On the third of May, the day meant to honor press freedom, Reporters Without Borders released its annual index report. Kosovo was ranked 99th. It is the lowest position in the Western Balkans, and the lowest Kosovo has held since 2016. The last time Kosovo stood this low in the index report was in 2016, ranked 90th, and before that, in 2010, 92nd. In a region not exactly known for its media utopias, Kosovo has managed to surpass the worst. In just two years, the country has fallen 43 places, from 56th to 99th. This kind of drop does not happen by accident. Some might call it a temporary fluctuation, but it isn’t. It is a symptom of decay, the kind that comes when power grows too comfortable.
The report listed several reasons for Kosovo’s decline in ranking; journalists targeted by smear campaigns, the government’s open boycott of several private media outlets during the 2025 national election, and the adoption of the July 11, 2024 law that placed the Independent Media Commission under tighter government control. The Association of Journalists of Kosovo (AJK) described the vote as one of the gravest attacks on media freedom, an attempt not to engage with the media, but to discipline it. There has never before been a reported case in which the government attempted, in such a covert manner, to institutionalize control through the adoption of a law that was later ruled unconstitutional.
Several international organizations echoed similar concerns. In a statement, the OSCE Mission in Kosovo confirmed that recommendations from the Council of Europe and the European Union were not reflected in the final version of the adopted law. Yet, while international organizations and civil society sounded alarmed, Prime Minister Kurti chose instead to blame journalists. “This decline does not reflect our reality,” the Prime Minister said, “the media themselves need to address this discrepancy.” It was a statement that revealed exactly why Kosovo’s press freedom has collapsed, a petty response bordering on authoritarian theater.
Following widespread criticism of the Independent Media Commission law adoption, the AJK submitted formal comments to the Constitutional Court, challenging several of its provisions. In April 2025, the Court annulled the Law on the Independent Media Commission, ruling that multiple articles violated the Constitution, a decision welcomed by the AJK as a small but vital victory for media freedom in Kosovo. The U.S. Department of State’s Country Report on Human Rights Practices also acknowledged the deteriorating situation. The report cited the concerns raised by the Association of Journalists of Kosovo (AJK), noting digital smear campaigns, pressure from politicians and a climate of fear that has led to self-censorship and a decline in critical investigative reporting. Similar concerns were echoed by the State Department regarding the Law on the Independent Media Commission (IMC).
One of the main arguments the ruling party uses to justify its “discipline” over the media is the claim of “fake news” and “hidden agendas.” In Kosovo, this argument has become a political instrument, used to boycott private media accused of serving a “Serbian narrative.” The acting government boycotts them when criticism hits too close, yet the same politicians return to those very media outlets when they need visibility. The weaponization of “fake news” has turned into a mechanism of control, where criticism is dismissed as fabrication. The acting government wields private media as a multi-functional tool: a convenient scapegoat during times of critique, and an ally of the state whenever it needs additional media bandwidth. Is there any editorial bias within the private media in Kosovo? Certainly. Bias exists, and it costs them credibility. But when the state adds political pressure on top of that, it turns an ethical issue into a fundamental threat. You don’t fix bias by adding censorship and control. The moment those in power decide what’s “fake,” it stops being about truth and becomes about control. Once that rhetoric filters into everyday speech, we end up repeating authoritarian talking points without even realizing it.
When faced with a situation where media pluralism – once among the key achievements and defining values that distinguished Kosovo from the rest of the Western Balkans – has become threatened, and where attacking the media has turned into a norm, the risk to free journalism feels alarmingly real, especially so when journalists themselves feel directly threatened. During a public TV appearance, Xhemjal Rexha, the chairperson of the Association of Journalists of Kosovo (AJK), recalled speaking about the Reporters Without Borders findings on May 2nd and 3rd. He noted that “he had never faced more threats in his twenty years of experience as a journalist.” “Not insults,” he emphasized, “death threats.” According to Mr. Rexha, the attacks were coming from the two main propaganda sites which are known as supporters of the ruling party, Self-Determination Movement (Vetëvendosje). Mr. Rexha claimed that some of his statements and reports were manipulated and stripped of their meaning.
I fear we have reached a time when those who still defend media freedom will be cast as heroes. Freedom of speech is supposed to be a baseline, not a benchmark for bravery. When exercising it becomes an act of bravery, you know you are living in a censored society. In a healthy system, journalism is a profession, not an act of heroism. And when courage replaces normalcy, you know the system has failed. Media freedom in Kosovo was never idyllic. Problems were inevitable, and issues needed to be addressed; however, a drop of 43 places in two years is not just statistical noise, it’s a warning sign. It’s hard to ignore the numbers when they are, quite simply, screaming censorship and authoritarian tendencies.
But how will we recognize, before the situation turns hostile and before it is too late, that fear and control have replaced information? Freedom of the media is not a concession granted by authority, but a prerequisite for the discovery of information itself. Free flow of information is essential. We cannot let fear seep into every newsroom, nor let silence seem like the safer choice, because when that happens, it will already be too late.
On the 20th of August, immediately after the failure to constitute the Parliament, a media conference was held. The acting Minister of Finance, Hekuran Murati, was the representative of the acting government giving statements from the Parliament building. During one of the questions, which visibly troubled him, he refused to answer. “You are acting as if you are from the opposition,” he told the journalist. “You are trying to make a debate here”, continued the acting minister, while ignoring the question. The journalist had simply asked whether his party, Vetëvendosje, felt accountable for nominating the same candidate more than fifty times for the position of Speaker of Parliament, each attempt unsuccessful. The journalist insisted again. He dodged her again. She insisted, reminding him that this was a matter of accountability. “I am a citizen,” she said. It was a small statement, almost too simple, but in that moment it carried the weight of something larger, the insistence that holding power to account is itself an act of citizenship. The acting minister cut her off: “You are not a citizen. You are a journalist.” “Which media do you represent?” he continued. The question itself remained unanswered.
By now, refusing to answer journalists has become part of the ritual. What was telling was not his refusal to engage, but the language he chose. Did the minister dismiss the question because it came from legitimate civic concern or because it came from a journalist? Judging by his reaction, the latter seems more likely. The phrase “You are not a citizen, you are a journalist” reveals a deeper fault line, one where language reveals how power really thinks. He spoke as though citizenship were a status revoked the moment one asks for accountability. The implication was clear: there are those who speak, and those who are spoken to. The fact that media in Kosovo are under pressure from the ruling party is hardly a revelation, and a report by the International Crisis Groupsimply confirms what has long been observed by anyone who has been paying attention. The report adds further details: journalists at the state broadcaster, Radio Television Kosovo, face intense political pressure, with job dismissals and unpaid salaries highlighting the additional challenges to media freedom.
When questioning power becomes an act reserved for “citizens only” and used as a form to discredit or intimidate journalists, the line between democracy and authoritarianism becomes semantic. When a journalist is punished for doing their job, it is not an attack on a profession only, it is an attack on freedom itself. Often, a state that fears journalists’ questions is the one most in need of them. When the media is intimidated, the channels through which citizens can access information and hold government accountable are blocked. Abuses remain unchallenged, injustices go unaddressed, and there is perhaps nothing more threatening to democracy than a system where politics dictates information instead of information guiding politics.