Chapter 1 – Introduction Rewind to 7 September 2008: it was a day which infuriated, shocked and made many South Africans question if legendary political cartoonist Jonathan Shapiro (Zapiro) had finally taken opinion too far, and opened the door for indecent editorial cartooning. The Sunday Times, South Africa’s most popular weekly newspaper, chose to print his Rape of Lady Justice cartoon (Figure 1) in which soon- to-be South African president, Jacob Zuma, is seen unbuttoning his pants, while the symbolic figure of Lady Justice is held down by four of his cadres: then-African National Congress (ANC) youth league president Julius Malema1, ANC secretary- general Gwede Mantashe, South African Communist Party (SACP) leader Blade Nzimande and then-Congress of South African Trade Unions’ (COSATU) secretary- general Zwelinzima Vavi2. The figure of Mantashe urges Zuma on with, “Go for it, boss!” – implying the imminent rape of Lady Justice. Figure 1 South Africans were divided. Many felt that the cartoonist’s gritty portrayal of Zuma hit far below the belt. Some argued that it was a disgraceful depiction in a society struggling with gender violence and high rape statistics (Mason, 2010a). 1 Expelled from the ANCYL in 2012. Now leads South Africa’s newest political party, the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF). 2 Dismissed from this post in 2015 for allegedly breaching COSATU’s code of conduct. 8 Zapiro had not only belittled Zuma, but had, some activists felt, belittled the survivors of gender violence through the simplification of their trauma into a pervasive metaphor (Solomon, 2011). Loyal Zuma supporters, who were already critical of Zapiro’s depiction of Zuma’s showerhead3, were even more outraged by Zapiro’s damning portrayal of Zuma as a rapist; a label they believed had been dismissed legitimately by the South African legal system (Harvey, 2008). Zuma felt the same, and sued Zapiro for damaging his reputation and dignity for R7-million (Swart, 2008). Others felt, however, that this cartoon presented a valid, hard-hitting and thought- provoking metaphor for the dilemma in which South Africa found itself at the time (Smuts cited in O’Grady, 2008; Saunderson-Meyer, 2008). Zapiro himself “vociferously defended the cartoon as a legitimate expression of his role and mandate” as a political cartoonist (Mason, 2010a: 212). In 2012 the case against Zapiro was dropped hours before it was due to be heard in court, and as a result Zapiro’s criticism of Jacob Zuma and the ANC appears to be on the rise. One of his most offensive pieces published in the last few years was a cartoon in which he chose to portray President Zuma as a giant penis (Figure 2), in response to the banning of Brett Murray’s painting The Spear4. This time, however, Zapiro admitted that perhaps his portrayal had overstepped the mark in regard to ‘good sense’, and that it ‘lacked [his] usual nuances’, but denied that his work was immoral or illegal (Mail & Guardian Literary Festival, 2012). Critics argued that the media should be more responsible, but where does one draw the line in relation to political cartooning, especially when cartoonists themselves admit that they sometimes overstep the mark in relation to good taste? The answer lies in the discussions to follow, and, as the most widely published and syndicated political cartoonist in South Africa, the work of Zapiro is used as this thesis’ primary case study. 3 As will be discussed later, Zapiro began depicting Jacob Zuma with a showerhead during Zuma’s rape trial in 2006 after he stated that taking a shower would help prevent contracting HIV. 4 In 2012, artist Brett Murray painted a portrait of Zuma with his genitals exposed in an exhibition entitled “Hail to the Thief II”. The painting, which was vandalised to ‘cover-up’ Zuma’s exposed penis, elicited a vast amount of criticism for being disrespectful, and led to suggestions that artists should be censored. 9 Figure 2 Initially, this thesis explores of the history of cartooning in general, and considers how political cartoonists and satirists have developed to become alternative social watchdogs attempting “to keep a jaundiced eye on democracy and those threatening it” (Lamb, 2004: 4) by lampooning society’s elite. Ultimately, they are now regarded as a counter-balance to the fair and objective nature of traditional journalism. Editorial cartooning aims to take the facts presented in the news, and distort and exaggerate them in an attempt to pass comment and create debate among citizens (Lamb, 2004). Zapiro clearly succeeds in doing this, because South Africa is often wrought with debate over why his cartoons are either justified, insulting, unfair or just plain irrelevant (Mthembu, 2012). However, with each new controversial cartoon that