Photo by Gama. Films on Unsplash

“You remember the article I was telling you about?” Preeti said, taking a giant sip of her lemonade.

“Which one? The Gaza one?" I replied, happily munching on some chips.

“No, the one that criticizes the current government.”

“Oh! I remember that one! It was brilliant, Preeti. It’s a very needed article for today,” I said seriously.

Preeti sighed. “Unfortunately, my supervisor didn’t approve it. Said that such a harsh criticism would attract a lot of unwanted attention, and the local MP would try his best to boycott it. Not to mention, the company could be cancelled, and my job would be at risk. It may be an urgent need for today, but it’s honestly not worth the trouble,” Preeti said dejectedly, draining the last drop of lemonade.

I opened my mouth to argue, but quickly closed it. Truly, on what basis would I argue? It’s a known fact that in today’s India, The Freedom Of Speech is just limited to the Constitution, not in real life. Now, one can argue that the Freedom of Speech is a fundamental right and the courts are legally obligated to guarantee it. Theoretically, yes. Practically, no. India’s legal system is one of the most tedious and lengthy processes. One has to spend years to get justice. And especially when the perpetrator is a political leader, getting justice becomes nothing more than a myth. They would do anything to ensure that your voice is never heard, even killing you if needed. India has the misfortune of having many examples that have exposed the lengths criminals and the police will go to cover the dirt, such as the Hathras Case, the Murder of Priyadarshini Mattoo, the Tandoor Murder Case, the Kathua Murder Case, and the most recent R.G. Kar Case.

The troubling report that India ranks 151 out of 180 countries in the World Press Freedom Index has sent shockwaves across civil society. Issued by Reporters Without Borders (RSF), the 2025 report flags a deepening crisis: the gradual suffocation of independent journalism under the weight of a concentrated media monopoly, corporate-political alliances, and systemic intimidation. The numbers are more than just rankings—they are a mirror reflecting the state of our democratic soul. With countries like Nepal, Bhutan, and even war-torn nations ahead of India, the alarm bells are not just ringing—they are deafening. This is not just about press freedom; it's about the slow, quiet undoing of democratic accountability.

It's one thing when the police deliberately tamper with evidence to protect the criminals, often backed by political leaders or people in influential positions, but it’s another when the media, under the compulsion of the government, has to subvert narratives and say how the news was “fake”. Today, watching the news is akin to seeing journalists singing praises of their regional political party. Channels like Republic TV, ABP News, News 18, etc. have lost their credibility, which once made them a household favourite. National news networks are now nothing but blatant manipulations of the government to convince the public of its “goodness” and brainwash people into being its mindless sheep. Things have reached the point where the citizenry is now seeking independent journalists like Dhruv Rathee’s YouTube Channel, Soch by Mohak Mangal, Hothath Jodi Uthhlo Kotha, The Print, The Deshbhakt, Brut India, Jist News, etc., to get authentic news with real narratives.

Once a pillar of democratic vibrancy, India's press now finds itself grappling with constraints so intense that many journalists describe their profession as a “tightrope walk over a pit of fire.” From self-censorship driven by fear of sedition charges to orchestrated social media abuse against dissenting voices, the room to question the powerful has narrowed to a sliver. Journalists are not just at risk of losing their jobs—they're increasingly at risk of losing their freedom, or even their lives. This isn’t the first time we have seen governments actively targeting journalists, Gaza being the best example of the persecution of the Press. Journalists in Kashmir have been routinely detained, with some facing indefinite incarceration without formal charges. On the other hand, media houses daring to publish exposés on corruption, crony capitalism, or policy failures find themselves facing tax raids, license cancellations, or advertising blackouts. A media ecosystem that speaks in a single voice becomes an echo chamber, not a watchdog.

