When Sifiso Mahlangu’s transition to MK Party spokesperson became public, the reaction in media circles was swift. It was framed as proof that journalism has become a cynical springboard; that editors were merely building political careers behind the thin veil of editorial independence and that the fourth estate had been colonised by partisan ambition.
It is a seductive argument. It is also, in its broadest form, wrong.
The Mahlangu case is troubling, but not because a journalist entered politics. That move has occurred on every continent, producing some of the most consequential public servants in history. What makes this case distinct, and the distinction must be stated clearly, is the alleged overlap: the suggestion that Mahlangu may have begun consulting for the MK Party while still editor of The Star newspaper.
If true, this is a serious ethical breach. The scandal is not the destination; it is the concealment en route.
Sequence matters, as does the integrity of the exit. Consider others who have navigated this path. Ayanda Allie had long left broadcast journalism before her involvement with Bosasa. Songezo Zibi had departed Business Day long before founding Rise Mzansi and chairing Parliament’s standing committee on public accounts. Neither crossed the floor while holding editorial keys.
They closed one chapter before opening another. The failure to make this distinction does not just muddy the debate; it actively defames the craft.
None of this touches the deeper question: what does journalism demand of the human beings who practise it? There is no statute, no press code, and no charter that demands a journalist surgically excise their political identity as the price of their press card. What is required, what is non-negotiable and is non-partisanship in practice.
A journalist may privately believe a particular party is steering their country toward ruin. That is their right as a citizen. What they cannot do is allow that conviction to corrupt their work: to selectively quote, bury inconvenient facts, or frame stories as verdicts rather than accounts. The line is not the existence of an opinion; it is the contamination of the work.
The best journalists are people of towering conviction. They care ferociously about justice, power, and the consequences of policy. That empathy is not a weakness; it is their fuel.
The discipline of the craft is the refinery that turns raw passion into credible journalism. Nobody produces fearless investigative work from a position of indifference. You do it because you care so deeply that you refuse to get the facts wrong.
History is unambiguous. Helen Zille covered the death of Steve Biko – one of the most consequential acts of reporting in our history. Did her eventual entry into politics retroactively taint that work? The suggestion collapses under its own weight.
Consider the international precedent. Tanzania’s Benjamin Mkapa was a respected journalist long before he became president and built a developmental record his country still measures itself against. Similarly, Australia’s Maxine McKew anchored flagship current affairs programmes for years before unseating a sitting prime minister during a federal election.
Were these people running a “long con”? Were their notebooks merelya cover for political ambition? Or is it more likely that they were journalists first, and their reporting educated them into the urgency of direct action? Here is the provocation the comfortable consensus avoids: journalism, done properly, sometimes produces people who can no longer remain observers. After years of documenting hunger, corruption and the yawning gap between what is and what could be, some journalists reach a point where the notebook is no longer enough. They have been educated by the faces behind the statistics into a conviction that they must participate. That is not a betrayal; it is journalism working exactly as it should. It produces a convicted citizen who feels the weight of democratic responsibility.
What is unforgivable is not conviction. It is the journalist who carries a partisan agenda covertly and who smuggles their allegiances into their copy without the integrity to own them publicly. That is what the Mahlangu situation represents: the dishonesty of the transition.
The answer is transparency, mandatory disclosure, and enforceable cooling-off periods. An editor who intends to enter partisan politics should step down and observe a meaningful interval – time enough for their past decisions to be assessed without the shadow of their future allegiances.
The journalists who leave the newsroom for the floor of Parliament are not the problem. Sometimes, they are proof that journalism worked. The problem is the one who tries to be both, secretly, at the same time.
- Magaqa is an award-winning journalist and media entrepreneur.
- The controversy around Sifiso Mahlangu becoming MK Party spokesperson raises ethical concerns primarily due to alleged overlap between his journalism role and political consulting, not the career switch itself.
- Ethical journalism requires non-partisanship in practice, not the elimination of personal political beliefs, with accountability focused on preventing biased reporting.
- Historical and international examples show journalists can transition into impactful political roles without their prior work being compromised, highlighting journalism as a pathway to civic engagement.
- The critical issue is the concealment of political ambitions during journalistic tenure; transparency, mandatory disclosure, and cooling-off periods should be enforced for such transitions.
- Journalists entering politics openly can symbolize journalism’s success, but secretly holding partisan agendas while reporting undermines trust and integrity in the profession.
When Sifiso
It is a seductive argument. It is also, in its broadest form, wrong.
If true, this is a serious ethical breach.
Sequence matters, as does the integrity of the exit. Consider others who have navigated this path.
None of this touches the deeper question: what does journalism demand of the human beings who practise it?
A journalist may privately believe a particular party is steering their country toward ruin.
History is unambiguous. Helen Zille covered the death of Steve Biko – one of the most consequential acts of reporting in our history. Did her eventual entry into politics retroactively taint that work?
Consider the international precedent. Tanzania’s Benjamin Mkapa was a respected journalist long before he became president and built a developmental record his country still measures itself against. Similarly, Australia’s Maxine McKew anchored flagship current affairs programmes for years before unseating a sitting prime minister during a federal election.
Were these people running a “long con”? Were their notebooks merelya cover for political ambition? Or is it more likely that they were journalists first, and their reporting educated them into the urgency of direct action? Here is the provocation the comfortable consensus avoids: journalism, done properly, sometimes produces people who can no longer remain observers. After years of documenting hunger, corruption and the yawning gap between what is and what could be, some journalists reach a point where the notebook is no longer enough.
What is unforgivable is not conviction. It is the journalist who carries a partisan agenda covertly and who smuggles their allegiances into their copy without the integrity to own them publicly.
- Magaqa is an award-winning journalist and media entrepreneur.
