Furore over FBJ and its coconut journalists

I have it on good authority that the biggest sellout and “father of African journalism” is planning a marathon party among the dead to congratulate white journalists and their coconut cohorts who have, so far, managed to suppress the relaunch of the Forum of Black Journalists.

As I understand it, media-created coconut journalists will make speeches to thank white colleagues for being midwives in the abortion of the FBJ. In fact, they have effectively suppressed the freedom of black journalists, if there is such a thing, not only to define themselves but also to explain themselves to the world.

Black journalists lack a conceptual grasp of what constitutes black journalism.

We have to thank white journalists for showing that in their coverage of current political affairs, they really do slant the news in an anti-black direction that neither gives information nor provides space and time for champions of so-called “black journalism” to explain what it constitutes.

We have to thank all the commentators, especially coconuts in the media, who have not pointed out that black journalists — just like their counterparts in law, accounting, management and business, for instance — have a right to organise themselves as a lobby group without threatening national unity and reconciliation. We are still to read a fair, balanced and objective story that gives the FBJ a chance to tell us what it is trying to do.

We have to thank the media celebrities for observing that in their opinion, any black person, especially a journalist, who wishes to assert his or her right to self-determination and projecting a perspective that promotes the aspirations of the African poor, if at all, should not be allowed space to challenge the conscience of those who consider themselves “black”.

Finally, I expect no one to thank me for saying this: black journalism does not exist. So what is this fracas about?

My sources tell me that the organisers of the FBJ — SABC political editor Abbey Makoe, Muvhango soap producer Duma Ndlovu and freelance writer and event coordinator Nomvula Khalo — will publicly applaud me for alerting the world, especially the media fraternity, that there is nothing to fear from the FBJ because black journalists do not exist.

They will applaud, too, when I say the FBJ would have allowed so-called black journalists to be more introspective, examine their rights and responsibilities in a transition and systematically map out a role that would, hopefully, see them set the news agenda in Africa’s hottest story of the 21st century — South Africa!

According to my research on the father of African journalism, this profession has been a sham since its inception in the late 1880s. OK, maybe that is too harsh. Maybe, in a cheap attempt to “shock”, I am insulting media elites who are a bunch of powerful and influential types.

But I do not think so. When it comes to sheer arrogance, abuse of positions of public prominence, lack of accountability and carrying on like a dictator, black journalists and editors make many of Africa’s political leaders and governments look like saints. They thrive on one-sided stories that present their opinions as fact.

Let me come to the reason why there should be no brouhaha over the formation of FBJ. Firstly, it was proper for the president of the ANC, Jacob Zuma, to agree to address this gathering. Not to address an exclusive black gathering. That part, for him, is terribly easy as he lives in a black world. What made the meeting important was that we urgently need somebody, even if it is Zuma, to ask so-called black journalists one question: What do they represent?

This is what made the effort worthwhile because we do need to put the spotlight on the plight of what has been defined as “black journalism” over the centuries. It is a sticky subject that needs rigorous intellectual scrutiny.

Well, let the truth be told: since John Tengo Jabavu launched his Izimvo Zabantsundu in the late 1880s, there has never been such a phenomenon that can, rightly or wrongly, be called “black journalism”.

Black journalists who are passionate, self-sacrificing and committed to genuine African self-determination and liberation have always struggled to gain a strong foothold in mainstream media. In fact, they are condemned to be annihilated. Very few of them have survived the jackboot of suppression and manipulation of white paternalism.

It’s rather striking that in the new South Africa you rarely find “black journalists” who promote pan-Africanism or defend the right indigenous people to take their destiny into their own hands. Instead, if this is allowed, it always happens under the paternal eyes of capitalist bosses who, inevitably, determine the limits of freedom of expression and the media.

Not too long ago, there was much brouhaha when Cape Town-based Bennie Bunsee, an outspoken pan-Africanist diehard and activist, launched a public attack on the integrity of so-called black journalists. Writing in the Cape Times, Bunsee said: “Our black journalists write like white journalists.”

But he was generous in his praise of black journalists, methinks. If truth be told, black journalists may not be told by their white bosses how to think and what to write, but they understand their limits.

So, why should whites be excited about the relaunch of the FBJ? There is not much “black journalism” in mainstream media or academia. It just does not make sense because, essentially, freedom of the media belongs to those who own and, effectively, set its agenda. To a large extent, black people do not, as much as an increasing number of them hold high positions, hold shares in major media companies.

If truth be told, so-called black journalists are not even allowed the right to make mistakes, which include pointing out the contradictions among the black elites who insist on taking their children to private schools, speaking English and moving into white suburbs because they believe everything white is superior, for example. Instead, most of what black journalists report is to project these “lost souls” through the prism of white eyes, which, inevitably, portrays them as super-achievers.

I know that there are many blacks and whites who will tell you that this is mindless theory. They will go on to suggest that it “insults” the intelligence and independence of free black commentators, thought leaders, editors, writers, journalists and other important Africans who now own a stake in the media.

Well, people will have to re-examine the undeserved credit that has been given to so-called black journalists. It is not enough to dismiss critical observations as “incoherent ramblings,” which is the new way to suppress those who are not praise singers for so-called black journalists.

