The Free Press Foundation was built on a simple premise: independent journalism is a public good, and it needs sustained, flexible support to survive. When conflict reshapes the daily rhythms of a country, the reporters who remain on the ground become the only source of reliable information for millions of people. We have chosen to back a new reporting series that brings together accounts from regions living under different forms of emergency rule, because we believe that comparative storytelling reveals patterns that single-region coverage cannot.
Martial law, border closures, press restrictions, and information blackouts are not abstract concepts for readers in Sydney or Melbourne. The lessons drawn from regions experiencing these conditions feed into debates that shape Australian policy, including how the federal government frames national security legislation and how outlets like the ABC and The Conversation cover conflicts abroad. Funding a comparative series allows us to surface those lessons without forcing any single journalist to become the voice of an entire nation.
Australia's journalism community has a long tradition of asking tough questions of power, from the Watergate-inspired reporting that shaped the Canberra press gallery to recent investigative work honoured by the Walkley Awards. By supporting reporters in Ukraine, Myanmar, Sudan, and elsewhere, we extend that tradition beyond our shores. The resulting stories give Australian editors, students, and ordinary readers a clearer picture of what emergency rule actually looks like when the lights go out in a newsroom.
When a single region falls under martial law, news organisations often focus on the most dramatic moments: curfews, arrests, the sudden silence of independent broadcasters. A comparative series changes the lens. Editors and readers can see how a six-month state of emergency in one place differs from a decade-long occupation in another. Patterns emerge that would otherwise stay hidden, such as the way local courts are suspended, or how community radio stations pivot to encrypted messaging apps.
This kind of side-by-side analysis also helps journalists avoid the trap of treating any one conflict as exceptional. Every emergency rule regime borrows tools from somewhere else, whether it is checkpoint bureaucracy imported from a previous war or surveillance legislation modelled on a foreign ally's playbook. Researchers at institutions such as the Australian Strategic Policy Institute have shown how these patterns travel, and the same logic applies to press freedom.
We also believe that comparative work is more useful for advocacy. When we approach potential supporters, from Melbourne-based philanthropic foundations to individual donors in Brisbane, we can show them a portfolio of stories rather than a single appeal. The impact is measurable and the narrative is richer.
The reporting from Kherson and Luhansk stands out because residents there live under a hybrid system that combines Russian federal law with martial-style restrictions inherited from earlier phases of the conflict. Local journalists describe a slow tightening: first the blocking of Ukrainian-language websites, then the replacement of independent school boards, and finally the rebranding of regional newspapers as arms of the occupying administration. Our funded work on the hidden cost of censorship walks readers through that progression in granular detail.
What surprised our editors was how many parallels exist with other contexts. Reporters in Myanmar's Chin State and in Sudan's Darfur region describe similar restrictions on movement, similar pressure on community radio, and similar patterns of self-censorship among teachers and health workers. The series is designed to put these accounts side by side, so readers can recognise the patterns themselves rather than having an analyst explain them.
Emergency rule rarely targets classrooms directly at first. Instead, it reshapes the surrounding environment: universities lose accreditation, textbooks are rewritten, and school administrators are replaced. Young people lose access to independent curricula within months. Our funding philosophy treats education infrastructure as part of press infrastructure, because the next generation of reporters is sitting in those classrooms right now.
We have supported research into how emergency regimes affect schooling, and the findings sit alongside journalism grants in our portfolio. The piece on education inequality might seem distant from the frontlines of eastern Ukraine, but it shares a structural argument: when institutions are weakened, the people who lose out first are those without private resources. Australian readers will recognise the dynamic from debates about the HECS system and regional university funding.
Walkley Award judges in recent years have honoured several pieces that took a comparative approach to international stories, including coverage of press freedom in Southeast Asia and investigative work on foreign interference. The appetite is there. Australian audiences want depth, not just breaking-news alerts, and our series is built for that kind of reader.
Conversations with editors at The Guardian Australia and the ABC's Four Corners team have also shaped our editorial priorities. They have asked for more context on how emergency regimes affect diaspora communities in Australia, particularly in suburbs like Fairfield in Sydney or in parts of Melbourne where Ukrainian, Sudanese, and Myanmar-born residents live. Our funded reporting feeds directly into those conversations.
The table below sketches the main dimensions our series tracks. It is not a scorecard but a tool for readers who want to compare quickly and spot the structural similarities between very different conflicts.
| Dimension | Kherson and Luhansk under Russian administration | Myanmar regions under military rule | Darfur under emergency decrees |
|---|---|---|---|
| Duration of restrictions | Since 2022, in waves | Since 2021 coup | Renewed periodically since 2003 |
| Press freedom status | Independent outlets replaced by occupation media | Licences revoked, journalists imprisoned | Local reporters operate under threat |
| Movement controls | Checkpoints between settlements | Travel permits required | Curfews in displacement camps |
| Education impact | Ukrainian curriculum replaced | Universities closed in many areas | Schools damaged or occupied |
| Digital censorship | Ukrainian sites blocked, VPN use criminalised | Social media throttled | Mobile networks intermittent |
Our grant committee reviews proposals every quarter, and we publish the criteria openly. We look for editorial independence, safety planning, regional balance, and a clear plan for distribution. The comparative martial law series scored well on all four, particularly because the lead applicant proposed partnerships with outlets in three different countries.
We also make a point of funding the unglamorous work: translation, fact-checking, legal review, and distribution to small regional outlets. Practical guides matter too, which is why our resources section includes a step-by-step on setting an Adidas LED watch, a humble item that doubles as a covert communication tool for correspondents who cannot rely on smartphones. Australian supporters who back our work can see exactly where their contributions go, which matters in a country where charities face strict accountability rules through the Australian Charities and Not-for-profits Commission.