August 5, 2024, marked a national tragedy in Bangladesh—a day when democracy was not only dismantled but buried under a coordinated civil-military takeover. What followed was not simply an administrative shift but the emergence of an authoritarian regime bent on silencing dissent. And nowhere has that repression been more visible than in its war against journalists.
The War on Journalism
In today’s Bangladesh, being a journalist means standing at the frontline of truth—and paying the price for it. Once entrusted with the vital task of asking questions, holding power accountable, and informing the public, reporters now operate in an atmosphere thick with fear, hostility, and the constant threat of professional ruin.
The assault is neither random nor disorganized. It is systematic. And it bears the clear fingerprints of figures like Mustafa Sarwar Farooqi and the regime he now advises.
When Asking Questions Becomes a Crime
At a recent press event, three journalists—Rahman Mizan of Deepto TV, Bashar of Channel i, and Fazle Rabbi of ATN Bangla—posed pointed, necessary questions to Farooqi. They asked:
• Where did the number 1,400 martyrs come from?
• Is it justifiable to label someone a murderer without a court ruling?
• How is national unity possible when violence and division are endorsed?
These are not radical demands—they are the foundational duties of a free press. But instead of answers, these journalists were met with an avalanche of slander. Branded as “fascist agents,” “Hasina’s dogs,” and “traitors,” they became the targets of online mobs and public threats. Marches were promised outside their newsrooms. Their safety, careers, and dignity—now hanging by a thread.
Targeting Journalists Is a Declaration of War on Truth
The attacks on Mizan, Bashar, and Rabbi are not isolated incidents. They are part of a larger, more terrifying pattern: a coordinated campaign to muzzle critical voices. These journalists did not represent any party or ideology. They represented the public’s right to know. But in the new Bangladesh, truth itself is treason.
Let us be clear: this is not simply an attack on individuals. It is an attack on all of us.
When Journalism Is Silenced, So Are the People
The targeting of journalists is a grim warning. Today, it is Mizan and his colleagues. Tomorrow, it will be anyone who dares to question. In recent months, even media houses like Independent TV have come under ideological siege, with newsroom autonomy quietly gutted and editors forced to toe the line—or face elimination.
This is not partisan vendetta. It is an existential threat to free expression, public accountability, and the democratic promise itself.
In the Name of a Revolution, a War on Truth
The regime claims to be leading a revolution. But revolutions don’t begin with the silencing of dissent. They begin with dialogue. With courage. With truth.
The organized repression of journalists is not a glitch in the system—it is the system now. If we normalize this, if we accept this, we are not just abandoning the press—we are abandoning the future.
We Must Stand Now—Or Never
Every democracy begins with the freedom to speak and the freedom to ask. If those freedoms die, so does the society they sustain. What is at stake today is not just the fate of a few brave reporters. It is whether we will allow Bangladesh to become a place where truth is punishable by exile, unemployment, or worse.
History has taught us that silence is complicity. And if we are silent now, we risk becoming the very society we once condemned—where journalists whisper, and truth is buried alongside democracy.
Now is the time to speak. Loudly. Together.
