By Haqnawaz Qayoom
Indian journalism is changing rapidly, and few understand it as deeply as Rajdeep Sardesai.
After nearly forty years in journalism, he has seen newsrooms rise and fall, observed changes in editorial practices, and remained committed to the idea that journalism exists to serve the public, even in difficult times.
In this interview with Kashmir Observer, Sardesai speaks candidly about a profession he believes is “seriously unwell”.
The conversation moves from memory to critique. Sardesai explains the tough choice behind the “cash-for-votes” sting, and speaks honestly about the personal toll of online abuse and how he has learned to keep focus on what matters.
Despite the challenges, Sardesai stresses that objectivity does not mean neutrality when people’s rights are at stake. He also believes that, in the end, voters have their own ways of holding those in power accountable.
The interview offers a glimpse into the mind of a journalist who has spent decades reporting on India. It shows someone still deeply committed to the craft, aware of its difficulties, but unwilling to give up on its role in society.
If journalism in India were a person, how would you describe its mood today?
It would feel like someone fighting a serious illness. That’s really how I see it. The media is struggling with a deep credibility crisis. And credibility is the backbone of journalism. You earn it slowly, through years of honest work, and once people trust you, that trust keeps the whole system healthy.
Strong journalism shows its worth when it makes a real difference to society. That’s when you know it’s alive and doing its job.
Today, sadly, we see very little of that. Much of journalism seems to have lost its moral purpose. It doesn’t push for change. So yes, a big part of the profession feels like a patient in serious trouble.
When credibility slips away, journalism stops functioning, and that’s the illness we’re staring at now.
You’ve worked in both television and print media. What’s one thing TV taught you that print didn’t, and one thing print taught you that TV couldn’t?
Television taught me the value of being right where the story is unfolding. In TV, spot reporting is everything. You need to capture the moment, you need the visuals, because the camera tells half the story. And TV also showed me how much journalism depends on teamwork. You’re only as strong as the cameraperson filming with you, the editor cutting your story, the producer planning your show. TV is a group effort through and through. I didn’t learn that in print.
Print, on the other hand, taught me something TV never could: the power of deep research and context. When you don’t have visuals to lean on, you have to understand every layer of the story. You need background, history, nuance. Print forces you to dig, question, and connect dots. In many ways, it’s more demanding because the entire weight of the story rests on your reporting and writing.
So yes, TV taught me teamwork and the energy of being on the scene. Print taught me depth, context and the discipline of going beyond the surface.
Given your long career and decades of travel across India, could you share three stories you’re most proud of, and why?
When I look back, three moments stand out.
The first is my coverage of the 1992-93 Mumbai riots. Mumbai is home for me. I grew up there, I know its lanes, moods, and people. Watching the city tear itself apart after the Babri Masjid demolition was heartbreaking.
Week after week, we were out on the streets, trying to make sense of the violence, the fear and the sudden divide between neighbours.
That story stayed with me because it felt like documenting the pain of a city I loved.
The second is my reporting on the 2002 Gujarat riots. I have a personal link to Gujarat. My grandparents lived there and to see that place burn with religious hatred was extremely difficult. It tested every instinct I had as a journalist.
We spent long days and nights covering it, speaking to people who had lost everything, trying to separate fact from rumour, and holding on to whatever truth we could find.
It was one of the toughest assignments of my life.
The third moment is building CNN-IBN from scratch.
Creating a newsroom, shaping its values, training young reporters, and seeing it grow into a national channel was as fulfilling as any big investigation or ground report. It was building an institution that could stand for something.
Each of these experiences shaped me as a journalist, and as a person.
As someone who closely follows Indian politics, where do you see it heading in the next 10 years?
To me, Indian politics feels like it’s slipping into a kind of dark tunnel. Money drives almost everything now, far more than it ever did.
When money becomes the main engine, politics loses its moral centre. The idea of public service becomes less appealing, and the space gets filled with people who see politics as a business.
Corruption has grown, and so has a kind of everyday cynicism. We’re watching leaders return to old strategies of dividing people, playing on identity, and keeping communities apart for political gain. It’s unethical, and sadly, I think we’ll see even more of it in the coming decade.
