Reporters who have worked under Putin, Erdogan and the Taliban share what they have learned about how autocrats consolidate power and how communities can fight back against the erosion of democratic freedom
The numbers are stark and troubling. Today, 71 per cent of the world's population lives under autocratic rule—governments where power sits in the hands of just one person. A decade ago, that figure was 48 per cent. We're watching democracy retreat across the globe.
What's driving this shift? Economic inequality, the spread of false information, and the rise of populist leaders who know exactly which buttons to press. These factors feed off each other perfectly: loud politicians making bold promises whilst stoking social tensions to gain support.
Perhaps most worryingly, populist leaders seem to inspire copycats elsewhere. Even the United States, long seen as a beacon of democracy, is showing troubling signs of moving in an autocratic direction.
Kiran Nazish has seen this pattern play out firsthand across multiple countries. The journalist, who began her career in Pakistan, has spent two decades covering human rights abuses, terrorism, war and drug cartels for major news organisations including the New York Times, LA Times, and BBC.
Her work has taken her to Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Mexico—countries with vastly different political situations. Yet despite their unique circumstances, she's noticed one crucial similarity.
"Of all factors that underpin an autocracy, all of them are connected to community and people," Nazish explained, speaking at our Newsrewired conference (13 May 2025).
This insight led her to establish the Coalition for Women in Journalism in 2019, supporting female reporters in repressive regimes. The organisation's research reveals a disturbing trend: targeted attacks against women and LGBTQ+ journalists have risen by 200 per cent across 145 countries in just five years.
The strategy remains consistent: autocrats target communities that can be easily divided, isolated, and pitted against one another. They position themselves as the reasonable voice amidst the chaos—the only ones who can restore order.
Next, they go after public institutions: the courts, police, and eventually the media. But here's what many people don't realise: attacks on journalists usually come late in the process, not early.
Turkey offers a chilling example. The country transformed from a secular democracy with largely free and fair elections into an autocracy under Recep Tayyip Erdogan. This year alone, the mayor of Istanbul seen as a threat to Erdogan's presidency, was arrested, along with numerous journalists, including BBC staff.
"When the media starts getting targeted, that is a symptom that things are already so bad that these autocrats feel like there will be no accountability when they target journalists," Nazish explains.
"Rather than being one of the canaries in the coal mine - one of the first places targetted - an (autocratic) leader will only go for the media when they're pretty confident they've consolidated power," she says, having seen this play out in parts of South Asia and the Middle East. But it does depend on the political context of the country.
US-based Amie Ferris-Rotman, global news editor at New Lines Magazine, lived and worked in Russia in 2007. She watched censorship gradually become normalised under Vladimir Putin's rule.
"Some of it was self-censorship, which we just knew instinctively that certain things we weren't allowed to report on, the main one being Putin's personal life and his wealth," Ferris-Rotman says.
The crackdown intensified over time. The arrest of The Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich, who spent 16 months in prison on spying charges before being released in the biggest prisoner exchange since the Cold War, showed how far things had deteriorated.
Now, Ferris-Rotman is seeing "extremely scary" and "unprecedented" parallels in the United States under Donald Trump.
The administration has quickly cut funding for arts programmes, research centres, diversity initiatives, gender-affirming care and international media support. Trump, himself a populist leader, has repeatedly attacked the press, which was recently demonstrated when he kicked an AP reporter out of the White House.
The warning signs are there. The US has dropped two places in the World Press Freedom Index published by Reporters Without Borders, now ranking 57th globally. The report specifically notes that conditions have worsened since Trump's second term began.
Many publishers fear Trump could target critical press freedom protections, such as the landmark Sullivan vs New York Times ruling. This legal precedent requires public officials to prove "actual malice" in libel cases - a crucial safeguard for investigative journalism.
So what can be done when communities are under attack and news organisations operate with little accountability?
There's no magic solution, but everyone has a role to play.
"The number one thing that we need to do to work our way around the autocrat is to build trust through community," says Nazish. "All institutions in a democracy need to band together - we cannot afford to let public trust slip as a whole."
Even in the darkest moments, resistance persists. Ferris-Rotman, who sits on the board of Rukhshana Media, an Afghan news agency reporting anonymously under Taliban rule, points out that there are always small signs of hope if you look hard enough.
Sometimes, cracks in the system provide opportunities. As a commissioning editor, she's found that Italian journalists still maintain good access to Russia due to the continued diplomatic relations between the two countries.
The message is clear: whilst the global trend towards autocracy is deeply concerning, it's not unstoppable. Building trust, supporting independent journalism, and maintaining connections across borders all play a part in defending democracy. The question is whether we'll act quickly enough to reverse the tide.
