The first casualty of war, including this one, is truth

Every unexpected phone call — from home, from a relative in another part of the country or from a friend — causes anxiety. Too frequently, these past two weeks, one’s worst fears are realised. S’fiso, who you were with in primary school and became a schoolteacher, succumbed to Covid-19. Thembi, whose family lives five houses from S’fiso’s, is also no more. Down the street from your parents’ house a family is burying a mother while her husband is in hospital.

It is like the early 2000s all over again, but this time the pandemic attacks with more frequency than HIV/Aids. At least with HIV/Aids, by the time death struck you would have had a chance to say your goodbyes to loved ones.

The coronavirus may be less lethal in the sense that the vast majority of those who contract it suffer only mild symptoms and that those who die are a tiny minority. But it is still more brutal in its suddenness.

And then there are the necessary lockdown regulations that mean you might not be able to pay your final respects to a deceased friend, colleague or distant relative.

A silent war is how politicians described the global fight against the pandemic at the start of the year.

Those of us who lived through the bloody turmoil of the late 1980s know the pain of being in constant fear of a nebulous enemy that randomly attacked people in trains, churches and other public spaces, as well as in their homes.

But unlike the low-intensity civil war of the 1980s, we are all on the same side here and there is only one enemy: Covid-19. From the very beginning of this long battle it was clear that the government would have to take the lead and marshal all our available resources in trying to achieve victory.

Traditional political rivals put aside their differences to focus on the battle ahead. Citizens made great sacrifices and agreed to suspend some of their rights and privileges in a bid to flatten the curve. It was not easy and there were many instances where some among us let down the team by refusing to observe all the restrictions that had been imposed to curb the spread of the pandemic.

But by and large, the vast majority of citizens stood behind the government’s efforts.

Much of this was made possible by the kind of leadership displayed by President Cyril Ramaphosa and his team. Their initial messages were clear, frank and credible.

Bar a few contentious issues, citizens knew why certain sacrifices needed to be made.

But as we now approach the eye of the storm, with the number of infections growing at an alarming rate, the state seems to be failing in one crucial area where, in the early days, it excelled: communication.

This is a new virus about which scientists learn fresh information every other day, so it is understandable that some of the messaging from the government will be confusing and even contradictory.

What is unacceptable, though, is to have government officials and public office-bearers feeding us wrong information and then refusing to take responsibility when that information is exposed as false.

The saga surrounding the alleged preparation of 1.5-million graves in Gauteng to be ready for mass deaths from Covid-19 must go down as one of the lowest points in the government’s handling of the crisis. The same can be said of the “scooter ambulances” in the Eastern Cape. On both occasions, the sources of wrong information were government MECs and their departments. But instead of taking responsibility for their mistakes, they sought to deflect attention by accusing others, especially the media and opposition, of misrepresenting them.

In a war situation, information and communication are everything. How are citizens expected to continue putting their trust in the government to lead the fight if information that comes from our public officials is unreliable and causes panic?

The government spends millions of rands every year to run its communications arm, the Government Communications and Information System (GCIS). But since the crisis started, the GCIS has taken a back seat, leaving much of the communication to politicians. But given the fact that when the going gets tough, some of our politicians resort to spinning and disseminating wrong information in a bid to make headlines, it is time the professionals at the GCIS played their roles with more confidence. Otherwise the government runs the risk of losing credibility in the eyes of citizens at the very moment it needs them to be on-side as we ride into the fiercest gales of the storm.