Pulack Ghatack

I have criticized the media for failing to highlight the plight of the affected and to give voice to the voiceless. However, I do not blame journalists as a whole. Expecting those who lack the courage or capacity to address their own struggles to amplify the voices of others is unrealistic.
In August 2024, journalists faced physical assault at the hands of protesters. Was the media able to report this violence against its own members? Groups of attackers stormed newspaper offices and television stations, unleashing destruction, looting, and even setting offices ablaze. Journalists had to flee for their lives.
We have barely discussed the filing of murder cases against over 150 journalists, the arrests of several, and the cancellation of media accreditation cards. The fragile and precarious situation within the media remains largely hidden from view.
The recent controversy involving student leader Hasnat Abdullah, who allegedly pressured Somoy TV to sack five journalists, pales in comparison to what occurred in recent months. Starting on August 5, mobs systematically raided media offices. Editors fled, unable to return to work, and their positions—and in some cases, ownership of the outlets—were forcibly seized. Many journalists lost their jobs and livelihoods, and those who were directly targeted by attackers could no longer safely return to their workplaces.
Under the Awami League’s regime, TV talk shows once welcomed guests with diverse political views. Now, dissenting voices have been systematically silenced. The state of journalist organizations has become so dire that it defies description. During Sheikh Hasina’s tenure, every encroachment on journalistic freedom or expression sparked protests, often led by us. Yet today, there is an unsettling silence.
Critics of journalists often forget that journalism, like any other profession, is a livelihood. Journalists have families to feed and must worry about their children’s futures. Without job security, how can they write freely? Moreover, this profession inherently comes with significant risks.
One of the media’s greatest weaknesses in Bangladesh lies in its ownership structure. Media owners are deeply entrenched in other business ventures. Instead of directly targeting the media, the government applies pressure on these owners, leveraging their other interests, forcing them to comply. To protect their broader enterprises, these owners sacrifice editors, journalists as well as press freedom. Adding to this are opportunistic collaborators within the media who prioritize career advancement over principles. Promotions and positions are often not based on merit but on loyalty and subservience. What profession, after all, is entirely free from greed and ambition?
Out of respect, I won’t name specific institutions, but they are well aware of these issues. Before advocating for others, the media should have focused on covering the attacks on its own members. Where were the reports replaying footage of offices on fire? Where were the loud and relentless protests? Have they achieved even that much?
Despite immense pressure, journalists still manage to expose some truths. For this, we owe them our gratitude. Journalism that falls silent in the face of attacks against itself cannot be expected to serve the broader needs of other afflicted communities.