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THE Maldivian parliament has recently passed a new Media and Broadcasting Regulation Bill that threatens to fundamentally erode press freedom in the archipelago. The legislation, presented by MP Abdul Hannan Aboobakuru and rapidly fast-tracked through the People’s Majlis, would dissolve existing regulatory bodies — the Maldives Media Council and the Maldives Broadcasting Commission (BroadCom) — and replace them with a new Maldives Media and Broadcasting Commission. Critics warn that this new body would be stacked with presidential appointees, empowered to fine, suspend, or shutter outlets, block websites, and retroactively investigate media actions.

The law will reverse decades of hard-won progress. Journalists in the Maldives, who have often operated under fragile protections, now fear an environment of state-sanctioned censorship. For a country that has styled itself as a rising democracy and a tourism powerhouse, the bill signals a worrying slide back into authoritarian control.


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The anatomy of the bill

AT FIRST glance, the bill might appear to be a technical restructuring of media regulation. In reality, it is a dramatic centralisation of power. The new Maldives Media and Broadcasting Commission would consist of seven members, three of whom—including the Chairperson — would be appointed directly by the president. The remaining four are to be elected by media outlets, but the law disqualifies outlets less than five years old from voting. This clause, seemingly minor, effectively excludes many of the most dynamic online outlets, which have grown rapidly in the past few years.

The commission’s powers are sweeping. It can impose heavy fines — ranging from about USD 325 to USD 6,490 depending on the severity of violations — on journalists and media outlets. It can suspend registrations, block websites, and halt broadcasting during investigations, even before any finding of wrongdoing. Worse still, it permits investigations into actions taken up to a year before the bill becomes law, introducing the spectre of retroactive punishment.

Journalists warn that these provisions amount to a weaponisation of regulation. Rather than upholding professional standards, the MMBC would serve as a political tool, discouraging critical coverage and rewarding compliant outlets.

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Why the bill is repressive

THE bill undermines journalistic independence at every level. Although four members are to be elected by media outlets, the presidential control over three key seats, including the chairperson, gives the executive disproportionate influence. The possibility of removing elected members through parliamentary no-confidence votes further reduces autonomy.

The language of the bill is deliberately vague. Offences such as ‘non-compliance with codes of conduct’ or ‘disrupting public order’ can be interpreted broadly, enabling regulators to penalise almost any form of critical reporting. International watchdogs, including the Committee to Protect Journalists and the International Federation of Journalists, warn that such ambiguity invites abuse.

The disenfranchisement of outlets under five years old compounds the problem. In a digital era where independent blogs, podcasts, and news platforms are often the most agile voices of accountability, the bill deliberately sidelines them. The effect is to privilege older, often more politically connected outlets, while strangling emerging ones.

Most concerning is the provision to suspend or block media pending investigations. This undermines the principle of due process. A mere allegation could shutter an outlet, crippling its operations regardless of whether wrongdoing is ultimately proven. In effect, regulation becomes censorship by proxy.

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A history of fragile press freedom

TO UNDERSTAND the gravity of this bill, one must place it in historical context. Press freedom in the Maldives has long been fragile. Under president Maumoon Abdul Gayoom (1978–2008), censorship was rampant, with only a handful of state-aligned outlets permitted to operate. Journalists faced harassment, imprisonment, and exile.

The democratic transition of 2008, with Mohamed Nasheed’s election, briefly opened space for independent media. New outlets emerged, investigative journalism flourished, and citizens experienced freer access to information. Yet these gains were short-lived. The ouster of Nasheed in 2012 and the presidency of Abdulla Yameen (2013–2018) ushered in a crackdown. Journalists were assaulted, the country’s only newspaper with an opposition tilt was pressured, and the death of blogger Yameen Rasheed in 2017 underscored the risks of dissent.

Since then, Maldives’ press has oscillated between fragile openness and creeping control. President Ibrahim Mohamed Solih (2018–2023) pledged reforms and passed a landmark right-to-information law, but implementation lagged. The return of an assertive executive under president Mohamed Muizzu has reignited fears of institutionalised repression. The new bill crystallises those fears into law.

