Why women journalists cant log off?
A barrage of slurs floods the social media ugly, aunty, bimbo. Subha J Rao calls this a normal week on social media. After 28 years of working as a journalist, she has learned that she can never predict what will set people off. Recently, Subha noticed a surge of attacks on journalists who reviewed the Hindi film Dhurandhar . Journalist Anupama Chopras review was taken down. Another journalist Sucharita Tyagi faced relentless harassment for her views. And, for others, routine slurs escalated to death threats, with demands they leave the country a deluge of hatred simply for doing their job. It was just another day in the torrent of online attacks against journalists, particularly women. Across India, women journalists describe a similar pattern: abuse that begins online and spills into their personal life; hostility that scars mental health, shapes their daily routines, and professional choices; a constant calculation of risk. Identity as weapon For many women journalists, their identities become the criteria for the abuse. Mariam (name changed), a journalist in Tamil Nadu, intuitively knows when the attacks intensify. I see hate mails, slurs, name-calling and abuses only when I write stories featuring Dalits or highlight caste discrimination. They dont see a journalist, they see a Muslim propagandist, to the extent that Ive had readers call me terrorist, anti-national, jihadist, randi (prostitute). These labels have distorted how she views her own works. I have begun feeling like my stories are being conceived as a tool to fuel more Dalit hatred, instead of highlighting and uplifting their voice. Rachel Chitra, a journalist of more than two decades of experience, has had her share of religion-based abuses. Because Im a Christian, people call me rice bag convert. Writer and journalist Nisha Susan, recalls similar attacks from over a decade ago. Back in 2009-10, the accusations were bizarre. Someone said I was an agent of the Vatican; another said my real name was Mehrunisa. BH Harsh, a reporter at TNIE opines that the choice of language (against women journalists) is a lot more intense often used as sexual slurs, making them vicious. The attacks often extend beyond words. For Shivani Kava, senior reporter at The News Minute, reporting on the Dharmasthala case in Karnataka, made even her name a target. People asked me to change my name from Shivani because its a Shiva temple calling me a stain on Hindus. Someone created an AI-generated caricature of her profile picture added pimples, gave it bigger breasts, and cleavage. Though she reshared it online with defiance, the bravado masks deeper fears. These things get scary when youre reporting from your hometown. People know where your family lives. Nisha explains that people constantly assess your caste, religion, and region, online and offline. She says, If you are not Savarna and Hindu, things get harder. When the digital bleeds into reality The boundary between professional and personal life is collapsing. Shivani learned this on Church Street in Bengaluru. A man approached her complaining that she had reported on him. Shivani says, He was the creator of an Instagram account that posted non-consensual videos of women at Church Street. She walked away. And he screamed after her, What did I do wrong? After the incident, I removed most personal pictures from my feed. He followed me from two or three different accounts until I blocked him, says Shivani. This made her extra cautious even when she wasnt working. After that, I didnt go there for two or three weeks. I still wont go alone at night. Anushka (name changed), a photojournalist in Tamil Nadu, experienced a violation of consent from another part of the world. Three or four years ago, her Facebook Messenger suddenly filled with messages from Ethiopia. Around 50 people contacted her. They had taken one of my fieldwork pictures of me holding a lens and used it on an extremist page filled with guns. They described me as a revolutionary photojournalist in India, like what they were doing in Ethiopia. It felt strange. The hierarchy of risk Journalists face abuse on different levels. There is a hierarchy of vulnerability that tracks language, caste, religion, and class. Anushka points out the language divide. Regional journalists get more online abuse, comparatively. They are easy targets. If someone working for a Tamil newspaper posts something controversial, the abuse is immediate. Independent journalist Greeshma Kuthar confirms this. For English-language journalists, most threats stay online. Regional journalists get direct threats. Many whove been attacked or killed were regional reporters. Were actually protected in comparison and also better paid. Age, too, determines vulnerability. Nisha observes, Younger women get the casual constant harassment far more. Criticise a movie star or politician in some states, and you have to prepare for backlash. The ubiquity of attack For Shivani, the first time she realised online abuse was becoming dangerous was during coverage of a communal incident in Udupi, where three Muslim students were suspended for filming a Hindu woman. One of the messages she received read, We will put cameras into your washroom and then you call it a prank. The requirement of a journalist to widen their online presence can also make their escape almost impossible. Shivani states, The marketing of our stories happens on social media. For independent