This year’s World Press Freedom Day on May 3 focuses on artificial intelligence, widely seen as a looming threat to the future of journalism. Yet, recent shifts in U.S. foreign aid policy may pose an even greater danger—particularly for journalists in least developed countries like Cambodia. The abrupt withdrawal of funding has left them more vulnerable than ever, especially as many lack the resources and skills needed to sustain independent reporting without external support.

Following President Donald Trump’s decision to suspend USAID funding for 90 days in February, media organizations worldwide have scrambled to assess the fallout. Independent outlets have been forced to make painful decisions—laying off staff, terminating projects, and urgently seeking alternative sources of funding. The longstanding U.S. commitment to supporting press freedom and democratic media is now in question.

Cambodia, a fragile democracy and a least developed country, finds itself at a tipping point. Civil society groups and media institutions are reeling from the funding freeze. But the consequences here may be more than just temporary disruption—they signal a deeper crisis, threatening the very survival of independent journalism.

Plans for new media initiatives have already been derailed. Cambodia was slated to receive $7 million in USAID funding for media development, but that promise vanished with the stroke of a pen.

Organizations devoted to defending press freedom and media rights now face severe financial strain. Dependent on foreign aid, many are struggling to stay afloat. Journalists who had pinned hopes on new projects are not only disappointed—they’re unemployed, forced to rethink their futures.

The crisis affects not only domestic reporters but also exiled and diaspora media. U.S.-funded Radio Free Asia, which shut its Phnom Penh bureau in 2017, and independent outlets like the Cambodia Daily and Voice of Democracy—renowned for hard-hitting political reporting—are also facing financial uncertainty.

These media platforms have been vital in offering independent perspectives and challenging government narratives. But like their local counterparts, they too are grappling with a dire funding shortfall—raising urgent questions about the future of journalism in Cambodia and beyond.

Undoubtedly, Trump’s funding freeze and chaotic efforts against free media also create a breeding ground for aiding autocratic leaders worldwide as they seek to suppress independent media and silence critical voices.

Ironically, in Cambodia, this move was seen as a blessing. Former Prime Minister Hun Sen was among the few world leaders to openly applaud Trump’s decision to halt funding for U.S.-backed broadcasters like VOA and RFA—outlets he has repeatedly accused of spreading falsehoods. Alarmingly, Hun Sen framed their shutdown as a necessary step toward eliminating what he labeled as fake news, disinformation, incitement, and global chaos.

Cambodia’s press freedom was already seriously dwindled even before Trump’s aid pause, as professional journalists increasingly found it difficult to perform their duties.  According to Reporters Without Borders’ 2024 World Press Freedom Index, Cambodia is ranked 151st among 180 countries, categorizing it as a nation with grave threats to press freedom.

For many years, the Cambodian government has been accused of cracking down on independent media and stifling freedom of expression. Alongside the forced shutdown of media outlets like the Cambodia Daily in 2017 and Voice of Democracy, which had its broadcasting license revoked in 2023, journalists face legal threats and potential arrests.

Foreign correspondents, too, risk expulsion if their work probes too deeply.

A perfect example of this could be the high-profile case that involved the jailing of award-winning journalist Mech Dara, who extensively covered scam-related issues. Dara was charged with incitement but was released on bail in October 2024, before announcing that he had quit his profession a month later.

His time in jail and the charges may have caused him enough trauma, deterring him from pursuing his career; his leaving means more than losing a journalist. It presents a significant loss for journalism.   Meanwhile, the government also permanently banned British journalist Gerald Flynn, known for his investigative reporting in Cambodia on sensitive topics such as environmental degradation and natural resource management.

Despite the optimism surrounding Prime Minister Hun Manet, who took office following a landslide election in 2023 that lacked credible opposition, skepticism remains. Even though he advocates for press freedoms and underscores the necessity of “a strong, responsible and honest media industry, along with journalists who dare speak the truth and provide constructive criticism,” his vision has not materialized. These actions reveal a stark contradiction, as the press is denied the very space it needs to carry out its essential role.

While political repression and constraints on dissent are nothing new—media control has long served as a tool to enforce social order—what’s shifting is the growing impossibility for journalists to engage meaningfully with government officials or ask critical questions. What was once difficult is now becoming nearly impossible.

The absence of access-to-information laws gives officials a convenient shield to avoid scrutiny or selectively choose which journalists they engage with. At the same time, the government has pivoted sharply toward image management, using the pretext of combating fake news to justify vague and sweeping legal measures. These tactics have only deepened the climate of self-censorship and further discouraged critical reporting.

It is increasingly clear that there is little political will to uphold press freedom or the right to free expression. Rather than encouraging open dialogue or constructive criticism, the government appears intent on promoting a one-sided narrative that silences dissent.

Underlying issues exist within the journalism community

Cambodia’s journalism crisis goes beyond political suppression—it also stems from internal fractures that undermine the survival of professional journalism.

The journalism community itself is fragile and deeply fragmented. Journalists often view one another through lenses of mistrust and division, shaped by affiliation—whether with government-aligned media, private outlets, or foreign organizations. Rather than allies in a shared profession, they see rivals, caught in dynamics of superiority and inferiority over journalistic quality and commitment to democratic values.

In short, there is no unified identity or collective mission to defend the public interest—only a persistent “us versus them” mentality.

