NEO-DEMOCRACY? THE EDITORIAL SPACE IS EMPTY

NEO-DEMOCRACY? THE EDITORIAL SPACE IS EMPTY

29-JULY-ENG 11

RAJIV NAYAN AGRAWAL

ARA-----------------------“When the pen goes silent: An elegy to democracy”

During the Emergency, newspapers left their editorial columns blank in protest. Today there is no formal censorship, but self-censorship, fear and ideas are being stifled in the name of ‘patriotism’. Asking questions has become treason, and editorials have now become spokesmen for the establishment. At a time when every word has become a risk, a blank editorial is perhaps the most powerful cry — it says, “We are silent now, but not dumb.”

“During the Emergency, newspapers left their editorial columns blank in protest. Today editorials are being written — but it seems as if the emptiness has been filled within.”

When Indira Gandhi declared the Emergency in 1975, protesting meant going to jail, picking up the pen meant losing paper. Still, 'Indian Express', 'Jansatta', 'Pratipaksh' and many regional newspapers chose the most vocal form of silence against the government by leaving their editorial columns blank.

Today, emergency has not been declared. There has been no formal suspension of freedom of press. Still, journalists are in jail. Some were killed, some were sold, some became silent. There is a whole generation that does not know that in a democracy, newspapers ask questions to the government, not do aarti.

The new democracy is where the government speaks, the public listens. If the government lies, the media turns it into a slogan. If a farmer dies, a student cries, a woman screams - the camera angle is changed. The new democracy is where "sedition" is no longer the limit of expression, it is the definition of disagreement. Where "nationalism" is no longer public interest, it has become the dress of government interest.

Because when everything has been written, but nothing is left worth printing - then the ink dries up. In 1975, fear was outside, in tanks and uniforms. Today the fear is within, in the name of TRP and funding. Censor officers were appointed in 1975. Today journalists themselves have internalised censorship. Those who used to write are now accused of 'slip of tongue'. Those who think are suppressed in the noise of the IT cell. Those who show the truth, their screens are 'blacked out'.

Once it was a request - "Please remain silent." Now it is the order of the government - "Be quiet, otherwise you will be called a traitor." Speaking is no longer dangerous, it has become illegal. Writing poetry is no longer an emotion, it is called 'ideology'. Asking questions is no longer a civic duty, it is a crime. "Be quiet" is no longer played only at railway stations, it has become a warning on every news channel, every newspaper, every social media post.

People raised their voice during the Emergency. Went to jail, protested. But today we are within an undeclared emergency - and are silent. Perhaps because today's censorship is not of violence, but of convenience. Perhaps because fear is no longer visible, it is hidden in attractive packages – “All is well”, “Growing India”, “Vishwaguru”. We are the generation that has chosen narrative over truth. Which has removed news from the newspaper and made it an event. Which has even read the preamble of the constitution, but did not understand it.

Because words are ineffective now? No. Because now there is no one to listen? No. Rather because sometimes silence itself becomes a scream. “Blank editorial” is necessary again today – because every word is now being underlined, every sentence is being analyzed, and a case is being filed on every disagreement. Sometimes a blank page says what words cannot.

Our reader now just wants entertainment. Reading editorials is no longer in his interest. He is not interested in searching for truth, but in ‘relatable’ content. He lives in “trends”, not in “facts”. So newspapers also serve the same thing now – the same faces, the same worn-out thoughts, the same power-friendly language.

If you see the editorial blank — don’t be surprised. Understand, no one is able to say anything. If you read ‘devotion’ in the editorial — understand, the pen has bowed down due to compulsion or has been sold. If you are still writing — then definitely raise a question within yourself: Is my pen working in the interest of the power or the society?

When a Dalit woman of a village will be beaten up — and her video will go viral, when a student will be sent to jail on charges of sloganeering, when a poet’s book will be banned, or when an editor will be fired from his job just because he published the truth… then maybe someone will say again:

“The editorial is blank — because democracy is silent right now.”