Media in Pakistan: Between Openness and Control

Media in Pakistan presents a puzzle that has occupied researchers and diplomats for two decades: how can a country host one of South Asia’s most outspoken press corps and still rank near the bottom of every press freedom index? The broadcast boom of the 2000s turned two or three state-run channels into more than fifty private ones within eight years, yet the habits of control that shaped the sector since 1947 never disappeared. They adapted.

A detailed 2010 study of media and governance in Pakistan, carried out for the European Commission by Dutch and Pakistani researchers, remains one of the most thorough accounts of that tension, and its central finding still holds. Pakistan’s press is loud, plural and commercially vigorous, yet enmeshed in a web of state pressure, military influence, ownership interests and physical danger. That duality matters for anyone assessing governance, a theme explored in this journal’s state-society analysis of Pakistan.

How media in Pakistan outgrew the state

For most of its history, media in Pakistan meant newspapers plus a state broadcasting monopoly. That changed abruptly in 2002, when the Musharraf government licensed private broadcasters through the newly created Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority (PEMRA). The research documented what followed: from two or three state-run channels in 2000 to over fifty private channels by 2008, including roughly twenty dedicated news channels. Radio grew in parallel, passing a hundred stations by 2008, and television audiences rose from an estimated 63 million viewers in 2004 to 86 million in 2009, most of the growth coming from newly electrified rural areas.

The motive behind liberalisation was not liberal. Interviewees traced the decision to the 1999 Kargil War, when millions of Pakistanis tuned in to Indian satellite channels because state television stayed silent about military setbacks. The generals concluded they were losing a propaganda contest and calculated that a licensed private sector could be kept on a leash. That calculation proved only partly correct.

A press born political

The country’s oldest media houses were never neutral observers. The Jang Group (founded 1942), Dawn’s parent company (founded 1941 by Mohammad Ali Jinnah himself) and the Nawa-i-Waqt group (founded 1940) all emerged from the Muslim independence movement, with owners who were journalists and political actors at once. The research found that this founding alliance between editors and politicians hardened into something transactional: support for a patron, military or civilian, in exchange for advertising revenue, licences or personal benefit.

Since 2002, ownership has shifted toward business figures with no professional attachment to journalism. Interviewees argued that many channels were not viable as media businesses, existing mainly to give their owners political protection, tax advantages or status. Marketing departments, not editors, increasingly decided how much space a story received.

“Press freedom cannot be measured by the quantity of its outlets.” The study concluded that the proliferation of channels after 2002 proved nothing by itself about the degree of freedom in the system that hosted them.

The machinery of control

Every media law in Pakistan’s history, the researchers noted, was promulgated under military rule; none was debated in parliament. The toolkit was broad: colonial-era press laws, outright takeovers such as the seizure of Progressive Papers Limited in 1959 and the Associated Press of Pakistan news agency in 1961, newsprint quotas, a “press advice” system that told editors what not to print, cash prizes for compliant writers, and the discriminatory allocation of government advertising. In Punjab alone, 31 newspapers were banned in the country’s first seven years.

Advertising is the subtlest lever. The state held roughly a quarter of the regional press advertising market, a budget of about US$20 million a year at the time of the research, and withdrawing it could quietly bankrupt an “erring” newspaper without a single arrest. The army, with its extensive business holdings, wielded comparable commercial weight. Alongside these pressures ran a documented system of paid loyalties, with journalists allegedly listed on intelligence agency payrolls.

Anyone analysing media freedom in Pakistan, the study observed, faces “the almost impossible task of discerning whether a particular position taken in a newspaper or TV talk show has been determined by this hidden network of informal alliances and patronage systems or is the genuine result of intellectual and media independence.”

Two tests: the lawyers’ movement and Swat

Two episodes showed what the enlarged media in Pakistan could do. When Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry was sacked in March 2007, live television coverage of the lawyers’ protests turned a legal dispute into a national movement and helped push Musharraf from power. The government’s response was instructive: a June 2007 PEMRA amendment banned live coverage of rallies, and during the November 2007 emergency private news channels were simply taken off air. Street protests by journalists forced a partial retreat.

The April 2009 Swat offensive showed the reverse dynamic. After years of press sympathy or ambiguity toward the Taliban, a video showing militants flogging a young girl produced a united media front behind military action. The state worked hard for that outcome, running daily briefings and a messaging campaign across some fifty channels, while PEMRA issued 64 notifications prohibiting coverage of banned organisations. Researchers cautioned that the shift reflected an orchestrated campaign as much as an editorial awakening, a distinction familiar from work on mediation and dialogue, where genuine change of position and tactical alignment are easily confused.

The price of reporting

For journalists, the story of media in Pakistan is also brutally physical. The study recorded more than 45 journalists killed in the decade before 2010, few of the cases ever investigated. In a single year, from May 2008 to May 2009, monitoring by the Pakistani organisation Intermedia counted 15 journalists killed, 61 injured and 35 abducted or arrested. Job insecurity compounded the danger: an estimated 85 percent of journalists worked without contracts, an arrangement that invited corruption by design. Pakistan ranked 159th of 175 countries in the 2009 Reporters Without Borders press freedom index.

