COLUMN: The Dangerous Rise of Autocratic Power in Maldives

The new regime in Maldives has crossed a line that should alarm anyone who believes in democratic governance.

Two journalists have been jailed in connection with recent events involving President Mohamed Muizzu. One was sentenced to 15 days in prison after being removed from a presidential press conference for asking a question. Another has been sentenced to 10 days in prison for writing about a court-issued gag order.

Taken individually, these incidents might be dismissed as procedural or legal disputes. Taken together, they point to something far more troubling, a pattern in which journalism is being met not with rebuttal or transparency, but with punishment.

A functioning democracy depends on a simple but non-negotiable principle, those in power must be open to scrutiny. Questions asked in public are not acts of hostility, they are the foundation of accountability. When asking a question becomes grounds for removal from a state institution and potentially imprisonment, the boundary between democratic governance and authoritarian control fades.

What makes the current moment particularly concerning is not only the jailing of journalists, but the broader environment in which these events are unfolding. Court-issued gag orders limiting discussion of an alleged affair of the president revealed by a documentary called ‘Aisha’, and a growing pattern of legal action against journalists all contribute to a climate where reporting is becoming riskier by the day.

This is how democratic backsliding often looks in practice. It does not begin with the formal abolition of rights. It begins with their gradual narrowing, first through legal pressure, then institutional intimidation, and eventually through fear itself. The public may still have a constitutionally guaranteed free press, but in reality, fewer journalists feel safe enough to use it fully.

The Maldives has lived through similar cycles before. Under previous administrations, including the long authoritarian era of Maumoon Abdul Gayoom and the later consolidation of power under Abdullah Yameen, the country saw how quickly democratic institutions can be weakened when dissent is treated as disobedience. Courts, police, and regulatory systems meant to act as safeguards became, at various points in history, tools of control.

It is against that backdrop that the current developments are being interpreted by critics: not as isolated incidents, but as part of a familiar trajectory where executive power expands while civic space contracts.

Defenders of the government may argue that these are lawful actions, carried out independently by courts or institutions. But even if that is the case, the perception of justice matters as much as its procedural form. When journalists are repeatedly subjected to detention, legal threats, or exclusion for performing their basic duties, the message received by the public is unmistakable.

It is not just about two individuals. It is about what their treatment signals to everyone else in the profession and to society at large.

A government confident in its legitimacy does not need to silence questions. It answers them. It withstands scrutiny without resorting to force. When that confidence is replaced by control, the direction of travel becomes hard to ignore.