Paper Tiger. Alide Dasnois

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СКАЧАТЬ were involved. Before Dasnois could respond, Howard said that it was ‘all in the past’ anyway, and the present meeting was intended to focus on the future, including a new project for Dasnois.

      Survé explained that he had decided that Dasnois’s point of view was not suitable for the Cape Times, too ideologically left and not ‘business friendly’ enough. He said he personally liked reading articles on alternative economics, but that sort of thing was not good for the Cape Times and the newspaper needed a new editor. He said he wanted Dasnois to work on a ‘Labour Bulletin’, which would include some business news, some economics and some labour coverage, and which would attract advertising from the trade unions. The new ‘bulletin’ might or might not be part of the group’s business daily, Business Report (which she had previously edited), and might instead be weekly or monthly. Dasnois would report directly to him.

      Taken aback, Dasnois asked Survé when he would want her to start this project. ‘From Monday,’ he said.

      ‘You can’t do this to the Cape Times in the middle of the Mandela story!’ Dasnois said, aware of how disruptive a sudden change in editor would be for journalists trying to cover the biggest story of their lives.

      An agitated Survé retorted: ‘Did you respect Mandela when you did this [pointing to that morning’s Cape Times]?’

      ‘Is that why you are firing me?’ asked Dasnois.

      ‘That’s not what I said,’ replied Survé.

      ‘You’re not being fired, we’re offering you another job,’ said Howard.

      Survé continued: ‘I am the executive chairman, and as of now you are no longer editor of the Cape Times. You will not go back there, and on Monday morning at 8.30 you will report to my office. Wait – you start your week on Sunday, don’t you? Well, you can report to my office on Sunday at 8.30, and if you don’t come you will be disciplined. As executive chairman, I can do this.’

      At this point Naudé and Howard suggested they all talk about her dismissal, to which Dasnois replied: ‘You probably need to talk about it without me. I think I should go now.’

      Survé put out his hand but she ignored it and walked out of the room.

      Chris Whitfield, still present at the meeting, was astonished. As Dasnois’s line manager, he had had no idea she was to be dis-missed. As the editor-in-chief in Cape Town, he had sometimes clashed with Dasnois over her news decisions on the Cape Times. He had been under pressure from management about falling circulations of both the Cape Times and Cape Argus and the perilous financial position of the latter. The Cape Times was losing readers in its traditional market, especially in the former white suburbs (at the time more than 50% of its readers were coloured and 30% white), and Whitfield feared that Dasnois was pursuing a new market too aggressively by shifting the emphasis in the paper towards stories from the townships. Dasnois, on the other hand, argued that these stories were of interest to all the readers of the paper, wherever they lived.

      As a successful former editor of the Cape Times himself, Whitfield found it hard to sit back and watch while the paper took the risk of alienating existing readers. The exchanges between the two were sometimes sharp, and on one occasion an exasperated Whitfield said to her: ‘They say that most managers lick upwards and piss downwards. You’re the only one I know who does the opposite.’

      A few days before the Vineyard confrontation Survé had invited Whitfield to a breakfast at the same hotel with Howard and Naudé, where he had begun the conversation about deploying the editor-in-chief elsewhere. At one stage the discussion turned to the Cape Times and Survé began reeling off a list of names of potential editors to succeed Dasnois. Whitfield understood Survé to be discussing an appointment to be made some time in the future – possibly after Dasnois’s planned retirement in six months’ time – but he did not believe any of them would be appropriate for the newspaper. The list included Gasant Abarder, the man who in the event would take over amid considerable controversy. Whitfield did not for a moment imagine that Dasnois might be fired within the week.

      As she left the room on that summer morning after the clash with Survé, Whitfield turned to Howard: ‘Is this how we are going to treat people in the company now?’ Howard, a veteran of the company from the days when it was known as Argus Newspapers, didn’t answer.

      Survé, who had left the room to make a call on his cellphone, reappeared. Whitfield says: ‘He said something to the effect that “that was my lawyer and he says I was right to do that now or she would just carry on writing crap about me”.’

      Dasnois, meanwhile, was walking to her car in a state of shock: ‘I’ve just been fired. I’ve really been fired,’ she was thinking. As soon as she got home she phoned labour lawyer Jason Whyte, who was to act for her in the long legal process which followed. They discussed an approach to the Commission for Conciliation, Mediation and Arbitration. Meanwhile, he told her, ‘Do what Survé said. Don’t go back to the office. Report to him on Sunday as instructed. And don’t talk to colleagues. But write down what happened while it is fresh in your memory.’

      For the rest of that day, Dasnois dodged repeated calls from Cape Times colleagues who had no idea what had happened and who wanted urgent instructions on the coverage of Mandela’s death. Head of news Janet Heard, who was managing reporters and photographers, wanted to know from Dasnois whether to send photographer Brenton Geach to Mandela’s home in Qunu in the Eastern Cape to cover events there. ‘Around 3p.m., I still had no word from Alide, and Brenton called to say that he had been told to chat to Chris about Qunu. Strange. Something was wrong. There was indecision. No planning.’

      In the late afternoon Heard and her family went to the prayer service to mark Mandela’s death at the Grand Parade. ‘Amazing sombre atmosphere. I sms’ed Alide to ask if everything was ok. “No,” she replied. I said I would try call her later.

      ‘We walked down Adderley Street, into Twankey Bar for a drink. I was called by NPR radio in the US to do a live link-up about the atmosphere in Cape Town that day. It went fine. Brenton called. I called Alide,’ says Heard. ‘Alide told me she had been fired from the Cape Times with immediate effect, not to return to the office. Chris was to take over as editor for Sunday. I was devastated.’

      On Saturday morning Chris Whitfield was at his Rondebosch home when his mail inbox pinged. It was a letter from Sekunjalo’s lawyers, ENS Africa, addressed to Whitfield and copied to the email addresses of Dasnois, Gosling and Howard.

      Dear Sir,

      RE: SEKUNJALO INVESTMENTS LTD

      We write to you at the instructions of our client Sekunjalo Investments Ltd.

      We refer to the reporting in the 6 December 2013 edition of the Cape Times concerning the release by the Public Protector of her final report into the award of the tender by the Department of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (DAFF) to the Sekunjalo consortium.

      Our instructions are that you have reported extensively over the past two years on the allegations by the disappointed bidder Smit Amandla and Mr Pieter van Dalen of the Democratic Alliance regarding Sekunjalo’s role in the award of the tender for the management of the research and patrol vessels of DAFF.

      Our client has instructed us to record the following:

      a.It has been alleged that Sekunjalo Investments Ltd is guilty of corruption; that it misled and/or defrauded DAFF; that it lacked the experience and expertise to undertake the management of the research and patrol vessels of DAFF; etc.

      b.These allegations have been СКАЧАТЬ