On December 20, I sent the final page of my 200th edition of Grocott’s Mail to press in the basement of the building. The press began clunking. It was with a heavy heart that I shut down my computer for the last time and became the former youngest editor of the country’s oldest newspaper.
Some readers thought I had become a casualty of the ongoing quarrel between the newspaper and the Makana municipality. Not so. In fact, I regret leaving without seeing the tussle to its bitter end because this is a fight worth fighting; at stake is press freedom.
The confrontation is now headed for court — something that the newspaper tried to avoid. If I had to pinpoint the beginning of the souring of relations, I would say it was after we published details of a scathing Auditor General’s report claiming that R13,7-million could not be accounted for. Our report angered municipal manager Pravine Naidoo. And not long after it appeared, the municipality decided that it would no longer do business with Grocott’s Mail. (This was before Minister Pahad threatened to withdraw government advertising from the Sunday Times.)
Politics, of course, is an intriguing world of back-crossing and double-stabbing. A few months after the advertising boycott, Naidoo received his comeuppance. One morning he was ordered to hand in his municipal cellphone and remove his car from the bay reserved for the MM. After six years as the municipal manager, Naidoo was between jobs. He lodged an urgent high court application to be reinstated in his R850 000-a-year-job.
Naidoo’s court application was rejected. But I read in a recent edition of the newspaper, of which I’m now just an ordinary subscriber, that he has appealed against the decision. He wants his job back because, as he told the court, although he had suffered personally, his own woes were nothing compared with how Makana would suffer without his bottom in the hot seat. Good ol’ Pravine — always putting his city first.
My story about whether Naidoo really has the interests of Grahamstown at heart starts with a ringing phone. It was October 18, a Thursday morning, when the phone rang. I stared at it with loathing. Deep into the Grocott’s production day a ringing phone is bad news. It means a late advert has just been booked, which means shuffling stories, juggling photos and redoing a page’s layout.
The cut-off for booking adverts is Wednesdays at 1pm but, like most community newspapers, Grocott’s can’t afford to turn away ads. I always tried to be accommodating, but this Thursday was different. We were one designer down and we needed to squeeze a lot of news into a tight newspaper. More adverts mean less space for news. I was about to tell our advertising manager, Ronel Bowles, “Sorry, no can do,” but I didn’t have the chance.
Ronel was bursting with excitement. Her tone was a punch in the air, cartwheels down High Street and a whelp of you’ve-just-won-the-lotto delight. “The municipality,” she breathed — fireworks going off between pauses — “has booked an ad.”
In any other world, those would be six drab, dull, dry words. I leapt off my chair and did a jig on my desk (OK, I just yelled, “Whoo-hoo!” loudly). The municipality’s adverts were back. The ad pull-out had hit us hard financially. We had to freeze a reporter’s post, which meant one less job in Grahamstown.
At first, the municipality wouldn’t give us reasons for its boycott. Then, after a bit of badgering, officials agreed to meet us. That’s when Patrick Ntshiba, the councillor who chaired the session, confirmed my suspicion about the reasons for the ad pull-out — and almost borrowed a line from Seinfeld‘s famous Soup Nazi in the process. “Grocott’s is a launching pad to throw missiles against the leadership of the municipality and the ANC. We have evidence. We have taken a very political stance with regards to Grocott’s — no business for you.”
Naidoo droned on about how much he respected freedom of the press. But, no matter how you try to spin it, withdrawing advertising because you don’t like what’s being written is not showing a commitment to press freedom. It had been a short leap from disapproval to clampdown.
Naidoo said our concerns would be discussed at a mayoral meeting. I didn’t feel very hopeful. Which brings us back to the ringing phone, Ronel’s news about the municipality wanting to place a late ad and my jig (OK, “Whoo-hoo!”).
The notice the municipality wanted to place would cost just R420 — not worth the schlep — but as a gesture of good faith I agreed to accommodate it. We rearranged articles, juggled layouts and found a space for it in the newspaper. Films were made and the page was ready to be printed.
Then, about two hours later, the phone rang again. It was technical and infrastructural services director Dabula Njilo, saying the municipality wanted to pull the ad. Not because the information on the notice was incorrect; they were pulling the ad because the official who had placed it had forgotten that Grocott’s was on an advertising blacklist.
It’s too late, I explained. The page had been done. The electricity went off. If I were a conspiracy theorist, I might have thought that the municipality had cut the town’s power to prevent us from producing a newspaper that carried their ad.
The power returned and so did director Njilo. “Listen,” he pleaded, “it was a terrible mistake. The MM is very angry. He is furious. We don’t do business with you. He insists that we stop it.”
I agreed to pull the advert on condition that the municipality paid a cancellation fee, the costs of our designer’s time, and the costs of the film and plates. Naidoo agreed to pay the bill, which came to about three times the amount that the advert would have cost. Of course, it wasn’t his money, it was residents’ money.
The notice, by the way, was about a nine-hour water interruption — information that residents would have found useful.
We published the news of the water interruption anyway, but it struck me that Naidoo would rather spite residents and not inform them that their taps would be dry than do business with Grocott’s. Now, does that sound like someone who has the city’s interests at heart?
Ah, Prav Naidoo – there’s a familiar name from my own days as a GTown journ student/wannabe hack! Doesn’t surprise me even slightly that the Makana Muni would cut off its advertising to spite its residents’ water supplies – and it’s a sad, shocking indictment on how much time some politicians spend butting heads with the press when they could actually, I don’t know, be doing their jobs.
Hope early retirement is treating you well.
As a journalism graduate from Rhodes I have nothing but respect for Grocott’s. The paper didn’t take nonsense from the previous regime so why should it do so now? Well done for telling this to the world!
