Rewriting reality will never work in today's Maldives

Reflections on the dawn of journalism bring an unbidden grin to my face, solely because of the absurdly oppressive climate that defined that era.

Rewritable discs and enforced silence

One infamous date in particular stays vivid as though it happened yesterday: September 19, in the aftermath of Evan Naseem being tortured and murdered while in prison custody.

The memory recalls crowded streets filling Malé City and the deadly shooting episode that unfolded right inside the prison walls.

The point here is not to dissect that specific tragedy, but rather to look closely at the controlling machinery that kicked in immediately afterward.

Back in those days, a representative from the President’s Office routinely frequented the newspaper headquarters.

This individual was a regular fixture, tasked with hand-delivering a rewritable optical disc pre-loaded with the exact story designated for the front page alongside the mandatory image calibrated to stretch across precisely three columns.

On one notable trip, this courier arrived with a sealed envelope containing an official directive that was short, plain, yet chillingly authoritative. The instruction bluntly made it known that any reporting on that day’s occurrences and all subsequent fallout could only be composed in strict accordance with the guidance and narratives dictated by the President’s Office.

Such was the unvarnished reality: editorial boards had zero control over newspaper content or the breadth of coverage.

Even when reporters witnessed breaking developments firsthand, printing those observations remained completely forbidden.

A familiar face in the modern briefing room

Ironically, one of the people positioned to understand this dynamic best currently occupies the post of Chief Spokesperson at the President’s Office, Mohamed Hussain Shareef.

Even more surreal is the sheer irony that it was Shareef himself who used to personally carry those discs containing prefabricated articles and imagery into the newsroom.

What a truly striking coincidence.

That was the repressive state of affairs back then.

Step by step, across a chain of subsequent events, reporters finally began to cast off their constraints.

Newsrooms abandoned the docile habit of reciting government-sanctioned inquiries at press briefings and started pursuing questions of actual public significance.

True investigative reporting took root. Reporting shifted toward genuine eyewitness accounts and verified facts rather than parroted releases.

Alongside statements issued by cabinet ministers and state authorities, newspapers introduced alternative viewpoints and diverse interviews, accompanied by authentic photos relevant to the actual stories.

When fear lost its grip on the public

Media practitioners broke free largely because ordinary citizens discovered their own spine.

The widespread terror that previously prevented individuals from debating political developments or reading articles skeptical of the regime steadily vanished.

Regardless of severe roadblocks, the public clandestinely circulated and consumed the “Dhivehi Observer”.

This growing wave proved unstoppable, surviving counter-offensives even when state-sponsored outlets like Fact Maldives and The Maldives were created specifically to neutralize it.

Meanwhile, government retorts against stories in Minivan News and Adduvas magazine started surfacing in Hamaroalhi, the mouthpiece of the ruling DRP of the era.

Before long, hard-fought press freedom arrived, and freedom of speech was actively practiced.

Topics previously restricted to muffled bedroom gossip or coordinated from exile abroad spilled openly into public squares, as speakers delivered defiant remarks right from podiums at mass gatherings.

Reality check for the incumbent

Without wasting words on nostalgia, the core message must be delivered cleanly and without ambiguity to the current Head of State, President Dr. Mohamed Muizzu, who governs beneath the modern Constitution that enshrined these liberties.

Whether this is received as well-intentioned counsel or a firm caution makes no difference.

President Muizzu needs to understand that those dark days are long gone.

This is not an era where public expression can be suppressed by passing legislation or issuing gagging decrees.

Truth cannot be locked beneath a tight lid to hide developing scandals from public view. Internal executive maneuvers cannot be kept behind closed doors no matter how intensely an administration wishes to bury them; they will not stay concealed.

Reporters will not submit to dictation or agree to label the night as daytime. When an item costs MVR 23, no power can insist it costs MVR 15.

No volume of enacted legislation, draconian mandates, or threats equivalent to being executed at the stake will ever resurrect that obsolete control model.

Shareef, the administration's own chief messenger, understands this historical reality better than anyone.

By the exact same logic, Sajidha cannot simply be referred to as Amina, nor can Mohamed be swapped for Ahmed.

Sajidha remains Sajidha, and Mohamed remains Mohamed. Respectfully.