Explainer: The hidden risks confronting women journalists in Northeast India

A new study of 16 women journalists across the eight Northeastern states finds that the region’s reporters navigate a unique bind. They are treated as “not national enough” by mainland media, yet expected to be community spokespersons at home, all while facing violence that moves seamlessly from the street to the smartphone.

A peer-reviewed study published in Journalism Practice by Sayan Dey and Aloy Deb Barma of Mizoram University interviewed 16 women journalists, two from each Northeastern state, with careers ranging from 2.5 to 40 years.

Conducted between November 2024 and January 2025, the research set out to answer a question that has received surprisingly little academic attention: What does press freedom actually look like for women reporting from one of India’s most geopolitically sensitive and most otherised regions?

The answer, drawn from hours of interviews, is a layered picture of risk. Gender, ethnicity and regional identity do not simply add up here. They actively intensify each other.

While journalist safety has been widely studied globally, research focusing specifically on women journalists in Northeast India has remained limited. The authors argue that existing work has often focused on individual states or broader discussions of women in Indian media, leaving the region’s intersecting challenges underexplored.

This study attempts to fill that gap by examining experiences across all eight Northeastern states.

Platformed risk spillover

Nine of the 16 journalists described a sequence in which an offline threat, such as a “friendly” warning to be careful or a visit from someone with local clout, was quickly followed by a coordinated online pile-on. The researchers describe this pattern as “platformed risk spillover.”

One journalist recalled that after she broke a corruption story, she began receiving offline “advisory cautions.” Within days, the harassment moved online. Abuse targeting her photos was so severe that she stopped filing stories under her own byline for a while.

Another described being followed and filmed by a cab driver, noting bluntly that a man would not have been treated the same way. The researchers argue that physical intimidation and digital abuse increasingly reinforce one another rather than occurring as separate experiences.

Double addressability: too local for Delhi, too much of an outsider at home

Perhaps the most distinctive finding is what the study calls double addressability. Seven of the 16 journalists described being caught between two contradictory expectations.

National media routinely dismiss Northeast stories as not “national enough,” brushing them aside as merely local even when they repeatedly cover the same states.

At the same time, their own communities expect them to act as ethnic advocates during moments of conflict, for instance, by facing pressure to “take a side” during interstate border disputes.

This means women journalists are simultaneously seen as too peripheral for the national conversation and too implicated in it locally to be treated as neutral reporters. The authors link this bind to the region’s long history of being otherised within India’s national media discourse.

The protective patriarchy paradox

Eleven of the 16 journalists reported a contradiction the researchers call the protective patriarchy paradox. Women are frequently kept off conflict, political or investigative beats “for their own safety,” but when they are sent into volatile situations, they receive little or no institutional support.

One journalist summed it up sharply. Her outlet denied her conflict-beat assignments, citing gender and safety, yet left her without protection amid an angry mob while she was covering a protest.

In other words, safety is invoked to exclude women from career-building assignments, but it rarely translates into actual safety gear, legal aid or training when they do face danger.

Newsroom bias runs deeper than beat allocation

Beyond physical risk, the study documents everyday structural discrimination. Women are disproportionately assigned “soft” features and lifestyle stories, while hard news and conflict beats go to men.

One journalist recalled a job interview where an editor openly expressed concern about hiring her because she was newly married and might soon take maternity leave.

Sexual harassment complaints, when raised, were sometimes resolved by transferring the victim to another department rather than holding the harasser accountable. Journalists from indigenous communities described facing derogatory, racialised remarks from within the region’s own press fraternity, with professional bodies like press clubs remaining silent.

The toll is measurable, and psychological

High-profile attacks cited in the study, including the petrol bomb attack on Meghalaya journalist Patricia Mukhim’s residence, the shooting of Tongam Rina in Arunachal Pradesh, and the police assault on a woman journalist in Mizoram, are not outliers, the authors argue. They are points on a continuum that also includes chronic stress, anxiety and, in some cases, therapy and medication to cope with sustained threats.

What the researchers are recommending

The study steers clear of generic media safety advice and instead proposes context-specific measures for the region.

Journalist unions and press clubs could act as first responders, offering legal aid and emergency support during periods of unrest. Regional media houses could provide vernacular-language digital safety training and basic protective equipment.

Beat allocation could be based on competence rather than gender. A dedicated government point of contact, potentially through the Directorate of Information and Public Relations and Home Departments, could handle threats against journalists.

Platform reporting systems and the law could explicitly recognise ethnic- and region-based harassment as distinct professional hazards, not just generic online abuse.

Why it matters for readers in the Northeast

The study’s core argument is that press freedom in the region cannot be measured in the same way as it is elsewhere in India. For women reporters here, safety is not just about avoiding conflict zones.

It is about surviving newsroom bias, community expectations and coordinated online harassment all at once, often with little institutional backing.

The authors argue that without structural reform, this intersectional risk ecosystem will continue pushing talented reporters towards self-censorship, or out of the profession altogether.

The study ultimately argues that improving press freedom in Northeast India cannot be separated from improving the safety and professional recognition of women journalists.

Without structural changes in newsrooms, stronger institutional support and greater recognition of the region’s distinct realities, the overlapping pressures of gender, ethnicity and regional marginalisation will continue to shape not only who reports the news, but also which stories are told.

Also Read: My daughter, my city, and a protest a thousand miles from Jantar Mantar