Pistorius media frenzy spurs South African debate on violence

The only restraint on the frenzied media coverage of the murder trial of disabled South African Olympic hero Oscar Pistorius is Judge Thokozile Maspia's finger hovering above a button that turns off live coverage when she deems it harmful to the rights of witnesses and the victim's family. A judge's decision to allow live coverage of court proceedings for the first time in the nation's history has prompted all three local 24-hour news channels on pay TV to offer wall-to-wall coverage on Pistorius to the exclusion of almost everything else — including one of the most interesting election campaigns the country has had in 20 years of democracy. There are also two pop-up TV channels dedicated entirely to the trial, and one pop-up online radio station.

Traditional media outlets are battling to keep pace. One Afrikaans newspaper, Beeld, has launched its own online channel, BeeldTV, suggesting that the Pistorius trial coincides with a turning point for the country's print media. After a mushrooming of popular tabloids a decade ago, the circulation of most print vehicles has been in swift decline in recent years. In covering the Pistorius trial, print outlets are being eclipsed by electronic and social media.

Reporters — whether in the courtroom or simply following proceedings on television — are finding their Twitter followers rapidly multiplying as they give line-by-line coverage. Radio stations are buzzing with chatter, and traditional media find themselves covering the social media conversation.

Much of the tweeting and chattering is trivial — Pistorius is taking notes; he's holding his head in his hands. Some of it is driven by sensationalism reminiscent of the O.J. Simpson trial in the U.S.: reports that Pistorius beat Reeva Steenkamp — his girlfriend whom he fatally shot on Feb. 14, 2013 — with a cricket bat (later retracted), or pictures of a young woman alleged to be Pistorius' new lover. But amid all the empty noise, the trial has also sparked a rich national conversation about the justice system, media freedom, domestic and gender-based violence, and the fear-and-gun culture that grips parts of the country.

The pretrial ruling allowing an unprecedented live broadcast of a criminal trial (with certain restrictions) was based on a thoughtful examination of the need to balance various constitutional rights. That hearing itself was broadcast live, bringing into households the finely tuned analysis needed to understand what rights were at play and how judges formulate these decisions.

The trial judge, with a finger on the mute button, is required to constantly weigh the demand for judicial transparency against the rights of witnesses, victims and their families. The ruling required that the cameras be inconspicuous and remote-controlled; that the feed be shared with all who wanted it; that there be no close-ups or coverage from the court that was not part of the record; and that any non-expert witness could request that his or her face not be shown. Most important, the judge would keep the right to restrict live coverage at any time if she felt that justice was being impaired.

Because South Africa's courts don't use a jury system, there were fewer concerns that live coverage would influence court proceedings or encourage lawyers to engage in crowd-pleasing theatrics.

Still, it wasn't long — on day two, in fact — before some media pushed the envelope by finding an image on the Internet of a witness whose face was not being shown on the courtroom feed, and broadcasting the picture along with the audio of her testimony. The judge was angry and firm, and explored the boundaries of her authority by banning the publication of any pictures of such "private" witnesses for the duration of the trial.

Amid this week's grisly forensic evidence, one expert witness took it upon himself to argue against live coverage. He argued that he needed to protect the victim, his own medical ethics and children who might be watching the broadcast. That prompted Judge Maspia to halt live coverage and all "tweeting and live blogging" while she considered the matter overnight.

This was a reversal of precedent. Postmortem evidence had always been public in South Africa, and critics asked whether Steenkamp was being treated differently because hers was the corpse of a beautiful blond celebrity rather than, for example, a striking mineworker killed by police or a faceless rape-and-murder victim.

Also, neither the judiciary nor the media knew quite what was permissible.

If live tweeting was not allowed, for example, what period of delay was required? Was comment on other social media platforms allowed? What ensued was a rigorous public debate about the conduct, rights and role of the media — all spurred by the nervous anticipation that the judge might press the off button.

The same fear also restrained the media from doing their worst — South African media, that is. Foreign tabloids, as always, were less constrained by local law, carrying more speculation on the trial and focusing in on a pretty young lawyer.

A day later, the judge rescinded the Twitter ban, an apparent admission that this was not something she could control. She was making rulings and setting precedents on the fly, and the 66-year-old Maspia clearly had little experience of social media.

Distraction though the Pistorius trial may be, it has provoked lively and important debates in a country learning to embrace free expression after decades of repression. South Africans have spent recent weeks arguing about "intimate femicide," the fear of the invading "other" (since Pistorius claims he mistook his love for an intruder) and our love-hate relationship with fallen heroes.

The judge who originally ruled in favor of live coverage had said that one of the benefits was that South Africans would learn about the justice system, and how everyone was treated equally before the law. He was right that there would be a fast learning curve about the courts, as every detail is being taken apart, but patently wrong on the second count: What people were seeing was a rich person's justice, which is very different from the experience of the courtroom for most South Africans, who can't afford legal representation.

Still, for those in South Africa trying to draw attention to the failings of overstretched justice and law-enforcement systems, and campaigners against domestic abuse and gun violence, the media spectacle of the Pistorius trial has brought their issues to the forefront of a national conversation on new and old media platforms.