When we look at the role of mainstream black media and their professionals, it is easy to see why there is nothing like independent black journalism. Instead, we find a plethora of media that recreates the image of the new dispensation in the white man’s stereotypes and prejudice.

In fact, black media’s greatest inclination in the post-1994 era has been to specialise in the PhD syndrome: pull Africans down!

It would seem that the black journalists will do everything in their weak power to please capitalist bosses and save their jobs and meagre salaries.

In fact, we can trace this back to the 1880s when the imperialist Cecil John Rhodes and his political cohorts sponsored the founding and launch of the so-called first “independent” black newspaper, Imvo Zabantsundu.

When this happened, South African Native Congress members and gallant journalists such as Sol Plaatje and Reverend Walter Rubusana, for instance, challenged Jabavu’s right to represent “black opinion” and launched a newspaper called Izwi Labantu (Voice of the People) to oppose and expose him for not being a black journalist.

Of course, over the centuries too much credit has been given the politically misguided John Tengo Jabavu who, to date, is considered a pioneer and “father of African journalism.”

But nobody wants to remind us that this was done to get Jabavu to influence blacks who owned some small property and had some Christianising education to vote for a system that would promote promote black oppression and entrench white paternalism.

Today Jabavu is a historical figure and political celebrity because he promoted the dispossession of the land, supported by the Land Act of 1913; helped wipe out African voting rights; and encouraged white paternalism in political leadership. Also, the bugger was given money to found Fort Hare University to stop Africans from going to study abroad and thus being exposed to the common humanity and ignorance of Europeans and Americans.

The doctrine of black journalism, if you figure it out, is to be loyal servants of white paternalism who permanently echo their white master’s voice. Simply put, this is to encourage blacks to equate good and value with “whiteness” and thus promote the philosophy of looking up to the white culture and achievement. The key message is: assassinate the integrity of “blackness.”

This is exactly what places the current situation of transformation in the media closer to the 1880s atmosphere than the political realities of 2008. The facts speak for themselves.

Yes, there has been no significant paradigm shift in the political thinking of celebrated black journalists in mainstream media since the mid-1800s.

If one were to visit any newsroom, for instance, you would realise that the limit of the power and influence of black journalists, if any, is still prescribed by white sub-editors and middle management. Thus the phenomenon of black journalism, in the context of today’s world, is still alien to reflecting genuine African self-determination.

White paternalism — which continues to express itself through the selection of topical issues, writing of headlines, framing of the agenda, the appointment of prominent black columnists and editors, decisions on what to publish, control of middle management and ownership of the means of production and allocation of scholarship to Harvard — is still the norm.

So, black journalism — as echoing pan-Africanism that demands self-determination and a black person who is true to that which “stirs in his primitive soul” — is censored and pushed to the margins. It is blasphemy and sacrilege, a threat to the system. It is for this reason that Bantu Steve Biko was killed for his “I write what I like” column. Significantly, he was not a mainstream black journalists but relied on a student newsletter to express himself.

Any black person who is intuitively connected to the genuine aspirations and hopes of the African majority must be pushed to the margins, weeded out and condemned to a political no-man’s-land. You can ask Jon Qwelane or Christine Qunta, for instance, about this. Thanks to the ancestors, they are still lucky to be still alive.

It is unfortunate that not enough attention is paid to authentic black journalists who have disappeared from the media after many years of being considered heroes or “credible voices” by their own people. But it is well known, especially in critical media circles, that the prerequisite to climbing the ladder quickly in black journalism is not only to please the owners but also to be hostile to the new political dispensation and “pull Africans down”. In fact, anyone who does not obey and conform to this sensationalist norm is a problem.

Instead, the views that are legitimate, relevant and thus given prominence are those that perpetuate the post-modern John Tengo Jabavu political thrust that channels national attention on how racist and corrupt blacks are.

Hopefully, the relaunch of the FBJ will enable media professionals to subject their work to rigorous intellectual scrutiny. This would encourage critical self-examination and promote freedom of expression that makes room for the articulation of genuine African aspirations.

Part of the solution-oriented programme of the FBJ would be to investigate and understand the impact of the John Tengo Jabavu legacy. The problem of the 1880s repeats itself simply because Rhodes’s arrogant descendants and Jabavu’s heirs do not learn from historical mistakes.

Of course, the relaunch of the FBJ would be a welcome development in a society that bestows the right to people to form associations to promote freedom of expression and uphold ideals enshrined in the Constitution. But it is a very big mistake to look at the colour of a group of coconut journalists and assume that they are “black”.

In fact, there is very little that today’s black journalists and high-flying black editors have learnt from John Tengo Jabavu. It would be a most positive development if the FBJ were to look into the phenomenon of “black journalism” as defined by Jabavu’s legacy.

What marks this whole furore about the FBJ is that, once again, it denies freedom of expression and the media to black journalists to find themselves and denies the nation an opportunity to gain insight into the confusion that prevail in the minds of those who are considered “black” simply because of skin colour.

This article was refused publication — without explanation — by the Star, City Press, Sowetan and Cape Times five days before the FBJ debacle