is published more is being written about the role of political cartooning in South Africa, and why this type of commentary is one of the reasons there is a need for more rigid press regulations (Mason, 2010a). In part, the advocation for more stringent regulation appears to stem from the belief that the current South African press is more concerned with perpetuating sensationalism than operating in a socially responsible manner. Jeremy Cronin (2010), of the South Africa Communist Party (SACP), argues that the print media in South Africa are driven by “a narrow commercial imperative of presenting news and particularly politics as a shallow spectacle [creating] a climate in which serious political analysis and debate are marginalized”. And unfortunately, due to their 10 distorted and exaggerated ideas, political cartoons are often mistaken as propagating a sensationalist agenda. Ironically, it appears that many social commentators have lumped political cartooning into the same regulatory category as traditional journalism, citing that it should be fair and accurate, rather than accepting that its very nature is required to be unfair and stereotyped in order to spark critical political debate (Seepe, 2008; Brown, 2008; Mason, 2010b). Brian Sokutu, a spokesman for Jacob Zuma, was quoted as saying that Zapiro’s cartoons abuse free speech and undermine journalistic ethics (Hess, 2011). However, as explained by Chris Lamb (2004: 102), the role of the political cartoonist is not one confined to traditional newspaper ethics; rather, it is a tool “to awaken society and demand its involvement in protecting democracy, regardless of how unpleasant the intrusion might be.” But as debates surrounding many of Zapiro’s cartoons prove, there are times when the unpleasantness of intrusion borders on the socially and culturally unacceptable, and questions are raised as to whether the right to free speech outweighs other personal constitutional rights in the South African context. South Africa is a nation which has a tumultuous history, both politically and socially. As a result, many civil liberties are considered hard fought and won battles, and free speech is possibly one of the most treasured rights, as South Africans reflect on more than 40 years of government censorship. Simultaneously, the right to dignity also has a pivotal role to play in a country where many individuals were treated as sub-human for decades under colonial and apartheid rule. In order to balance these freedoms, the mass media are often called to act in a socially responsible manner, whereby free speech is protected as long as it does not aggravate underlying social tensions or propagate hate speech, in order to protect individual dignity (South African Constitution, 1996; Mason, 2010a; McQuail, 2010). Problematically however, these principles are often subjective interpretations which differ between each individual. Conventional media ethics aim to create a navigational path for traditional journalists to follow in regard to this, but political cartooning relies entirely on cartoonists’ personal judgements, guided by the (usually) traditionally trained editor under which the cartoonist works (Lamb, 2004). 11 Fundamentally, cartoonists are not journalists, and the aim of cartoons is to operate as visual editorial commentary that works in conjunction with other opinion pieces regarding topical social and political issues (Lamb, 2004; Harrison, 1981; Eko, 2007; Mason, 2010a; Mason, 2010b). Importantly, they have to be read in conjunction with the ‘news of the day’ if the reader is to grasp their full meaning, and generally consist of a one-panelled illustration which aims to depict visually and comment on a particular social event or issue in the news. As Chris Lamb (2004: 42) explains, political cartoonists “distort the news of the day to express what they regard as the truth about someone or something.” Consequently, editorial cartoons are often considered to be counter-discourses that aim to undermine and challenge dominant ideologies that leaders permeate through traditional news stories (Eko, 2007). During the early days of South African cartooning, for example, cartoonist Daniel Boonzaier frequently ridiculed Jan Smuts 5and Louis Botha6, depicting them as “lackeys of British imperialism and of capitalist Randlords” (Mason, 2010a: 48). The questions raised by these cartoons forced Botha to address various political issues, which allegedly created great stress and ill-health for him, and ultimately earned Boonzaier the title of the “man who killed Botha” (Mason, 2010a: 48). Today, we could argue that Zapiro has the same type of relationship with Zuma, while other South African cartoonists, like Jeremy Nell, have chosen their own political targets (Julius Malema) to