Jane Duncan |
The televised
images of armed miners rushing towards the police in Marikana on the
16th August, and the police opening fire on the miners, will haunt
South Africans for many years to come.
Reporting from behind the police line in relative safety, journalists presented to the world images that on the surface of things vindicated the police’s view of events, namely that they shot in self-defence.But subsequent academic, journalistic and eyewitness accounts have called this narrative into question, with evidence having emerged of a second ‘kill site’ where miners were allegedly killed in a far more premeditated fashion by the police.
Journalists
were not present at this site. This alternative narrative emerged
after miners were interviewed by the University of Johannesburg and
subsequently by the Daily Maverick. Up to that point,
journalists had completely missed this alternative account.
Hopefully,
the truth will emerge from the Farlam Commission of Enquiry. But how
did the media fare in reporting on the massacre, and how has it
assisted the public to build their own understanding of what happened
and its significance?. Why did journalists miss such a crucial
dimension of the Marikana story, which called into question very
fundamentally the official version of events?
In an initial
attempt to answer this question, a representative sample of printed
newspaper articles provided by News Monitor via Media Tenor, for the
dates 13 - 22 August were analysed for their sources of information:
153 articles in total.
Most miners were interviewed in relation to the stories alleging that the miners had used muti to defend themselves against the police’s bullets, as well as the miners’ working and living conditions.
The source
analysis included people and organisations who were quoted directly,
or who clearly provided information that formed part of the basis of
the article (such as Lonmin annual reports or a report released
shortly before the massacre by the Benchmarks Foundation). Many
articles had several sources.
The upshot of
this analysis, in pie chart form, is as follows:
Newspapers
sampled: Business Day, The Star (including Business Report), The New
Age, Citizen, Mail and Guardian, City Press, The Sunday Times and
Times, Sowetan, Beeld, Die Burger, Sunday Independent, Financial
Mail.
Of
the 3 percent of miners who were interviewed independently of the
National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) and the Association of
Mineworkers and Construction Union (AMCU), only one worker was quoted
speaking about what actually happened during the massacre, and he
said the police shot first. Most miners were interviewed in relation
to the stories alleging that the miners had used muti to defend
themselves against the police’s bullets, as well as the miners’
working and living conditions.
So in other
words, of all 153 articles, only one showed any attempt by a
journalist to obtain an account from a worker about their version of
events. There is scant evidence of journalists having asked the
miners the simplest and most basic of questions, namely ‘what
happened’?
A more
comprehensive analysis of the media coverage over this period is
being planned, but so far, it appears that it was only after the
Maverick coverage that many journalists realised that the miners
actually had a story to tell, independently of the unions or any
other organised formation. Journalists seemed to assume that by
having interviewed the unions, they had somehow ‘covered’ the
miners’ story; an incorrect assumption, as many miners who
initiated and sustained the strike action did not feel represented by
either union.
This initial
sample of the press coverage during the week of the massacre raises
some serious, unavoidable questions, about the state of South Africa
journalism, which likes to portray itself as the watchdog of the
powerful, and on behalf of the powerless.
However, the
bureaucratic and social organisation of news in contemporary media
organisations often leads to journalists prioritising the dominant
groups in society. It is not coincidental that, apart from being a
representation of journalistic sources, the pie chart also mirrors
quite accurately where the power lies in society. Those with the most
power and money have the biggest voice.
In fast-paced newsrooms, where journalists are required to meet more and more deadlines, it is tempting to rely on sources of information that are more readily obtainable and have been validated by other media, while avoiding sources that are less ‘trusted’ and require more validation. Known as ‘pack journalism’, these tendencies can give journalism a sameness that reduces diversity of voices.
The most
easily validated sources are likely to be organisations with the
resources to maintain a constant flow of information to the media,
such as government agencies, big business and ‘think tanks’.
Organisations or individuals representing working class or unemployed
interests are likely to be less well resourced and lack the capacity
to communicate proactively, which can lead to them dropping under the
journalist’s radar.
Many media
organisations have dedicated business reporters or even publications.
Yet there are hardly any labour reporters anymore; this beat has
practically disappeared from newsrooms, which makes it even more
likely that workers’ perspectives will be sidelined.
Journalists
pride themselves on their independence. Yet if the first week of
reporting on the Marikana conflict is anything to go by, many
journalists allowed themselves to become mouthpieces of the rich and
powerful, reproducing the official versions of events, and silencing
the voices of the workers as rational, thinking beings with their own
stories to tell.
Such
reporting is an indictment on journalism and all that it stands for.
It does not help society understand the scale of the social unrest
gripping the country, the levels of police violence in response, and
overall, the extent of the drift towards outright state repression. A
society can ill-afford to sleepwalk through a period in history when
it risks collapsing under the weight of its own internal
contradictions.
When the
Daily Maverick’s Greg Marinovich was interviewed about his
stories on the massacre, he was asked what advice he would give to
journalists to improve their reporting, and his response was simply
to ‘…go take peoples’ stories’. If journalists are to rise to
the task of reflecting accurately the most troubled period in South
Africa’s post-apartheid history, then journalists should take this
advice seriously. If they do not, then they will continue to fail
South Africa.