The federal government’s Foreign Media Facilitation Guidelines 2026 are rightly raising troubling questions about Pakistan’s commitment to press freedom and democratic accountability. The concerns expressed by the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) and the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists (PFUJ) are neither misplaced nor exaggerated. Rather than facilitating journalism, these restrictions appear designed to make independent reporting more difficult, reinforcing an already worrying pattern of shrinking civic space. Under the new guidelines issued by the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, foreign media organisations covering stories outside Islamabad, Karachi and Lahore must first obtain a no-objection certificate (NOC) from the ministry. The rules apply not only to foreign print and electronic media but also to digital outlets, social media platforms and web-based publications. In effect, foreign correspondents and their Pakistani colleagues will require prior government approval before reporting from much of the country.
Governments may well have legitimate concerns about inaccurate reporting, misinformation or biased coverage. Such concerns, however, cannot justify restricting journalists’ movements or preventing them from carrying out their work. Democracies do not respond to reporting they disagree with by putting up bureaucratic barriers or controlling access. If the government believes certain reports are misleading or factually incorrect, the appropriate course is to rebut them with verifiable information rather than attempting to prevent journalists from reporting in the first place. The new guidelines also point to a growing sense of insecurity. Resorting to restrictions, bans and regulatory hurdles often betrays a lack of confidence in one’s own ability to counter criticism. More worrying is how such measures create a broader culture of censorship. Restrictive actions by the federal government often encourage similar tendencies at the provincial level. Just as the Prevention of Electronic Crimes (Amendment) Act has raised concerns over online freedoms, provincial governments have increasingly demonstrated their own willingness to suppress criticism. Punjab’s Defamation Act is one such example. Sindh offers another. Per reports in the media, the Sindh Board of Film Censors has banned the screening of a film that highlights the long-standing problem of ghost schools, an issue that has plagued Sindh’s education system for years. Ironically, the film cannot be screened in the very province where it was shot and where its central theme is most relevant. Such decisions inevitably invite an uncomfortable question: why would any government fear a film unless it is uncomfortable with the truth it portrays? Instead of suppressing uncomfortable narratives, provincial authorities should focus on addressing the governance failures that gave rise to those narratives in the first place.
Democratic governments cannot demand public trust while simultaneously silencing those who expose policy failures. Accountability requires accepting criticism. So, whether it is restricting journalists, blocking media websites or banning films, the underlying instinct remains the same: to control the narrative rather than confront the underlying problems. This approach is ultimately self-defeating. Attempts to suppress information just end up amplifying concerns about transparency and governance. This is bad for the state and the government and terrible for optics. One wonders at the lack of foresight behind such decisions. Year after year, government after government, we witness the same reflexes and offer the same advice. A state is not threatened by journalism. It is threatened when it cannot counter fake news. And the best way to counter fake news or propaganda is to encourage real journalism. Let journalists do their job and misinformation will increasingly expose itself. Banning journalists, websites or films is a juvenile own goal. Surely, we can move beyond the same old reactions?