journalists like Greeshma, theres no choice at all. Im only on X (Formerly called Twitter) and Instagram because I have to be. As an independent journalist, thats the only way to get your work out. Real life experiences can't lie Kunal, Asia Pacific Programme Coordinator at the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ, has documented cases that reveal a darker picture. Unfortunately, nine out of 10 journalists targeted online in India are women. He describes, highlighting high-profile examples, Neha Dixit was stalked by someone who kept calling and describing her whereabouts. Rana Ayyubs face was morphed into pornographic content. Then there are organised campaigns. Weve seen everything from the awful Sulli Deals and Bulli Bai auctions, where photographs of Muslim women journalists, historians, others were posted online for bidding, to regional trolling patterns even in Kerala and Tamil Nadu where sexual innuendo and character assassination are common, Kunal notes. Even in a state like Kerala that is known for its highest literacy rate, women journalists told Kunal that they have faced attacks from political actors across ideologies, as well as from fans. He observes, They are frequently targeted through online posts with deep sexual undertones, which are used to tarnish journalists credibility and as a form of psychological warfare. Data shows that harassment of women journalists in India is a deeply systemic problem and is ideologically agnostic. IT wings of all political parties behave the same way, adds Greeshma. She says, Theyre henchmen waiting to attack anyone critical of their party. Theres no difference between them. The institutional void When facing this onslaught, women journalists should be able to turn to their pillars of support the newsrooms, the police, and journalism collectives. Some journalists acknowledge genuine support from institutions. Shivanis experience at her newsroom reveals what proactive newsroom support looks like. When any of us is targeted, our editor personally calls and even advises us to take a break from social media for a week. Its important to have women in managerial positions. While these are exceptional cases, Nisha identifies the structural problem. A very few media workers are actual employees with rights. Most are contract labourers. If something happens, a threat, a lawsuit, a trolling campaign, the organisation has no obligation to support you. Perhaps most disappointing, Greeshma says, is the response or lack of it from organisations meant to represent journalists interests. During the reporting of the Manipur violence, many of us, mostly women, were targeted viciously. None of the press unions said a word. She describes a selective outrage by these institutions. They issue statements depending on where the violence is happening, its posturing, she says. If women journalists are facing a clear, documented pattern of abuse, shouldnt these bodies push back? Lobby with X or the government? News organisations just tell journalists not to post or not to engage. Nobody is making the space safer. That silence, she shares, reinforces isolation. When Rachels harassment escalated to rape threats and the leaking of her mobile number and location, her organisation recommended she speak to the police. The police told me, Just block all the accounts. They didnt file an FIR just a CSR (Community Service Register) and nothing happened. Thats when I realised the police are going to be of no help. Filing complaints itself is a tedious process for many. Shivani points out the loopholes, In the Church Street case, the man was arrested earlier but still returned to the exact same spot after getting bail. Social media platforms have become the greatest institutional failure. Rachel experienced the platform hierarchy herself. When a friend in Manipur received death threats, they both reported it to Facebook. Nothing happened for 24 hours. Only when I messaged Facebooks India head did the posts get taken down. These platforms thrive on engagement. The reckoning needed Kunal identifies where intervention is needed, starting with newsrooms themselves. Newsrooms must be proactive, not reactive. Safety protocols dont have to be expensive. Journalists covering riots should not be sent alone, especially if they belong to the religious community being targeted. The first person a journalist calls when in danger is their editor. If editors arent serious about safety, blaming the statealone wont solve anything. The government must act, he argues not as a favour but as democratic necessity. The pattern of online abuse, Kunal notes, is not unique to India, but it takes a particular form here. In Bangladesh, journalists are targeted along clear lines of political polarisation. In Nepal, retaliation follows corruption reporting, often cutting across party lines. In Sri Lanka, ethnic identity shapes who is attacked and when. In India, however, journalists are frequently targeted simply for reporting critically about those in power, whether at the Centre or in the states or locally and women are disproportionately exposed to this risk. Women continue to report not because the system protects them, but because they believe the work matters. When a society relies on bravery instead of protection, it signals not strength, but neglect. (The author is a Laadli Media Fellow. The opinions and views expressed are those of the author. Laadli and UNFPA do not necessarily endorse the views.)