How Twitter broke the news about Manto

Was news of Manto’s death the Hudson plane crash of South Africa? Did the passing of the controversial former minister of health mark a coming of age of Twitter in this country? While comparisons aren’t entirely neat — the landing of the plane in the river was first reported by eye witnesses, which was not the case here — the role that Twitter played in spreading the news is significant.

For one thing, it revealed, in a public forum, what usually happens behind closed doors in newsrooms: rumours of a big story, frantic efforts to check sources, conflicting reports.

I happened to log on at about 2.30 in the afternoon, to see the following tweet from Toby Shapshak, the editor of Stuff magazine: “just heard that Manto has died”.

Wow. Credible source, I thought, since he’s an employee of Avusa and presumably hangs around the newsroom at The Times from time to time. I immediately directed a question at him: how did he know? Then I went onto Facebook and made the announcement in a status update, as one does these days. Then to the news sites to search for the story. Nothing. I asked Nic Dawes, the editor the Mail & Guardian, whether he knew anything. (That’s the amazing thing about Twitter: you have direct access to so many journalists and other public figures in one forum.) “Trying to find out about Manto before saying anything rash,” he tweeted. “She was said to be stable yesterday.”

Then a journalist at Sapa reported that no, Manto was alive; her doctor had said so. Lots of confusion in the Twittersphere. Was she or wasn’t she? Or was this some strange case of Schrodinger’s Former Minister of Health?

It was The Times that scored the scoop, with a brief report noting that sources close to Tshabala-Msimang’s family reported that she had died. A few minutes later Dawes confirmed it on Twitter: “ANC confirms the death of Manto Tshabalala-Msimang.”

Reaction was swift, hardly surprising when the figure in question is a woman accused in some quarters of genocide. “RIP” declared many tweets, offering condolences to the family. Others were, shall we say, less conciliatory. I was surprised by my own reaction, something akin to sadness. Perhaps it was because she featured in all three of my insult books, including the cover of the second. Nonetheless, I found myself unable to sympathise with Gareth Cliff’s reaction:

“Manto is dead,” he declared to his 23 686 followers. “Good. A selfish and wicked bungler of the lowest order. Rotten attitude and rancid livers — all 3 of them … ”

Ouch.

This story has so many dimensions. I don’t have the space or the time to address all of them in full, but one must surely comment on the role of Twitter in spreading the news and facilitating discussion. Ah, discussion. As Dawes observed of the participants some two hours after we had received the news: “You’re waging culture war. Ding dong the witch is dead — white. RIP — african.”

Some of the responses (all of them by white men — it was hard not to notice this) to Tshabalala-Msimang’s death were quite brutal. “I’m really sad, but you can’t tell because my sackcloth is at the drycleaner,” noted one tweet. “RIP Dr Manto Tshabalala-Msimang. And in other news, Johnnie Walker sales plummet 34%” quipped another.

Ivo Vegter was especially vicious: “Joyful tidings for those on the liver transplant waiting list: maybe your government won’t murder you after all.”

One discussion in particular, between a well-known figure in the communications industry (who happens to be white) and the creative director of an ad agency (who happens to be black), got quite nasty, with suggestions of libellous and inaccurate re-tweeting. The comedian Loyiso Gola implored people to get some perspective. “People are overreacting … let us all take a step back,” he argued. “Think what day it is today.”

I believe my fellow blogger Sipho Hlongwane is addressing what appeared on Twitter this afternoon in more depth, but what stood out for me was the way African identity was conflated with respect for the dead, and a desire not to criticise. Responding to Cliff’s comment, shakasisulu declared: “He must grow up. Or grow African … I am disgusted @GarethClif to rejoice because Manto is dead.”

It was perhaps to his credit that Cliff — who has landed in hot water for being controversial before; on Twitter, the Broadcasting Complaints Commission can’t touch him — refused to back down: “Getting a lot of heat about my Manto comment earlier: It’s what I said while she was alive, and I’m not going to lie just because she’s dead.”

So, what can we make of all of this? Yes, there will be the angst over the cultural divide and the vast difference in reaction to the death of an offensively incompetent political figure; one side arguing about respect for the dead, the other retorting that truth is more important. (And yes, there are quite a few in the middle, me among them.)

But what really stands out about the news of Manto’s death is the potential of Twitter to transform the way we communicate in this country. It will not replace traditional media, because news of this nature can only be considered credible once traditional media have confirmed it (and indeed, Twitter could help to drive readers hungry for information to news sites). Twitter is not entirely user-friendly, and all too often the discussions it hosts are wrist-slittingly banal. But it’s the only forum of its kind we have: where South Africans of influence are able to debate and discuss, and ordinary citizens may also participate. Today, I was very aware as I watch my Twitter feed, of a nation in intense conversation with itself, 140 words at a time.

That all of this should happen on Reconciliation Day is strangely apt.