By Saba Chaudhry
When communication disappeared in a violent crackdown on protestors, what was lost was not just internet access but also the ability of people to make themselves heard.
That is what happened in Pakistan-administered Kashmir. For months, internet and mobile networks went dark as civilians were killed and dozens of protest organisers arrested. Local and international journalists could not reach their own sources; some stopped trying and began censoring themselves instead.
Residents were left to guess at their own reality from government statements and stray social media posts. People who lost their loved ones had no platforms to explain or find out what was happening in the area.
Contracting media space
The Guardian could not independently verify the death toll as media were prevented from accessing the area and the internet blackout remained in place, making it hard to reach local communities. It wrote that Pakistani media “have largely ignored the protests and alleged killings”.
The result was a gap in coverage, with local voices all but silenced by the state at the exact moment of crisis when they had most to say. Many found it difficult to tell their stories to the media.
The restrictions in Pakistan-administered Kashmir are part of a wider contraction of Pakistan’s media space. Reporters Without Borders ranks Pakistan 153rd out of 180 countries in its 2026 World Press Freedom Index and says authorities continue to restrict the dissemination of journalistic content.
For governments, control of the narrative provides the appearance of order and legitimacy. Control is also a mark of its authority: the right to decide what happened and what did not. Traditionally the state does not own the truth, but it achieves position over it, often by owning the infrastructure through which truth must travel. A movement’s visibility, its survival, its very shape in public memory are entirely dependent on this infrastructure.
Attempts to control media
Increasingly shaped by internet and mobile shutdowns lasting weeks, life in Pakistan-administered Kashmir suggests that the information vacuum brought about an unequivocal narrowing of what could be known, and by whom, among the region’s cut-off population.
The first shutdown began on June 5 when mobile internet service was suspended in Jammu and Kashmir and now more than 80 days later internet restrictions still have not been lifted fully. Internet was restored shortly but then again cut off in some parts.
A second shutdown attempt followed in late July, coinciding with the region’s general election, which the JKJAAC (Jammu Kashmir Joint Awami Action Committee) boycotted outright.
‘‘Much of what happened between protests and elections was an attempt to control the narrative and hide the truth. People were demanding and protesting for their rights, but the State just wanted to show nothing is happening,’’ said Fatima (name changed for safety reasons), a journalist from Azad Kashmir.
‘‘I was working with local media in Kashmir, but now I cannot go anywhere without government permission. Around 92 civilians have been killed but the communication blackout is still there. This is one of the biggest communication blackouts in the history of Azad Kashmir (local name for Pakistan-administered Kashmir),’’ she tells MDI. ‘‘Even government officials give very limited information and then they say ‘we cannot provide you more information’.
‘‘In that period, many things happened – local journalists, community members, organisers were either silenced or they self-censored themselves,’’ she says. ‘‘I had no choice but to self-censor myself as they were placing journalists on 4th schedule.’’
The Fourth Schedule is a watchlist under Pakistan’s Anti-Terrorism Act of 1997, originally created to track people suspected of terrorism or sectarian violence. Anyone placed on it becomes a “proscribed person” and faces a specific set of restrictions, including having their bank accounts frozen, employment restrictions, and their travel and movements curtailed.
Fatima’s colleague Danish Irshad, a Rawalpindi-based journalist who has covered the politics of Pakistan-administered Jammu and Kashmir (PaJK) for nearly a decade, was placed on Pakistan’s Fourth Schedule terrorism watchlist alongside 24 others from the same region. The government has also utilised the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act to investigate journalist Asad Ali Toor and detain three Kashmiri journalists.
No story unless the State approves
The blackout in the region was only the start of restrictions on the media, which have extended into Pakistan. On August 2, the Pakistan Ministry of Information and Broadcasting blocked access to Al Jazeera’s website in Pakistan accusing the outlet of biased AJK election coverage.
In same week on August 4, the Pakistan Ministry of information and broadcasting imposed new draconian guidelines, under the new ‘Foreign Media Facilitation Guidelines 2026’. Under the guidelines, foreign correspondents, including Pakistani journalists working for international media outlets, are required to obtain a No Objection Certificate (NOC) to cover news outside the cities of Islamabad, Lahore, and Karachi.
The BBC, which had reported from the region, later issued a statement regarding press restrictions in Pakistan. “Freedom of the press is increasingly under pressure around the world and this unwelcome change in approach is a step backwards for Pakistan’s media freedom.”
‘‘The new guidelines for international correspondents and international media outlets have further narrowed the already limited space available for independent reporting. They risk making it even more difficult for journalists to verify information on the ground and report beyond official accounts,’’ says Hazaran Baloch who works for international media organisations.
‘‘International media outlets have, in many cases, provided more space for ground reporting, particularly during protests and human rights crises, when their correspondents or local contributors are able to report from affected areas. However, we have also seen international media face restrictions when their reporting challenges or goes beyond the official narrative,’’ Baloch added.
The recent events in Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) demonstrated the gap between what was happening on the ground and what was being reported by much of the national media. Footage and accounts from the ground circulated through other channels while mainstream and international coverage remained limited or restricted.
‘‘I personally report on human rights issues in Balochistan and have faced pressure over what I publish. At times, journalists are discouraged or directly warned against writing about certain issues or even discussing them on social media. These restrictions make it increasingly difficult to document events independently and to ensure that the voices of affected communities are heard,’’ Hazaran told MDI.
‘‘There are instances where national media reports essentially reproduce official press releases without independently verifying them or incorporating the concerns and testimonies of people affected by the events. This raises serious questions about the media’s ability to perform its role as an independent source of information and a platform for public accountability,’’ she says.
People finding their own way
In the absence of traditional coverage, people turned to social media instead.
‘‘Two or three pages became trusted go-to sources when news came from them. People knew it was authentic, and any speech or announcement shared there spread almost instantly, gaining widespread traction among the public,’’ said Haris, an activist from Kashmir.
Social media reels on Instagram and Facebook provided a space to people. In a landscape where state media offered one version of events and access to independent reporting was restricted, these pages filled the vacuum verifying claims, amplifying voices from the ground, and giving people a sense of what was actually happening beyond the official narrative.
But according to Haris even in areas where there was no social media ‘‘people used local networks and even announcements through mosque loudspeakers to communicate”.
When communication is controlled, reporting is restricted and local voices are pushed out, the loss is not only of press freedom. It is the loss of a community’s ability to tell its own story, leaving those who live through the crisis with less power to document what happened, challenge the official narrative and be seen in the wider media.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of the Media Diversity Institute. Any question or comment should be addressed to [email protected]