Perhaps most alarming is the rise of an unholy nexus between politics and big business in Indian media. The same handful of corporate conglomerates now control the majority of news consumption across television, print, radio, and digital platforms. These corporations often have deep ties to the ruling party, resulting in a chilling homogenization of news content that echoes state propaganda while silencing critical analysis. For example, the acquisition of several leading media houses by business empires close to the corridors of power has blurred the line between journalism and public relations. Prime-time debates have devolved into spectacles of performative nationalism, while crucial stories—farmer distress, unemployment, inflation, and human rights abuses—are pushed to the margins.

The media's job is not to chant slogans—it is to ask difficult questions, challenge dominant narratives, and hold the powerful accountable. But in today’s India, asking the wrong question can cost a journalist their career, or worse. Journalists like Siddique Kappan, Rupesh Kumar Singh, and Fahad Shah have become symbols of this repression—jailed, harassed, or constantly surveilled for pursuing inconvenient truths. The global community is watching and India's descent in the Press Freedom Index is a damning indictment of a democracy that is losing its way. An example of this dystopia becoming reality is the US under the Trump administration. The once glorious United States of America is a horror movie in the making: with trillions in debt, the President is spending millions of dollars to celebrate his 79th birthday and the birth of the U.S. Army. While the education sector is struggling against political suppression, healthcare is rising to sky-high prices, unemployment is at its peak, trade and commerce are deteriorating to a point of no return, and the economy is in complete shambles. All of these are eerily familiar to the socio-political and economic conditions of North Korea, an authoritarian government.

When journalism becomes a punishable act, the nation slides into authoritarianism, no matter how many elections it holds. Journalism is the mirror of society; it exposes society in all its ugliness. But the current government is trying to make it into a rose-tinted frosted glass, which shows you just enough of what it wants to show you. People can never question if they don’t know the truth. And what way to obliterate the truth than by uprooting its vessel? The more people don’t know, the more they are susceptible to manipulation and brainwashing. Another excellent example would be the Pahalgam attack, where instead of asking the real question of how a border area was left completely unguarded, people were too quick to violate an entire religion based on the actions of a handful of individuals.

While national media may still attract attention, the crisis is more acute in the regional and local press. These journalists often operate with fewer resources, less protection, and face the most brutal backlash. Many are freelancers or stringers covering corruption at the village or district level, where powerful landlords, local mafias, and even police function with impunity. The tragic deaths of journalists like Jagendra Singh in Uttar Pradesh and Shubham Mani Tripathi, shot for reporting on land mafia, reveal how dangerous local journalism has become. Their deaths barely made headlines, and justice remains elusive. Moreover, dwindling advertising revenues—especially post-pandemic—have made small media outlets vulnerable to both state and corporate pressure. Starved of funds and intimidated by threats, many are forced into silence or complicity.

India’s low press freedom ranking has diplomatic consequences as well. It undermines the country’s moral standing in the global order, especially when it seeks to position itself as a counterweight to authoritarian regimes like China. Hypocrisy is not a sustainable foreign policy. A compromised press weakens investor confidence, academic partnerships, and global perception. Democracies thrive not just on strong economies but on credibility, transparency, and accountability—values that are eroded when the press is under siege.

India’s current ranking in the World Press Freedom Index is a symptom of deeper institutional decay. A democracy without a free press is like a body without a pulse. You can prop it up, decorate it, and parade it—but it is lifeless. A press is only as free as its readers want it to be. While it’s easy to blame governments and corporations, the citizenry’s role in upholding or undermining press freedom is crucial. The rise of jingoistic media isn’t occurring in a vacuum—it is fed by consumer demand for sensationalism, patriotism, and identity politics. Audiences must reflect on their complicity in supporting media that prioritize outrage over truth. Subscribing to independent platforms, funding investigative journalism, and calling out disinformation are small but vital steps toward reclaiming the media. To secure the future of India’s democracy, instead of mourning for our fallen fourth pillar, we must resurrect it. A democracy without the right to speak and freedom of the media is a failed democracy.

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