IN 2024, Seychelles ranked 37th out of 180 countries in the World Press Freedom Index published by Reporters Without Borders (RSF), with a respectable score of 73.75 out of 100. This was a commendable performance on the African continent, albeit a slight drop from 2023. However, in light of recent events, particularly the abrupt expulsion of Vel Moonien in April 2025, this ranking seems poised for further decline.
Rather than addressing growing concerns, President Wavel Ramkalawan has offered vague and often contradictory statements in a clumsy attempt to justify the current climate. His remarks do not reflect a statesman committed to safeguarding liberties, but rather a visibly irritated leader struggling to tolerate an independent press at the risk of undermining the very democratic values he claims to uphold.
In a public statement, the president candidly admitted that he does not understand how RSF’s ranking is determined, even questioning the reliability of its local sources:
“Personally, I don’t know how this index works. I don’t know who they speak to in Seychelles to get their information.”
Such a comment is surprising if not alarming coming from the head of state who is supposed to honour their international commitments on fundamental rights. Especially since several newsrooms confirmed they had never been consulted for the ranking, raising a deeper question: if local journalists aren’t being contacted, who exactly is speaking on behalf of the Seychellois press internationally? And why the organised silence?
According to the president, some journalists are to blame for their allegedly unlawful conduct:
“It is not the state’s intention to persecute a journalist. But every journalist, as a citizen, must respect the law.”
On the surface, this argument might seem fair—if it weren’t used to justify extreme measures like deportation without trial or formal explanation. The law, after all, grants rights to appeal, to defence, and due process. Vel Moonien was denied all of these. And his “crime”? According to him, it was simply his editorial decision not to prioritise coverage of the high-profile Mukesh Valabhji trial. Ironically, editions of Today published after Moonien’s departure made that very trial front-page news. Coincidence—or a carefully orchestrated damage-control operation?
In a stunning moment during a press conference, Ramkalawan stated:
“I’m the one throwing the party; I have the right to choose the guests.”
This phrase speaks volumes about his understanding of press freedom. Presidential press conferences, it seems, are not democratic exercises open to all media, but selective garden parties where journalists are handpicked based on obedience.
Here, again, the contradiction is glaring: how can a president claim to uphold freedom of expression while deciding who can or cannot ask questions?
Perhaps the most revealing moment was when the president tried to defend his neutrality toward the press:
“I’ve never called Nation to tell them to run or not run a story. I’ve never called SBC, although the temptation is strong when I see some of the nonsense they air…”
Up to this point, some ambiguity may have remained. But then he added:
“Today… Well, when I’m not happy with certain articles.”
With that, the president admitted to putting direct pressure “as a citizen” on a private newsroom. This alone is proof of political interference in editorial independence. Especially at a time when Today had just dismissed a foreign journalist whose editorial stance had started to ruffle feathers.
These remarks reveal a dangerous confusion between the president’s institutional role and his frustrations.
No, Mr. President, you cannot be “just a citizen” when you call a newsroom. You are the highest authority in the country. Your words carry weight. Your phone calls have consequences.
And we are already seeing those consequences: the closure of a state-funded news agency without explanation, restrictions on press conference access, pressure on journalists, and now, arbitrary expulsions.
This has not escaped the notice of RSF. The organisation has already condemned the Moonien case as a sign of declining press freedom in Seychelles. With presidential elections on the horizon, the timing could not be worse.
The truth is simple: one cannot claim to be a democratic model while silencing dissenting voices. One cannot wave the Constitution while sidestepping its core principles.
This country needs a free, critical, and diverse press, not an echo chamber for the executive. Journalists are not “guests,” nor are they “troublemakers.” They are the watchdogs of democracy, and their work deserves protection, not suspicion.
If the government wants to restore its image, it must end its retaliatory stance against the media and guarantee safe, fair working conditions for all journalists, local and foreign alike.
Because in the end, it’s not just the press being silenced, it’s the voice of the people that is being suffocated.