This division is worsened by the lack of strong, independent journalism organizations or unions that can nurture solidarity, professional development, and collective advocacy. While some journalism clubs and associations exist, few are truly impartial or inclusive. Access and opportunities often hinge on political or institutional alignment, further eroding unity.

These internal divisions have contributed to a sharp decline in public trust. Fragmentation and lack of self-regulation have created a complex, chaotic media environment—made worse during the COVID-19 pandemic, which accelerated mistrust and exposed lapses in ethics and professionalism.

Despite the existence of over 2,000 media outlets and more than 3,000 journalists, the overall quality of journalism remains deeply concerning. Many outlets operate without proper editorial standards or understanding of journalistic ethics, leading to violations of privacy, biased reporting, and even blackmail. Such misconduct tarnishes the reputation of the entire press community.

Whether acknowledged or not, the media must face the uncomfortable truth: part of the crisis lies within. To rebuild credibility and foster resilience, journalists must begin by addressing their own house—bridging divides, initiating honest dialogue, and working collaboratively toward shared professional standards and a collective mission. Only then can Cambodia’s media landscape begin to heal and move toward a stronger, more united future.

Does Cambodian journalism have a future?

In my current role, thinking about the next generation of journalists goes far beyond helping them adapt to the rapidly evolving media landscape or manage the stressful work pressures of the profession. It’s about building a system that truly supports and nurtures them—not just to sharpen their skills or earn a sustainable income, but to carry forward journalism with a clear sense of purpose and mission.

More and more, I’m asked by my young reporters: “Does journalism even have a future?” And more and more, I find myself at a loss for words. The question is no longer rhetorical. It reflects a deep uncertainty, not only in Cambodia but around the world.

I used to respond with unwavering optimism and sound reasoning. But today, I speak with hesitation. Not because I’ve stopped believing in journalism’s value—but because I fear we are watching it slowly wither in a world that no longer makes space for it. I don’t fear the profession becoming obsolete—I fear it being abandoned. I struggle to picture a society that functions without good journalism.

This is no longer a distant concern. The warning signs are already here: the rise of artificial intelligence, a lack of strategy for financial sustainability, and a steep decline in public trust. Hostility toward the media has become normalized.

Journalists are increasingly unsure whether their work is still valued—whether society still sees them as guardians of accountability and truth. Many are insulted, blamed, or dismissed. The erosion of journalism is not only driven by political pressure or wealthy elites seeking control. It is also fueled by a fractured and manipulated media ecosystem that has led the public itself to lose faith in the press.

As I write this, many of my peers struggle to find work. Despite their passion, they cannot sustain their livelihoods. Passion alone doesn’t pay the bills—and without income, even the most committed are forced to walk away.

This isn’t the journalism crisis we anticipated—but it’s the one that has arrived. And we weren’t prepared. Even collective resistance now feels insufficient against the magnitude of the challenge.

The loss of journalists may seem like a personnel issue. But the collapse of professional, independent journalism means triumph for propaganda and disinformation. The stakes are especially high in a country like Cambodia. Without a free press, the public sees only what the government allows—never what it hides.

We are not just losing jobs—we are losing the soul of journalism. And if we don't act now, we risk losing the very foundation that enables a free and informed society.

Development partners need to fill the gap, but the Cambodian press must take ownership

The declining role of journalism and press freedom in Cambodia warrants more than a mere wake-up call; the alarming trend of diminishing financial backing from key donors, like the U.S., highlights the frightening reality of a vanishing critical press—a scenario no society desires. In light of this, the media community must consider strategies to address daily challenges. While financial stability is crucial for independent journalism, it requires a long-term outlook, a clear growth strategy, and proactive collaboration and support from different stakeholders.

The current prevailing media model restricts journalism organizations, necessitating a collective re-strategizing effort. Cambodian media's reliance on foreign aid means more partners are needed to fill the gap left by the U.S. European nations and other supporters of press freedom should increase their assistance to strengthen the remaining media for a better, sustainable growth model.

Financial support is only the starting point. Real growth demands a strategic model and an enabling environment where journalists can innovate, build sustainable income streams, and reduce their dependence on aid. In today’s increasingly hostile climate, journalists must not only continue fulfilling their vital roles under pressure—they must also begin transitioning toward self-sufficiency, taking ownership of their future and building resilient operations.

Yet, even within this context of eroding media freedom, it is deeply disappointing to see development actors—foreign embassies and aid agencies among them—seeking media coverage without offering fair compensation. Their emphasis on publicity often eclipses the more urgent need to strengthen and empower local media. Few offer the resources or space for journalists to produce meaningful content independently and without fear of reprisal.

This is precisely why changes led by media outlets alone are not enough. In fragile, low-income countries like Cambodia, external stakeholders must share the responsibility. If press freedom and democratic accountability are to survive, development partners must go beyond rhetorical support. They should allocate budgets for paid media placement, provide targeted grants to struggling outlets, and facilitate collaborative frameworks that allow journalists to work freely and effectively in the public interest.

Supporting independent media is not a side issue—it is integral to any genuine effort to foster political and economic progress.

Many assert that the media should be free, impartial and independent. Yet few bother to figure out how newsrooms generate their income and how this can be sustained without financial stability and adequate funding. Many journalists pour their heart and soul into their work, frequently grappling with tight deadlines and financial constraints while navigating ethical dilemmas. Poorly paid and undervalued, journalists burn with passion to keep going, but nobody knows how long this can go on.

If the world wants press freedom to be healthy, all of this has to change.