f I must die/ you must live/ to tell my story/ if I must die/ let it bring hope/ let it be a tale

— Refaat Alareer

(1979-2023), Palestinian writer, poet and activist

In April 2014, Canadian journalist Kathy Gannon was shot and seriously wounded (taking seven bullets) while covering preparations for the Afghan national elections when an Afghan police officer opened fire on the car in which she was riding. Her close friend and colleague Anja Niedringhaus was killed instantly in the attack. Gannon later wrote about the attack: “I looked down and my left hand was separated from my wrist, I remember saying, ‘Oh my God, this time we’re finished’... One minute we were sitting in the car laughing, and the next, our shoulders were pressed hard against each other as if one was trying to hold the other up. The shooting ended. I looked toward Anja. I didn’t know.”

When we heard the news, we were shocked. Kathy is a close friend of the family and we all felt as traumatised as her own family, some of whom live in Pakistan. In Pakistan, we have become desensitised to many things, including violence, since we are exposed to it so closely and so often. But of course, when it strikes close to home, it’s another matter altogether. After an injury such as the one described above, the physical recovery is long and arduous. Full recovery may take months or years and the person may be left with permanent physical disability. The emotional and mental sequelae such as symptoms related to post-traumatic stress disorder can also last for years.

That same year, two prominent Pakistani journalists Hamid Mir and Raza Rumi also barely escaped with their lives after being attacked in Pakistan. Both were outspoken critics of government policies. Thankfully, both survived to continue their courageous reporting.

The International Day to End Impunity for Crimes against Journalists is observed on November 2 each year. The idea was first proposed by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation. It was officially recognised by the UN General Assembly in December 2013. The date (November 2) was chosen to coincide with the anniversary of the assassination of French journalist Ghislaine Dupont and her colleague Claude Verlon in Mali in 2013. Their murders had underscored the dangers journalists face, particularly in conflict zones.

The day aims to promote the safety of journalists and emphasise the importance of a free press in upholding democracy and human rights. Events and campaigns are organised globally to honour those who have lost their lives or been silenced for their work, and to advocate for stronger protections and accountability measures for journalists. The observance aims not only to remember those who have been harmed but also to encourage stronger action to ensure that crimes against journalists do not go unpunished.

It is ironic that it has taken the UN so long to recognise the simple fact that those who criticise and report on injustice and violence anywhere in the world, including in their own countries, should be honoured and lauded rather than attacked and killed. My grandfather, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, served as chief editor of The Pakistan Times, the paper founded by Mian Iftikharuddin at the urging of the Quaid-i-Azam.

For four years after independence, Faiz led the campaign and laid the foundations for a fearless, impartial and courageous media tradition with his two news papers, The Pakistan Times in English and Imroz in Urdu as well as the weekly Urdu magazine Lail-o-Nahaar. Even today, Faiz’s editorials in Pakistan Times should be required reading for all those aspiring to become journalists for his fearless advocacy of the rights of workers, women and the oppressed worldwide, especially in our own country. Trenchant and vocal critiques of government’s economic and social policies as well as political decisions such as joining the US-led ‘defence’ pacts, which essentially turned Pakistan into a US military base, were published regularly in the editorial pages of both these newspapers. Of course, Faiz was arrested and jailed by Liaquat Ali Khan’s government ahead of Pakistan’s first elections in 1951 followed by a harsh crackdown on all voices critical of the government. This paved the way for Pakistan’s first martial law in 1958. The rest, as they say, is history.

Today, as we are witness to the Zionist assault on Gaza having annihilated tens of thousands of innocent Palestinians, including the poet Refaat Alareer, and the murderous forces of Israel poised on the doorstep of our neighbour Iran, the question is posed once again, as Faiz wrote: “Writers, where do you stand? What is journalism if not speaking up for those who have no voice of their own? Media is the ‘fourth estate.’ Its true role has always been to provide checks and balances to the power of other pillars of the state including, to use today’s parlance, the ‘establishment.’ That it has become yet another commercial enterprise to be sold to the highest bidder is a tragedy. But for it to play its true role, courageous and honest journalism must be honoured and the brave men and women who practice it must be protected.”

All men and women of conscience who speak out against the barbarism of our time at home and abroad and who risk their lives to bring us the news from far away battlefields are heroes and must be acknowledged as such.

The writer is a psychiatrist and faculty member at King Edward Medical University. He is the author of Faiz Ahmed Faiz: A Biography, Sang-e Meel Publications, 2022. His X handle: @Ali_Madeeh