How independent is the HRC?
A CRITICAL TEST of the Human Rights
Commission's findings and recommendations on racism in the media that
are due next month will be its handling of the ANC's submission to the
hearings on the subject. In the course of that submission the party
specifically accuses Mail & Guardian editor Phillip van Niekerk of
writing an article criticising Thabo Mbeki but running it under the
by-line of Lizeka Mda, now a senior editor on The Star. Both
journalists have emphatically rejected the charge and van Niekerk has
lodged an application with the HRC to investigate criminal charges
against public enterprise minister Jeff Radebe, who delivered the
statement on behalf of the ANC. It is an offence to present false
evidence to the HRC and observers will be watching closely to see what
action, if any, the Commission takes on this matter.
During its short existence the HRC has shown that it is not afraid to
criticise the ANC or tackle issues that could embarrass the ruling
party, and van Niekerk's application may prove no exception. The 1998
poverty hearings that were conducted jointly with the NGO Coalition and
Gender Commission allowed the rural poor at centres all over the
country to bear witness to their plight and how little had changed for
them. The HRC's latest annual report touches this raw nerve again,
implicitly accusing the ANC government of failing adequately to address
the challenges of continuing poverty and growing disparity between rich
and poor. "Five years into the democratic dispensation, the social
inequality gap continues to increase," it says. "It appears that the
poor are getting poorer and the rich richer. The gap in pay levels
between the highly paid and the lower levels remains high. Unemployment
is not decreasing appreciably. The result is that many people continue
to live on too little". Those are not the sentiments of an institution
whose devotion to the government - which funds its activities to the
tune of R17.3 million a year - exceeds its broader obligations to human
rights and, by implication, justice and equity.
The HRC has also taken up the complaint of Dr Costa Gazi, the Pan
Africanist Congress health spokesman, that government is denying
reproductive rights to pregnant women who are HIV-positive because it
refuses to provide them with the anti-retroviral drugs that prevent
transmission of the disease to their children. It has been persistent
in requesting the embattled health minister to respond to its questions
on that matter.
The fighting temperament of the HRC chairman Barney Pityana is crucial
to the Commission's record and the issues that it chooses to campaign
on. A founder member of the black consciousness movement who became an
active supporter of the ANC - though he never joined the party formally
- he is also a lawyer and Anglican priest. Pityana's combative
disposition is not immediately evident. His ample girth suggests a
Friar Tuck-like geniality, but beneath that exterior image is a
passionate commitment to liberate blacks from the psychological and
political burdens of the apartheid past. His ire and agile mind are not
reserved for attacks on sanctimonious white liberals or white
conservatives mouthing liberal platitudes. He gained notoriety during a
television debate in February 1996 when he called the respected human
rights lawyer Dennis Davis "a racist" because he had questioned the
exclusion of white human rights lawyers from the original 11 people
chosen to serve as HRC commissioners. In retrospect, Davis - a man who
shuns the designation "white liberal" - sees this as a seminal point in
post-apartheid South Africa, because it marked the first attempt to
force closure on a debate by using the race card against criticism
emanating from the left rather than the right.
Pityana can be critical of his former ANC comrades, particularly those
whose heads have been turned by the power and privilege that come with
occupancy of high office. He has dared to complain publicly about the
"deterioration in the human rights environment" since Thabo Mbeki took
over as president last year. "It appears that government strategy is,
at best, to play down the human rights base of our constitutional
system," he says. "Several high profile actions suggest that human
rights have become more of a burden to the drive for tangible outcomes
in the struggle against crime." In February, Pityana and HRC
Commissioner Jody Kollapen made a well-publicised visit to the Lindela
Repatriation Centre after the arrest of hundreds of suspected illegal
foreigners during a police raid in Hillbrow, Johannesburg.
Pityana reserves his sharpest criticism for two cabinet ministers:
safety and security minister Steve Tshwete, for his "expressed
reluctance" to implement an amendment to the Criminal Procedure Act
restricting the use of firearms by police, and justice minister Penuell
Maduna for his "conspicuous silence" on the need to protect human
rights. These criticisms have clearly stung Tshwete and national police
commissioner, Jackie Selebi, who refer scathingly to the meddling "high
priests of human rights". The HRC annual report stresses the importance
of fighting crime without negating the nascent culture of human rights.
"We fear that a populism that dwells only on the fears of the people
may lead to autocratic behaviour and in the long run undermine the very
rights South Africans have struggled for," the report states.
