The fall of prime minister Sheikh Hasina in August 2024 was supposed to mark a turning point for journalism in Bangladesh. After more than a decade of growing control, political pressure, and self-censorship, it was widely expected that the removal of an authoritarian regime would help restore media’s independence and credibility. It did not.
What followed, however, exposed a more uncomfortable truth: journalism had already lost much of its integrity long before the regime fell, and the reasons that eroded both freedom and credibility did not disappear with political change.
The decline began gradually during Hasina’s tenure, when a significant section of the media abandoned its role as a watchdog and instead aligned itself with the ruling establishment. And this alignment was not always forced.
There were instances of pressure and intimidation, but many media owners and senior journalists made conscious choices to stay close to power. For some it was a question of survival, but for others it was a calculated trade-off. Favourable coverage of the government often meant business benefits, regulatory leniency or protection from legal scrutiny. Journalism, in such cases, became a secondary consideration to wielding influence and protecting interests.
Over time, this relationship between the power and media reshaped newsroom culture. Editorial independence weakened as decisions increasingly driven by political convenience rather than professional judgment. Critical reporting was soften or avoided, while praising the government became a daily routine. Many journalists began to behave less as independent observers and more like political players, openly advocating for the government and its narratives.
This slow decline in standards undermined not only freedom of the press but also its credibility. Citizens became wary of media content, wondering whether news was being reported in the public’s interest or crafted to benefit those in power.
By the time Hasina regime collapsed, this crisis had already taken root. The immediate aftermath only deepened it when many of the same outlets that had consistently supported Hasina swiftly reversed their positions, adopting an aggressively critical stance against her.
This radical shift did not signal a return to journalistic standards, but instead reinforced the notion that editorial decisions were made based on political loyalty.
At the same time, the power vacuum triggered a competition for control over media organisations. Journalists and groups aligned with Hasina’s political opponents, particularly Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) and Jamaat-e-Islami, moved to wield influence over newsrooms.
In numerous instances, incumbent editors and journalists were removed from their positions, branded as collaborators of the prior regime. Media outlets became arenas where political loyalty determined leadership. This was a continuation of partisanship under different leadership.
The chaotic environment that followed further undermined journalistic freedom. With the weakening of state authority, non-state actors began to exert pressure on the media. Groups (made up of student leaders who were involved in the mass uprising) that had emerged during the anti-government movement, along with loosely organised “Towhidi Janata” (Islamist mobs), started influencing what could or could not be published.
Instead of formal censorship, there was an atmosphere of intimidation. Threats, attacks, and public accusations created a climate where journalists felt constantly vulnerable. Even outlets that wanted to pursue independent reporting found themselves constrained by the risk of retaliation.
In this context, self-censorship reached new heights. The mechanisms of control changed, but their impact remained the same.
During Hasina’s rule, journalists often faced direct or indirect instructions from state agencies or officials. After her fall, those calls were replaced by the fear of mob action or political backlash. The result was a media environment where caution dictated coverage. Editors and reporters became highly selective, avoiding topics or angles that might provoke powerful actors.
The interim administration led by Muhammad Yunus failed to reverse this trajectory. Its inability or unwillingness to confront lawlessness allowed intimidation to persist. Public threats against media organizations were not adequately addressed, and attacks were not prevented. This lack of accountability reinforced the perception that controlling or silencing the press carried little risk. In such an environment, the idea of independent journalism became increasingly fragile.
The return of electoral politics and the formation of a government under Tarique Rahman gave some sense of stability. The violence and unpredictability of the transitional period subsided, and journalists no longer confronted with the same immediate physical threats. But a new set of political loyalties emerged to take shape within the media, mirroring the patterns established during the previous regime.
While the current environment may seem better than before, it still reflects an old tendency toward alignment with those in power. Some media outlets, now influenced by figures close to the ruling establishment, appear inclined to protect government interests. Others attempt to maintain a degree of independence but do so cautiously, mindful of potential consequences. This balancing act—seeking to exercise freedom without antagonizing authority—illustrates the persistent limitations of journalism.
The deeper issue is that freedom and credibility are intertwined, and both have been compromised by years of partisan behaviour of a significant number of editors and journalists, who prioritised political or personal gain over truth, weakening their ability to claim independence. This way, people lost trust while the media’s moral authority diminished. In turn, this made it easier for powerful actors—whether governments, parties, or groups—to justify interference or exert control.
What Bangladesh is experiencing is not simply a failure of one regime or another but a systemic problem within the media landscape. Ownership structures, business interests, and political connections continue to shape editorial decisions.
The expectation that journalism would become free after the fall of an authoritarian government overlooked these deeper dynamics.
Against this backdrop, media owners must separate business considerations from editorial decisions. Journalists must resist the temptation to align with power for personal benefit. Governments must ensure protection without interference. Until these changes take root, the cycle will continue, destroying the long-held hope of pursuing independent journalism.
The story of journalism in Bangladesh, therefore, is not just about repression from above but also about compromise from within that no change in government can reverse.
