ASTANA — Every year on June 28, Kazakhstan marks the Day of Media Workers. The date commemorates the adoption of the country’s first Law on the Press and Other Mass Media in 1991, just months before Kazakhstan declared its independence. It is a fitting coincidence. Because the story of Kazakh journalism and the story of independent Kazakhstan have, in many ways, unfolded side by side.
Aida Haidar. Photo credit: personal archive
Over the years, journalism has taken me farther than I could have imagined. I have spoken with presidents, ministers, diplomats, futurists, entrepreneurs and billionaires. I have sat across from people shaping global conversations about technology, economics and politics. Yet some of the most memorable conversations happened far from conference halls and official meetings: in small villages near the Aral Sea, with teachers, fishermen, and ordinary families trying to build a future under difficult circumstances.
Those encounters taught me something important. Journalism is often perceived as a profession about events, institutions and power. In reality, it is a profession about people. The more stories you hear, the more you realize that statistics, policies and headlines only make sense when viewed through the lives of those they ultimately affect.
Thirty-five years may seem like a long time. Kazakhstan is internationally recognized, economically significant, and politically established. Yet in historical terms, ours remains a remarkably young state. Most of our population was born after independence. Many of today’s journalists have never known another Kazakhstan. We grew up together. Perhaps that is why journalism here has always occupied a unique place.
In mature democracies, the relationship between media and the state is often viewed through the lens of confrontation. In young states, the reality is more nuanced. Institutions are still evolving. Society is still defining itself. National identity continues to take shape. In this process, journalists often become something more than observers. They become translators. They help citizens understand government decisions, while helping the government understand citizens’ concerns, frustrations and aspirations. They connect worlds that too often speak different languages, even when they use the same words.
That role requires objectivity. But it also requires something less frequently discussed: a genuine commitment to the country itself. Not to a political party. Not to an individual official. Not even to a particular moment in history. To the country. To the belief that Kazakhstan can become stronger, more prosperous and more confident in its place in the world.
Over the years, Kazakh journalism has gone through many stages. For a long time, we looked outward, seeking models, narratives and validation elsewhere. Today, I increasingly sense a shift.
A generation of journalists has emerged that was raised in an independent Kazakhstan. They enter international forums, cover global events, interview world leaders and report from foreign capitals not as observers from the periphery but as professionals carrying their own perspectives and representing their own countries. That matters. I believe that a nation becomes truly independent not only when it controls its borders, economy or institutions. It becomes independent when it develops confidence in its own voice. Journalists help shape that voice.
At the same time, the relationship between the media and the state requires mutual understanding. Governments need information. Citizens need information. Both depend on trust. This is precisely why respect for journalistic independence is not a luxury. It is not a concession. It is not a favor granted to the media. It is a practical necessity. No government, regardless of its capabilities, can see everything. No institution can identify every problem before it emerges. Journalists often encounter concerns long before they appear in official reports. They hear frustrations before they become public discontent. They notice cracks before they become structural failures. Sometimes this means asking uncomfortable questions. Sometimes it means highlighting problems that would be easier to ignore. But that is not a threat to stability. When done responsibly, it is one of the mechanisms that help preserve stability.
The strongest societies are not those where problems remain hidden. They are those where problems can be discussed openly enough to be addressed before they become crises. For this reason, protecting the independence of journalists should not be viewed solely as a matter of professional rights. It is also a matter of national resilience. A journalist who can ask difficult questions without fear is not weakening the state. More often than not, that journalist is helping it see what it might otherwise miss.
Yet independence also brings responsibility. Words have consequences. Headlines travel. Narratives shape perceptions. Journalists do not simply record reality: they influence how reality is understood.
That responsibility requires professionalism, restraint and perspective. Perhaps even a form of patriotism. Not the loud kind that seeks applause. But the quieter kind that recognizes that every story becomes part of a country’s collective memory.
For me personally, journalism has always been something else as well — a refuge. Life is often unpredictable. The older I become, the more convinced I am that there is far less order in the world than we would like to believe. There is uncertainty, loss, disappointment and often no clear explanation for why things happen. There is no universal formula. No guaranteed sequence of causes and effects. Much of life is simply learning to navigate uncertainty. Journalism does not eliminate that chaos. It helps us witness it. It allows us to document human experience in all its complexity: technological breakthroughs and political transitions, victories and failures, moments of hope and moments of grief. In that sense, journalism is ultimately about life itself. And perhaps that is why I remain fascinated by it.
Because while Kazakhstan continues to build its future, journalists perform a dual role. We participate in the country’s development, but we also document it. We are both witnesses and chroniclers. Sometimes I wonder how future generations will understand our era. Perhaps they will open digital archives, read old articles, watch television broadcasts and scroll through records we leave behind today. Through those fragments, they will reconstruct the story of how Kazakhstan evolved, what challenges it faced and what kind of people lived through them. In a way, journalists are writing the first draft of that history every day.
Decades from now, future generations will look back through archives, broadcasts, articles, and photographs to understand who we were and what we believed. They will trace the evolution of a young nation through the work of those who recorded its journey. That is a privilege. And it is a responsibility.
For journalists to fulfill it honestly, society and the state must both recognize something fundamental: respect for the profession, respect for its independence and respect for the right to ask questions are not abstract principles. They are investments in a more resilient country.
A journalist should never stand above society or below authority. The role is neither to serve power nor to oppose it by default. The role is to build understanding where misunderstanding exists and to help ensure that progress is guided by reality rather than illusion. To work as a bridge between society and the state, a journalist must be free, not because journalists are special, but because trust depends on that freedom. The bridge only works when neither side believes it belongs exclusively to the other.
The world is more fragile than it often appears. That is why journalism matters. And that is why protecting its independence matters even more. On this Day of Media Workers, I wish my colleagues what every journalist needs most: courage, curiosity, integrity and the freedom to keep asking questions. After all, the search for answers is how both journalists and nations continue to grow.