But the HRC, too, has the powers to behave autocratically. Defined in
Chapter 9 of the Constitution and the preamble to the Human Rights Acts
of 1994, the aims of the Commisssion are anodyne enough - to monitor,
promote and protect human rights. But the law also provides it with
wide-ranging powers of search and seizure on mere suspicion of a
violation of human rights, as well as the power to issue subpoenas.
Pityana himself has described these powers, which include the power to
search premises without a warrant and to order the disclosure of
information that may be self-incriminating, as "frightening and
overwhelming".
Last year the HRC issued subpoenas to more than 30 provincial and
government departments which had failed to supply information on
measures taken to realise economic and social rights. Its powers can
and are being used to shield individuals against the state, but they
can as easily be directed against civil society too. The Commission
served subpoenas on dozens of editors and journalists, including the
editor of the London-based Financial Times, to give evidence at its
public inquiry into racism in the media, with the threat of
imprisonment if they refused. Even though the subpoenas were later
withdrawn when editors agreed to attend voluntarily, great damage has
been done, both at home and abroad, to the image of press freedom in
the new South Africa.
Many thousands of words have been written about the hearings, which
may turn out to be the HRC's defining moment. President Thabo Mbeki
himself has unequivocally defended the investigation. In a reply to a
protesting letter from the presidents of the World Association of
Newspapers and the World Editors Forum, he describes the HRC as an
independent institution and defends its decision to probe racism in the
media after receiving complaints about it from "members of the public".
The original "members of the public" were the Black Lawyers'
Association and the Association of Black Accountants of South Africa.
Their complaints against just two newspapers, the Mail & Guardian
and the Sunday Times, were so insubstantial that they had to resort to
the notion of "subliminal racism". This means that the newspapers have
been charged with propagating racism without their readers being aware
of it: hardly the evidence on which a prosecutor could build a case in
a court of law and certainly not a justification for launching an
investigation against the media as a whole.
There are two further reasons why Pityana should have been cautious
about launching a general inquiry into the media. The first is that the
complainants did not raise their concerns with the two publications
before seeking the intervention of the HRC. The second is that Pityana
had already made up his mind on the issue before him. As far back as
August 1997 he co-authored an article in the Sowetan, in which he
asserted that the media continued to propagate "subliminal racism by
creating a negative image of Africans". As Howard Barrell of the Mail
& Guardian observed, Pityana's pronouncement constituted a powerful
case for recusal, while the former HRC commissioner Rhoda Kadalie
commented that the Commission should investigate its own racial bias
before presuming to interrogate journalists about racism in the
media.
During the parliamentary debate on the HRC on March 1, a number of
Opposition speakers raised the subject of the Commission's own racial
bias. Marthinus Van Schalkwyk, leader of the New National Party,
referred to the recurring resignation of HRC commissioners who are not
black Africans. "There is clearly something wrong at the HRC," he said,
noting the resignations of Helen Suzman, Max Coleman, Rhoda Kadalie,
Anne Routier, Chris de Jager and Sheena Duncan (the latter resigned
from the HRC Trust, not the HRC per se). "Instead of the HRC becoming a
unifying force, commanding respect in the fight against racism, it
risks becoming a polarising force through its own actions," he
warned.
Pityana responded vigorously in a letter, insisting that only one of
the commissioners (Coleman) had left after a disagreement; the others
had left variously because of age (Suzman), health (Routier) and career
advancement (De Jager). However, he admitted that Kadalie, now one of
the HRC's most trenchant critics, "left in a blaze of publicity".
Kadalie explicitly criticised the HRC for the lack of vision and poor
leadership when she left, while Routier cited the HRC's over-emphasis
on race and underemphasis on "socio-economic delivery" as the reasons
for her resignation.
Some former commissioners have chosen to hold their tongues in public.
In private, however, one or two are less discreet. They have criticised
the HRC for inefficiency, and especially for outsourcing work they are
paid to do and for showing a preference for expensive trips abroad to
fulfilling less glamorous but vital tasks at home. Thus when editors
were subpoenaed to attend the HRC hearings on racism Pityana was abroad
and a relatively junior official, HRC public relations officer Siseko
Njobeni, was left to deal with the initial storm of protest.
