Last Updated on October 7, 2013
As an associate member of PEN, I take an avid interest in its efforts toward protecting free expression. Freeing imprisoned writers and preventing the execution of reporters, editors and publishers by totalitarian states is something we journalists and bloggers can easily support.
But as I read the accounts of clampdowns on free speech by states like China, Turkey and Ethiopia, I am reminded of forays into the field of censorship by more benign states like Mexico and the United States. While Mexico lacks official restraints on free speech, it is not uncommon for investigative reporters there to be found murdered; in the US, the totalitarian market keeps free speech at bay by policing the newsroom as well as the streets.
For Indigenous peoples engaged in the resurgent liberation movement around the world, free expression is even less free than for mainstream media. Having had their wealth plundered first by state colonialism, and later by market globalization, their capacity to adequately express themselves in the age of mass communication has been severely hampered.
While nascent Indigenous media has managed to secure a presence online, and to a lesser degree on film, Indigenous broadcast news and radio is nearly non-existent. Despite their struggles making their way into mainstream media on all continents, depictions of what these conflicts are really all about is rarely representative of reality.
Until Indigenous enterprises and philanthropies invest in Indigenous radio, TV and investigative news magazines, Wall Street and Madison Avenue will continue to control the spin on Indigenous resistance. When sites like Intercontinental Cry struggle just to pay for the bandwidth to maintain an online presence, free expression for the world indigenous movement remains a distant dream.
Across the world right now, Indigenous peoples are facing a renewed assault on their lands, rights, and ways of life.
From extractive industries pushing deeper into ancestral territories, to governments rolling back hard-won protections,
the threat is global—and it is growing.
What makes this moment especially dangerous is how little attention it receives.
Stories like this are disappearing in real time. Mainstream media
barely covers it and the coverage is fragmented. The public is left without the context
needed to understand what is truly at stake.
That is exactly why IC Magazine exists..
For more than 20 years, IC has reported on Indigenous struggles worldwide — consistently, independently, and without compromise.
We don’t follow news cycles; we trace patterns. We don’t sensationalize; we provide context.
And when the world looks away, we stay focused.
But this work is increasingly difficult to sustain.
We refuse to lock our reporting behind a paywall. We don’t sell access through subscriptions.
And we don’t answer to advertisers. IC Magazine survives solely because readers like you choose to
support independent Indigenous journalism.
Please donate today if you can. Every contribution helps us to continue this crucial work.
Thank you,
John Ahni Schertow
Founder and Editor in Chief