This is a brilliant piece. Thank you. What a pity that the ANC has turned into just another rotten political party. As the cliché goes…is this what Nelson Mandela (et al) sat in jail for? Yep, seems so.
But Jonathan, if you were not “a casualty of the ongoing quarrel” then why did you leave? And what are you doing now? Will we be bumping into you at Balfour Park again?
I left for a few reasons. The main one was because of a fight with Rhodes University over my accommodation. When they sent me a lawyer’s letter I had enough. Johnny Anger? Johnny Furious. I will blog about that as soon as my blood pressure has returned to normal – it might take a few more months. Domza, you probably won’t bump into me at Balfour Park for a while (who are you again?) as I’m seeking my fortune in the Mother City.
I’m not anybody again. I’m just a well-wisher. I only met you once – in Balfour Park – and then I heard that you were the youngest editor and all that. Good luck down south. No time now to tell the whole tale but there was a time in the mid-1980s when the Haringey Anti-Apartheid Group helped break the boycott that the local Labour Party-controlled council was running against the Hornsey Journal. Some boycotts are good and some are not. Some people don’t engage brain and can’t tell the difference. It’s no good boycotting the press. That’s half-way to book-burning.
Naidoo deserves a good solid beating. I hope he gets it.
I’ve visited Grahamstown a few times. My ex-wife is from there. Must be wonderful to work there.
What a loss to Gtown and Grocott’s. You took the paper to new heights Ancer and you’ll probably go down in local history for your strong stand against Makana Municipality political fat cats.
Dearest Johnny,
from where I stand, it is widespread practice in a dog-eat-dog society for power players, including private corporations, to use the power of money to influence newspaper decision making process, especially content.
now, you should be aware that any business will not put money into a newspaper that (i) does not advance its interests (ii) promote its positive profile and (iii) is seen, rightly or wrongly, to be denigrating its leadership and insulting its integrity. it is practical wisdom in the nature of our society, especially with our economy.
so, there seems to be a tussle between you and makana muni leadership on this. fine, naaidoo is gone but the problem remains.
i am interested to know, as an outside observer: if it is okay for so-called private corporations to use money to influence editorial decision making, why is it NOT okay for public corporations, including the muni government? it does not wash for me to say, politicians are government and must be accountable. yes, one would agree about with that.
but, of course, there should be ONE POLITICAL MORAL STANDARD for ALL south africans. there is a lot of corruption in the private world. in fact, the whole economy of this land is based on theft of land and monopolisation of wealth by few families. i dont know how much YOU have done to reveal or expose this TRUTH. if anything, what has been the reaction of private corporations and the public to your gallant work?
i am curious and fascinated by this moral dilemma. the issue of double standards riles me.
with deep respect
PS let us get together for a drink in the murder city. i sure would love to think aloud with you.
Richard, Grahamstown is a great place to work and a lousy place to work for precisely the same reasons. If you have the stomach for all the bad things that come from small-town living (oh, say, bigotry, isolation, more bigotry, more isolation, and the frustration of dealing with things happening at a…very…slow…pace) you’ll like it.
Mr Anger: a lawyer’s letter? Oy gevalt, as they say in the classics. I can’t wait to hear this one…
These days Makana Muni has this spin doctor called Thandy Matebese. He doesn’t respond to the papers’ questions (saying “we don’t talk to Grocotts reporters), but is always attacking Grocott’s reporter, Kwanele Butana. I’m starting to suspect that maybe there is something more than just attacking him for inaccurate reporting (as he says). Who knows, Maybe Kwanele stole his girlfriend at high school.
In my experience as a student reporter I found that those people at the city hall tried to blame the paper for “serving the white side of the town” but the problem is that reporters (students included) are from both the “the white side” and ikasi. So, those who stay in the township are not reporting from an “outsider’s perspective”—they are affected by the municipality’s incompetency.
These comments are making me miss Grahamstown and its often slimy politicians. Bless the spin doctors and their selective commentary!
*sniffle*
Hello Sandile
Thanks for your kind offer to have a drink with me. I accept.
Newspapers provide a platform for advertisers to reach a market: readers. Newspapers and advertisers need each other. A private company wants to advertise in a publication so that it can have a platform to persuade readers to buy its product. I’m sure you’ll agree that a private company would be shortsighted if it decided not to advertise in a publication because it has a problem with the editorial content.
Similarly, a newspaper would also be shortsighted if it decided not to publish a story because it was afraid of losing advertising. Readers want credible newspapers – if a newspaper’s credibility goes, readers go to.
I believe there is a difference between a company deciding not to advertise in a particular publication and a public institution embarking on an advertising boycott because it doesn’t like a newspaper’s coverage. The difference is accountability. No one will disagree that Makana Municipality must be accountable to the residents of Makana. And that means informing them of important developments. For example, when there is going to be a water shortage, Makana’s duty is to inform as many residents as possible as effectively as possible. It is, as the Americans say, a no-brainer. Instead, when there was a water shortage, Makana chose to pay a lot of money NOT to advertise. It punished residents because it didn’t like our newspaper’s content. That is hardly being accountable or using public money carefully.
I believe that Makana’s advertising boycott is a bid to muzzle the press, which is dangerous. If Makana Municipality believes that Grocott’s did not behave properly, it has recourse: it can write a letter to the editor (at the very least), it can demand a right of reply, it can report the matter to the Press Ombudsman and it can go to court.
I hope that made sense – I’ve been up since 4am.
Today a blogger who clearly has some personal axe to grind with me, discovered one of my banner ads on a blog he visited. He then proceeded to approach my advertiser and bad-mouth me to them.
One of the bloggers in my publisher’s network is a friend of the complainant. In his efforts to hurt me, he is also going to hurt his friend and others in my network.
There are, I have discovered, a lot of vindictive people who will try to financially ruin others if their nose is put out of joint on a political issue.