Recently, a senior minister from Madhya Pradesh issued an apology. To a certain extent, this apology is significant and should be welcomed. Elected leaders are servants of the people, and journalists serve as the voice of the public. Asking questions is not only their right but also their duty. The day questions are silenced is the day the voice of the people is silenced. If journalists stop speaking, who will speak for the public?
A journalist is not an adversary. He represents the truth, the concerns of the people, and the very essence of democracy. Journalism is often called the fourth pillar of democracy—not as a metaphor, but as a responsibility. Democracy survives only when those in power are questioned, and real strength lies in leadership that listens and responds with dignity.
When people in Indore fell ill and lost their lives, including young children, due to contaminated drinking water, journalist Anurag Dwari asked the same questions every citizen was asking: How did this tragedy occur? Who is responsible? And what steps will be taken to ensure it never happens again? He neither behaved disrespectfully nor made personal accusations. He merely echoed the concerns of the people. However, the response he received—marked by harsh words and arrogance—was deeply hurtful, not just to him but to the entire journalistic fraternity.
Those remarks, captured on camera, quickly spread across the country and sparked widespread outrage. I, too, felt anger upon hearing them. This was especially painful because I have known Kailash Vijayvargiya as a thoughtful and sensible leader. Journalism runs deep in my family. I have witnessed generations of journalists—Lala ji, Ramesh ji, and Ashwini ji—asking tough, honest questions. Ashwini ji posed direct questions to leaders like Atal ji, Advani ji, and Modi ji, yet never received a disrespectful response. He even questioned the Prime Minister of Pakistan with the same courage, a moment still remembered today. Rajiv Shukla often recalls that incident whenever we meet.
The minister’s language and conduct were taken seriously by the national media. Newspapers, television channels, and digital platforms openly expressed their disapproval. Eventually, the minister apologized to the media, which I believe was the right step. If a mistake was made in anger or haste, an apology is justified. An error corrected promptly does not leave a lasting stain. However, what matters more than an apology is future restraint, respect, and accountability.
Journalists, too, are not infallible. When mistakes occur, corrections are published, and apologies are issued if incorrect information is reported. In that context, the minister’s acceptance of his mistake and his apology are commendable. It should serve as a reminder to all leaders that they are public servants and must set an example through their conduct. Insulting journalists or the public is unacceptable. When a journalist works with honesty and integrity, the entire nation stands with them. I salute that journalist.
The most pressing concern now is the situation in Madhya Pradesh, where contaminated drinking water has caused widespread illness and claimed lives, including those of children. Anyone witnessing such suffering would naturally feel anger and grief. This is the moment for leadership to act decisively—to address the crisis, prevent further loss of life, and ensure accountability. That would be the truest form of apology—one that brings justice not only to the journalist but also to the people and the entire media fraternity.