Unless there’s a strong push from citizens for cleaner politics, we may find ourselves deeper in this black hole, where winning matters more than doing the right thing.
There are many people who draw inspiration from you. Are there any present-day journalists, in India or abroad, whose work you would’ve admired as a young journalist?
When I was starting out, I was deeply moved by the work of John Pilger. His reporting from conflict zones around the world had a rare honesty and courage. His books opened my eyes to what journalism could achieve.
Another writer who stayed with me was Thomas Friedman. His book From Beirut to Jerusalem is, in my view, one of the finest pieces of journalistic writing.
If I had to name someone in India whose commitment really stood out, it would be P. Sainath. His dedication to covering rural India, agriculture and farmer suicides, stories many others ignored, was extraordinary. The depth, patience and purpose in his work made a lasting impression on me.
So while I don’t want to narrow it down to a single journalist, these are the names that shaped my idea of what good journalism can be.
Can you recall a moment in your career where you had to make a difficult ethical choice? And looking back, would you still make the same decision?
There have been many such moments, but one that still stands out is the “cash-for-votes” sting operation we did in 2008. This was during a crucial Parliament vote, when some MPs were accused of taking bribes. We had the sting ready, the footage was solid, and the story was explosive.
But we didn’t air it immediately. We waited almost four weeks because we felt we needed every piece in place. It was a highly sensitive story, and we wanted to be absolutely sure we had covered every angle, legally and ethically. That delay was a tough call.
Looking back, I sometimes wonder if I would have done it differently. Maybe I would have moved faster and not let the fear of legal complications slow us down. Maybe the story should have gone on air right away.
But at that moment, it really was a difficult ethical decision, choosing between speed and caution, urgency and responsibility. And those are exactly the kinds of choices that stay with you long after the story is over.
You are one of the very few remaining independent voices in mainstream TV news today. Are there any boundaries you set for yourself while reporting? And if yes, how do you decide when to push back?
For me, the goal is always the same: tell the story. In a country as large and complicated as India, you have to keep looking for stories from every corner, especially the ones where power is being misused. Those are the stories that matter the most to me.
But the truth is, we’re working in a very restrictive media environment. Mainstream news today comes with pressures, and sometimes those pressures shape what you can or cannot put out. There are moments when you want to chase a story, particularly one involving people in power, whether in Delhi or in the states, and you realise it may simply not be possible at that time.
So yes, I do set boundaries, not out of fear but out of strategy. Sometimes you have to step back from one story so you can live to tell another. It’s not easy, and it’s not ideal.
But if you want to keep an independent voice alive in this climate, you learn to pick your battles. And whenever I can push back, whenever I feel a story must be told, I try my best to make sure it reaches people.
Journalists want to know how their audience receives their work. But we also live in a time when objective reporters are targeted by organised online trolling. How do you deal with that, especially since it can be mentally exhausting?
It is exhausting. I won’t pretend otherwise. There have been times when the trolling has really gotten to me. When thousands of strangers attack you day after day, it drains you, and it can shake your confidence.
But over the years, I’ve learned something important: at the end of the day, you’re accountable only to yourself. If you know you’ve done your work honestly, that you’ve stayed true to your values, reported facts, and acted in good faith, then the noise outside shouldn’t carry much weight.
That doesn’t mean I’m made of steel. I’ve been affected in the past, sometimes deeply. The difference is that today, it affects me far less. I’ve learned to separate genuine feedback from organised hate, and I’ve learned not to let people who don’t know me define how I feel about my own work.
It took time, missteps, and a lot of self-reflection, but that’s how I’ve learned to keep going.
You’ve often spoken about the compromises in Indian media. Journalism is called the fourth pillar of democracy. Do you think these compromises are weakening that ideal or affecting democracy in some way?
Absolutely, and I say that with real concern. There is something deeply wrong with journalism right now. The media has stepped away from one of its most basic duties: questioning those in power, whether in Delhi or in the states. When the press stops asking hard questions, democracy becomes weaker. It’s that simple.
A healthy democracy needs accountability. It needs the media to shine light on what’s hidden, examine decisions, challenge wrongdoing, and give voice to people who aren’t heard.