Democratic Party leader Tony Leon also took up the theme of HRC bias
in his contribution to the same parliamentary debate. Reminding the
assembly of the Dennis Davis incident, he then charged Pityana with
using the HRC's formidable powers to launch "a witchhunt" for suspected
racists. "The initial inquisition represented a blatant attack on the
freedom of the press (and) an attempt to silence dissent and shut down
criticism of the ruling party," he said. He went on to record "a
disturbing confluence of interest between the actions of the HRC and
the agenda of the ruling party". In his letter of reply Pityana accuses
Leon of slandering him in a personal attack "the viciousness of which
left me wondering whether I would be safe in a government under your
party", adding melodramatically, "Thank God the gallows have been
dismantled and Robben Island has been put to better use." Pityana does
not specifically deny a "confluence of interests" between the HRC and
the ANC. He does, however, stress that the HRC is an independent
institution beholden to no one party, no matter how powerful."
A key decision for the HRC panel charged with preparing the
forthcoming findings and recommendations on racism in the media is
which definition of racism the panel adopts. The heavily criticised -
and outsourced - research by Claudia Braude, which constitutes a major
proportion of the HRC's interim report, equates criticism of ANC
politicians, notably Mbeki and Gauteng Premier Mbhazima Shilowa, with
anti-black racism. The possibility that criticism may be ideological
rather than racial, or that it may focus on administrative incompetence
and not skin colour, is apparently excluded from her research paradigm.
Describing her research as "deeply flawed", Guy Berger, professor of
journalism at Rhodes University, says: "Braude went in search of racism
in the media and found it everywhere, much like the apartheid regime
used to discover reds under every bed and behind every bush." Her
general indictment of newspapers for anti-black racism extends, without
explanation, to newspapers that are black-owned and black-edited. The
ANC's broadly couched charge that the media peddle anti-black racism
but not anti-white racism largely converges with that of Braude and the
definition proposed by HRC panellist Margaret Legum.
In Legum's view racism in South Africa is a phenomenon confined to
whites since it is an assertion of white superiority emanating from the
structures of white supremacy. Her definition excludes black racism in
advance since for most of South Africa's history blacks were subject to
white rule and power. This view discounts the six years of governance
by a black-dominated government and fails to recognise that by the
1970s and 1980s whites were not all-powerful: that as black resistance
grew, white power diminished. Black racism, like white racism, is
visibly present in many parts of the globe and it seems bizarre to
argue that it is absent in South Africa alone.
Two further points should be considered when weighing up the
independence of the HRC against accusations of its confluence of
interests with the ruling party's agenda. First, at the end of its
submission, the ANC outlines a programme of action to address the issue
of racism in the media, including "a serious and transparently
monitored effort to deracialise" media ownership, management, editorial
control, and the senior echelon of journalists. It goes on to suggest
that the Human Rights Commission take the lead in this matter and not
merely close its inquiry into racism in the media by publishing
findings for the record.
Second, the HRC's legal armoury has been reinforced recently by the
controversial Promotion of Equality and Prevention of Unfair
Discrimination Act, which the Commission itself played a key role in
drafting. The law extends the HRC's power in three ways. It empowers
the HRC to conduct investigations into allegations of persistent
contraventions of the Act. More important it allows the HRC to take the
initiative and bring cases of unfair discrimination before the special
equality courts, which are currently being set up. It also makes it
possible for the HRC to be awarded damages, if it qualifies as "an
appropriate institution" (in earlier drafts it was expressly named in
this regard). This may give it a financial incentive to initiate
actions against institutions and individiuals, especially if they are
rich.
After South Africa's history of racial oppression and the denial of
human rights to the black majority, most South Africans concur with the
need to foster a human rights culture. There is no reason on the
available evidence to believe that the HRC is anything other than an
institution independent of government or any political party. The
danger is not so much that the Commission might wilfully advance a
party political agenda behind a facade of concern for human rights or
cynically talk about promoting human rights while systematically
extending its own powers. The danger lies more in the possibility of
government using the Commission to further its own interests,
especially to dampen press criticism, under the guise of the shared
desire to eliminate racism.
Far from excising racism in the media, some observers believe that the
hearings have made journalists more race conscious and so contributed
to a further advance of what Dr Mamphela Ramphele, formerly
vice-chancellor of the University of Cape Town, has termed "the culture
of silence", in which whites are reluctant to criticise the government
for fear of being dubbed racists and blacks hold their tongues in case
they are accused of being traitors.
Focus 18, June
2000.
Patrick Laurence
is an assistant editor on the Financial Mail.