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Implications for democracy, public interest, and free expression

THE consequences of this bill are not confined to journalists. They ripple across the Maldives’ entire democratic fabric. First, the bill weakens the media’s role as a watchdog. Independent journalism has historically been critical in exposing corruption, from shady infrastructure deals to tourism sector mismanagement. Curtailing the press reduces the incentive for government officials and businesses to act transparently.

Second, the bill entrenches self-censorship. Journalists, fearing fines or closure, are more likely to avoid politically sensitive stories, leaving citizens uninformed about issues of public interest.

Third, the bill undermines Maldives’ international credibility. As a small island nation heavily dependent on tourism, Maldives sells itself to the world as a safe, open, democratic destination. Attacks on press freedom contradict that narrative, potentially discouraging investment and inviting international criticism.

Fourth, the bill damages pluralism. By excluding younger outlets, it stifles the diversity of voices, perspectives, and languages that make up the country’s vibrant media landscape. For young Maldivians, particularly those accessing news online, this means fewer independent sources of information and a narrowing of democratic space.

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Comparative regional lessons

MALDIVES is not alone in this trend. Across South Asia, governments have sought to muzzle the press under the guise of regulation. In Sri Lanka, the government has used the Prevention of Terrorism Act to target journalists. In Bangladesh, the Digital Security Act has been widely criticised for criminalising online expression. In India, the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party has applied financial and legal pressure on independent media houses.

These cases demonstrate how authoritarian control often begins with regulatory restructuring. By couching restrictions in the language of accountability and professional standards, governments can justify repression as reform. Maldives’ bill fits neatly into this regional pattern, signalling a worrying alignment with illiberal governance models rather than democratic norms.

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Defending media freedom: what must be done

THE first line of defence must come from within. Journalists, editors, and civil society must continue to speak out against the bill. The Maldives Journalists Association has already issued strong statements condemning the proposal and calling for its withdrawal. Public protests, open letters, and petitions help maintain visibility and mobilise citizens.

Elements of the bill are ripe for constitutional challenge. Retroactive punishment violates basic legal principles, while suspension without due process undermines constitutional protections for free expression. The judiciary must act independently and decisively to defend those rights.

Global pressure matters. The European Union, United Nations, and Commonwealth have long supported Maldives’ democratic transition. They must now remind the government that continued repression jeopardises international partnerships. Targeted diplomatic pressure — such as linking aid or cooperation to human rights standards — can raise the political cost of passing such a bill.

International journalist organisations, including CPJ and IFJ, should continue to highlight Maldives’ case as emblematic of the global struggle for press freedom in small states.

Importantly, Maldives does need strong media regulation. Fake news, disinformation, and online harassment are real challenges. But regulation should be independent, transparent, and protective of rights. Instead of creating an executive-controlled body, Maldives could strengthen self-regulation, encourage peer review, and invest in media literacy campaigns. These measures address legitimate concerns without eroding freedom.

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A broader democratic test

THE media control bill is not just about journalism; it is about the direction of Maldivian democracy itself. In a region marked by democratic backsliding, Maldives risks joining the ranks of countries where civic space is shrinking, dissent is stifled, and authoritarian tendencies grow unchecked.

The irony is stark: Maldives, whose survival depends on international goodwill to tackle climate change and support sustainable tourism, is undermining its own democratic reputation. Investors, tourists, and partners are unlikely to trust a country that silences its own citizens.

The proposed Maldives Media and Broadcasting Regulation Bill represents a serious threat to media freedom and democratic norms. Its structure gives excessive control to the executive, imposes vague sanctions, and threatens to silence dissent.

Media regulation is legitimate and sometimes necessary, but it must be independent, transparent, and rights-protective. This bill is none of those things. It is a thinly veiled attempt at consolidating executive control, reducing pluralism, and weakening accountability.

Press freedom is not a luxury. It is the foundation of democratic accountability, economic credibility, and social trust. Maldivians deserve more than a silenced press — they deserve a media that speaks truth to power, without fear of penalty or closure.

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ÌýMusharraf Tansen is a doctoral researcher at the University of Dhaka.