The pattern has proved durable. The Committee to Protect Journalists continues to document killings, abductions and legal harassment of Pakistani reporters, and Human Rights Watch has repeatedly criticised the use of sedition and cybercrime provisions against critical voices. Impunity, not violence alone, is the defining feature.

From PEMRA to PECA: control goes digital

The 2010 research already flagged the internet as the sector to watch, noting an estimated three to five million users in 2007 and a court-ordered Facebook block in May 2010. That small market has since become one of the world’s largest online populations, and regulation of media in Pakistan has followed its audience onto the web. The Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (PECA) of 2016 gave authorities broad powers over online speech, and amendments passed in January 2025 went further, creating a new social media regulatory authority and introducing prison terms for spreading what officials deem false information. Journalist bodies protested that the amendments recreate, for the digital sphere, the press advice system of the 1960s. Reporters Without Borders keeps Pakistan in the lower reaches of its World Press Freedom Index, citing exactly this combination of legal pressure and violence.

The study’s conclusion therefore reads as a warning heard and not heeded. A media sector can multiply its outlets tenfold while the underlying bargain between press and power stays intact. For the EU and other outside actors, whose engagement is examined in this journal’s coverage of EU conflict prevention policy, the recommendations remain pertinent: invest in journalist safety, engage the Urdu-language press rather than only the English elite titles, and treat education as the foundation of an informed public. Further country studies are collected in the analysis section.

Frequently asked questions

Why did media in Pakistan expand so quickly after 2002?

The Musharraf government licensed private broadcasters through PEMRA from 2002, ending the state monopoly. Researchers link the decision to the 1999 Kargil War, when Pakistani audiences turned to Indian satellite channels for war news that state television withheld. The result was growth from two or three state channels in 2000 to more than fifty private channels by 2008.

What is PEMRA and what does it do?

The Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority, formalised in 2002, issues television and radio licences, enforces content rules and can suspend channels. Practitioners interviewed in the 2010 governance study described it as a licence-issuing office controlled by the federal bureaucracy, its powers expanded by decree, notably through 2007 amendments banning criticism of state institutions.

Who owns Pakistan’s main media groups?

The three oldest groups grew out of the independence movement: the Jang Group (Daily Jang, The News, Geo TV), the Dawn Group founded by Mohammad Ali Jinnah in 1941, and the conservative Nawa-i-Waqt group. Newer entrants such as the Express Group belong to business families whose primary interests lie outside journalism.

How do Urdu-language and English-language media differ?

English-language outlets such as Dawn reach the urban elite and policymakers and are seen as more professional, liberal and investigative. Urdu-language media reaches the mass audience and has historically been more conservative and sensationalist. The 2010 study stressed that the battle over public opinion is fought in Urdu and urged international actors to engage Urdu media directly.

How has the military influenced media in Pakistan?

Every media law in the country’s history was promulgated under military rule, never debated in parliament. Documented instruments include takeovers of publishing houses, censorship and press advice, discriminatory advertising allocation, briefings through the ISPR media wing, and paid recruitment of journalists. Decades of official narrative were also internalised by newsrooms and reproduced without direct orders.

What was the lawyers’ movement?

It was the protest campaign that followed President Musharraf’s sacking of Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry in March 2007. Live television coverage gave the lawyers’ demand for judicial independence national visibility, contributed to Musharraf’s fall and the February 2008 elections, and is regarded as the moment Pakistan’s media discovered its political power.

How dangerous is journalism in Pakistan?

Extremely. Research covering the decade before 2010 recorded more than 45 journalists killed, and monitoring for May 2008 to May 2009 counted 15 killed, 61 injured and 35 abducted or arrested. Prosecutions remain rare, and reporters in the former tribal areas and Balochistan face pressure from militants and security agencies alike.

What role does government advertising play in press control?

A large one. The state held roughly a quarter of the regional press advertising market, worth about US$20 million a year at the time of the research, and authorities have withdrawn advertising to punish critical outlets. Because margins are thin, that threat works as censorship without any formal legal action.

What is PECA?

The Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act, passed in 2016, is Pakistan’s main cybercrime law and the principal legal instrument used against online journalism and dissent. Amendments adopted in January 2025 created a new social media regulatory authority and introduced prison terms for disseminating information officials classify as false.

Where does Pakistan rank on press freedom?

Consistently near the bottom. Pakistan ranked 159th of 175 states in the 2009 Reporters Without Borders index and has stayed in the lower reaches of the World Press Freedom Index since, reflecting violence with near-total impunity, restrictive legislation, economic pressure through advertising, and informal military influence over editorial decisions.

Did the 2009 Swat offensive change media coverage?

It marked a visible turning point. Before April 2009, much of the press opposed action against the Pakistani Taliban or treated their demands sympathetically. Outrage over a video of militants flogging a girl, plus an intensive government information campaign, produced a united media front, though researchers saw no structural change in editorial attitudes.

What would strengthen independent media in Pakistan?

The research pointed to four priorities: guarantee journalist safety through training and genuine investigation of attacks; enforce wage awards so reporters are not driven toward paid patronage; expand education, since low literacy caps quality print journalism; and engage the Urdu-language press. These reforms connect to wider questions of peace and development.