is newsworthy) but also through the Sunday Times’ notion of what is in the public interest, in the context of its role in transformation and democracy. Through the selection or non-selection of stories and use of expert opinion, the Sunday Times sees itself as an agenda-setter; and therefore there is some orchestration of debate (Serino 2010). Serino also noted that there was a level of ‘self importance’ attached to the way in which this was done and conveyed. Cowling and Hamilton (2010) agreed with Serino on the ‘orchestration’ question, arguing that while it is an accepted practice in journalism there is not enough responsibility attached to it. ‘The idea of public interest is thus a fuzzy but critical concept at the heart of journalistic practice’ vis-à-vis choices of topics for debate governed by public interest, but it is undefined and learnt by journalists from their engagement with the news production process, and through negotiation and discussion. However, it could also be argued that perhaps even more should be left undefined and fuzzy in order to make the process of news selection more authentic. Cowling and Hamilton’s research showed that on AM Live presenters played a key role in constituting the show’s form; the mode was carefully orchestrated; and finding the ‘right’ guest was important. Therefore, their argument goes, why was there such a fuss about the SABC banning certain commentators? A point that Cowling and Hamilton raised was that, given that the paymasters were the SABC, who shared the ideas of the ANC on the developmental state and nation-building or, as the two authors put it, ‘the national project of development’, journalists nonetheless acted according to their own professional standards. A further point that they raised was that in the selection and production process there is a lot taken for granted and journalists are often not critically engaged. Then there is the question of ‘orchestration’, which implies deliberate, almost cynical and sinister, undertakings whereas in my experience of newsrooms in the last two decades, as an employee and freelancer, I found selection to be much more random than this, having much more to do with the public interest, production process, deadlines and what ‘fits a page’, rather than any coherent and conscious ideological positioning.
There is also the question of ‘self-importance’ that Serino (2010: 110) raised, quoting Mondli Makhanya starting off a 2007 news conferences by asking (referring to his paper): ‘What will the highest court in the land say this week?’, and ‘the Sunday Times will select topics that it believes can advance the discussion of issues of relevance to South Africa’. This is interesting and thought provoking. Let’s now turn to a piece by Peter Bruce, editor of Business Day, which might show this ‘self-importance’ (but I think he was merely observing certain facts). This is an extract from Bruce’s column, Thick End of the Wedge:
I think there’s a case to be made for newspapers not being owned by public companies at all. When you consider the contribution they make to democracy it may be worth ruling that only newspapers owned by trusts or something similar can register as newspapers with the Post Office. Having said that, it was a newspaper (City Press) owned by the mother of all local listed media companies (Naspers) which for the second or third week in a row yesterday gave us some insight into how Julius Malema has made his millions, and, in turn, added to the insight into why he feels he can’t be contained. Why? Because with R54m in your bank account no one can tell you what to do. Only, thanks to City Press, we know now that Malema hasn’t paid any tax on his ill-gotten millions and that could mean he goes to jail. Fantastic! But will it happen? […] By cheating the government, by ‘winning’ tenders to be paid for with public money even though you have no chance of meeting the conditions of the tender, you are robbing the public purse and, therefore, you are robbing the poor. Looked at that way, Malema is a thief, but he is treated like a hero by the poor (Business Day: 8 March 2010).
Bruce was celebrating the uncovering by the media in February 2010 of the ANC Youth League leader Julius Malema having been caught with several companies registered in his name through alleged fraudulent tenders and having R54 million in his bank account while his salary was R20 000 a month. The stories showed details of fraudulent tenders, and the media called him a ‘tenderpreneur’ and remorselessly subjected him to scrutiny. This exposure is the role of the media in a democracy. The public was given the chance to question where taxpayers’ money was going – into the pockets of corrupt leaders or towards solving the country’s crime, unemployment and flailing infrastructural problems. If South Africa had a media that was ideologically in sync with the ANC, there would be no exposure of fraud and corruption. As Bruce said in the above column, it’s the exposure of cheating the government by winning tenders, and the ‘thieving’