After the Bell: What am I, but my name?

I remember the first time I heard the phrase “what am I but my name?” I’m fairly sure it was in a radio conversation with Trevor Manuel when he was explaining why he felt it was so important to sue the EFF for defamation (it will come as no surprise that he won).

And from time to time I’m reminded of the power of that statement – that, while I suggested recently that we judge everything using numbers, it is absolutely true that we also judge people by their names, by their reputation.

That phrase echoed strongly in my mind on Wednesday afternoon when I was looking through my Stephen@702.co.za inbox. There was the usual mix of press release, opinion piece and press conference invitation. Since most of it was what I could call “corporate email”, I found it a little less interesting than your usual mixture of lively and sometimes wonderfully argumentative correspondence.

But in the middle of it all was something slightly different – an op-ed piece – and as I read the email it came with, my eyes widened when I came to this paragraph:

“I would like to know if you would be interested in endorsing, co-signing or giving your signatory for this Op-Ed (please see attached). If this is a topic that would be of interest to you, please do let me know, including any relevant costs or your preferred rate for your participation in this written piece.”

I know, I too had to read it twice. But it looked to me like someone was offering me money to simply put my name to a piece they had written.

That made me read the piece, which was clearly an attempt to stop our government from tightening their stance on Taiwan.

There was a name and phone number attached to the email. Being, I think you know by now, of a curious disposition, I phoned the person. I asked for a few details and was assured that, yes, my first conclusion was correct. I was being offered money (about R10k-20k, in case you’re interested) to put my name to the piece. And from there? It would be “submitted to South African publications”.

And yes, this agency was working with a PR agency in Taiwan.

At this point I started shouting. I have witnesses to attest to this.

After promising the person concerned that I would be keeping an eye out for the piece in “South African publications”, and would publicly ask the person whose name was on it if they had been paid, I put the phone down.

I like to think I’m of a cynical bent, but I still couldn’t quite believe it. I see all sorts of op-eds around. I have no problem with ghostwriters who take a person’s view, write it up well and publish it under the name of that person. But to completely write a piece and then pay someone to put their name to it is another story altogether.

It did remind me, though, about the power of a name.

When I heard that Manuel would be chairing the local organising committee for the 2027 Men’s Cricket World Cup, I knew Cricket South Africa was serious about making it work.

I know that if Mteto Nyati is appointed to solve a problem, it will be solved. When I heard MK had appointed Des van Rooyen as Chief Whip, I knew it would all be a (short-lived) disaster.

You’d take a comment seriously if you heard it had been made by Cyril Ramaphosa, but know it’s a lie if it had come from Malusi Gigaba.

So often the appointment of a person tells you what is going to happen next.

It was obvious that appointing Collins Letsoalo CEO at the Road Accident Fund would end in disaster (In the latest instalment of the horror show that is the RAF inquiry being held by Scopa it has emerged that he got his bodyguards to do work on his farm).

One of the major problems that young people face in our country is that they “can’t get work without experience, and can’t get experience without work”. What they’re also saying here is that they have not had a chance to make a name for themselves. And without a name, they cannot progress.

You are many things, but in the end you are nothing but your name. DM