When we don’t do that, entire sections of public life slip into darkness.
What worries me even more is when the media gets involved in divisive politics, and when it pushes narratives that demonise communities or fuel religious tension. That’s propaganda. And it’s completely unacceptable.
So yes, I do believe the media has abandoned some of its core responsibilities in recent times. And in doing so, it has weakened the democratic fabric it was meant to protect.
There’s a view that journalists should stand up for justice rather than stay neutral. Do you think it’s acceptable, or even necessary, for journalists to take a stand on social issues?
Absolutely. When there is clear injustice, you stand with the victim, always. You stand with the person who has been wronged, silenced or stripped of their rights. If someone has been jailed unfairly, you speak up. If someone’s basic freedoms or dignity are taken away, you don’t sit on the fence.
To me, the idea that a journalist must remain neutral in the face of injustice simply makes no sense. You can stay objective, meaning you stick to facts, verify everything, and avoid personal bias, but you don’t stay neutral when someone’s life or liberty is being crushed.
Neutrality in those moments doesn’t help anyone.
So yes, taking a stand on issues of justice is part of what journalism is meant to do.
You built CNN-IBN from scratch and later watched NDTV, a channel deeply connected to your career, go through a similar corporate takeover. Do you think corporate ownership compromises the journalistic independence of TV channels and newspapers?
Absolutely, and I say that without hesitation. Corporate ownership almost always creates a problem for journalistic independence. Most large corporates rely heavily on government permissions, regulations and discretionary decisions. When your business depends on staying in the good books of the government, how can you, as an owner, allow your newsroom to question that very government?
That’s where the real conflict begins.
In India, the problem becomes even more serious because we lack strong, effective regulation. There’s very little to stop a handful of business groups from taking over major chunks of the media landscape. When one or two powerful individuals or companies control multiple news outlets, it becomes much harder to do adversarial journalism, the kind that speaks truth to power.
So yes, corporate ownership can and does compromise independence. And unless we fix the structural issues, especially cross-media ownership, the space for honest, fearless journalism will keep shrinking.
We’ve seen a public clash between Elon Musk and Donald Trump. Musk once backed Trump’s re-election, and now he’s launched a new political party. How do you see this shaping U.S. politics, especially with the unprecedented nature of Trump 2.0?
To be honest, America right now feels like a country caught in a deep moral crisis. And that crisis shows in the kind of people dominating its political stage.
You have a president who lies constantly and performs for the crowd, Donald Trump, and then you have Elon Musk, who is brilliant in many ways but often behaves like a man-child who believes he alone knows what’s best for America.
A clash between these two is worrying. It’s a battle of egos. And when politics becomes a playground for two narcissistic personalities, it’s never good news for democracy.
Democracy is built by people who do the slow, steady work: building trust, strengthening institutions, promoting fairness, and pushing for an equal society. It doesn’t grow in the hands of self-styled strongmen who think they can reshape a country on impulse.
And frankly, I don’t see either Trump or Musk interested in that deeper, harder task.
During the 2024 Lok Sabha campaign, the Prime Minister openly named two major businessmen while accusing the Congress of taking funds from them. More broadly, do you think business funding of election campaigns undermines democracy?
Of course it does. Whenever money becomes the driving force in elections, democracy takes a hit. If votes can be influenced or bought, then the whole idea of a free choice starts to collapse.
A fair election only works when everyone has a level playing field. They should have similar access to resources, campaign tools, and media space. Right now, that balance simply doesn’t exist.
There wasn’t a level playing field in 2024, and there hasn’t been one for some time.
When big business funds campaigns, it creates a clear tilt toward those in power. It also means policies can end up serving donors rather than citizens.
But, I still believe voters have a wisdom. Even in an uneven contest, they find subtle ways to send messages to those who misuse power.
It may take time, but people do speak. And when they do, the message can be very firm.
And to end on a personal note, in one sentence, what does journalism mean to you?
For me, journalism has been a lifelong journey and passion, with all its highs and lows, and that’s why it feels much more like a calling than just a profession.
- The interviewer is an undergraduate students at University of Delhi.
