The cut-throat method

In an attempt to rein in critical media, the government has embarked on a new trend: the withdrawal of advertising, an important avenue of income for most media. If we don’t like what you write, we’ll suspend some badly needed cash.

Within the past few months, at least three South African newspapers have found themselves caught up in this kind of reward-and-retribution scheme.

First, readers of the KwaZulu-Natal-based Witness didn’t get an Easter message from their provincial government because it was peeved about the paper’s reporting on what was commonly called the blue-light saga (government officials allegedly speeding down the N3, harassing fellow drivers and so forth, you will remember).

Then, the media reported that the government intended withdrawing ads from the Sunday Times to show its disapproval of the papers’ reportage on the health minister. (Although the Presidency now says a decision on this hasn’t been taken.) And even more recently, Grahamstown’s Grocott’s Mail is under fire from the local municipality, which launched an advertising boycott against the paper because it dislikes its coverage of municipal affairs.

This type of reprisal is not only abuse of power but also a threat to editorial independence, freedom of speech and democracy. It’s turning advertising into an incentive-and-punishment tool to keep criticism of the government in check, a way of financial blackmail to steer editorial content towards a government-friendly path.

The withdrawal of advertising can be a serious threat to publications, especially smaller papers, which gain an important part of their revenue from such advertising. Withdrawal of ads might kill them — and thereby silence them completely.

It is in the nature of independent media that they do sometimes have to bite the hand that feeds them — be it governments or businesses. And besides, criticism is a healthy and important aspect of media freedom, and governments should listen carefully to what the media –– often a loudspeaker of the people — have to say rather than act defensively and aggressively.

It is also important to note who is ultimately “punished” the most when government ads (service announcements, tenders, job openings, you name it) are withheld. It is the readers (who are the voters!) who miss out on important information and opportunities — because a spat between the government and a media house is carried out on their backs, to their disadvantage.

But, of course, it is not really a new trend to use the withdrawal of ads as financial blackmail, and South African politicians are certainly not the first to use it. I did a quick search on the net and found a number of (developing) countries where the media suffer withdrawal symptoms.

The government of Lesotho, for example, recently decided to suspend advertising with the Public Eye newspaper. And because there is almost no private advertising market in Lesotho, the paper strongly depends on state ads and is likely to fold if the government doesn’t change its mind. Now this is an effective way of silencing free speech.

Similarly, Pakistan’s largest English-language newspaper and magazine publishing house is faced with serious economic pressure because the country’s government has decided to withhold state advertising as long as news coverage remains critical of its actions. The same goes for Argentina and Guyana.

There have been incidents in Mexico — apart from cutting ads — where the president excluded reporters from certain newspapers whose coverage he disliked from any presidential trips. And the president of the Philippines allegedly offered industry tax breaks to film producers for refusing to advertise in one of the country’s biggest newspapers.

The only ray of light comes from Botswana where the government tried the same, but the High Court ruled it had violated two publications’ rights to free speech when it withdrew ads from the papers because they criticised the government. So, perhaps there is hope …