There are moments in public life when the words of a leader reveal not just poor judgment, but a dangerous disdain for the very foundations of democracy. Gov. Albert Bryan Jr.’s recent attack on the local press – specifically, our last remaining daily printed news outlet – was one such moment.
To wish that a media institution “die an evil and wicked death” is not merely rhetorical excess. It is a verbal assault on one of the most sacred pillars of a free society. These words, spoken not in jest or frustration but under the full authority of the Governor’s Office, were disgraceful, irresponsible, and unworthy of the dignity of the post. Had this statement been made by a private citizen or an internet troll, it might be dismissed as noise. But when a sitting governor, cloaked in the legitimacy of public office, utters such vitriol, it becomes an act of political violence – one that seeks to delegitimize a constitutionally protected institution.
As a former senator, I have not always agreed with the press. I’ve been criticized. I’ve been challenged. I’ve had moments of tension with editorial boards and reporters. But even in those moments, I never lost sight of the essential truth: the press is not here to serve politicians. It exists to serve the people. Even when we clash, even when the coverage is uncomfortable, the press has a duty to question, investigate, and report – and we, as public servants, have a duty to respect that.
What happened here in the Virgin Islands is not an isolated event. It is part of a larger, deeply troubling trend across the United States. The free press is under attack – verbally, politically, and even physically. From campaign rallies where journalists are vilified as “enemies of the people,” to efforts by state governments to restrict access to public records, to growing threats and violence directed at reporters simply doing their jobs – the groundwork is being laid for a society where truth is no longer a public good but a partisan weapon.
This erosion of press freedom threatens the very soul of democracy. History has shown us the danger. When fascist regimes rose in the 20th century, their first move was to silence dissenting voices and control the narrative. Mussolini’s Italy. Hitler’s Germany. Stalin’s Soviet Union. Chávez’s Venezuela. Putin’s Russia. In each case, the first casualty of creeping authoritarianism was the press.
And what is perhaps most chilling is that it doesn’t begin with censorship laws or shuttered newsrooms. It begins with language. Words. Dehumanizing phrases. Casual cruelty. Public ridicule. That’s how the public is conditioned to look away when the real crackdown begins.
When the Governor of this territory publicly expresses a wish for the destruction of the press, he is engaging in that same pattern. And no amount of political charisma or deflection can excuse it.
What makes this even more unacceptable is the reality that this administration has not faced a hostile media environment. Despite rising public frustration over infrastructure failures, economic instability, health care deficiencies, and administrative opacity, the press has been measured – even restrained. The Governor has not been “dragged” by any stretch. If anything, the coverage has been far gentler than what other administrations have endured.
And yet, even that is too much for him to bear.
Let us be clear: this is not about one publication. This is about what kind of democracy we want to live in. If we allow our leaders to incite hatred against journalists without consequence, we are sending a message to future generations that truth doesn’t matter, that power need not be questioned, and that the role of the media is to flatter, not to inform.
In a territory where access to reliable information is already fragile, the loss of even one independent news outlet is not just a logistical inconvenience – it is a civic emergency. The press is how the people know what their government is doing. It is how we track tax dollars, investigate abuse, and challenge the powerful. And in a place like the Virgin Islands, where government too often operates in shadows, that role is not just important – it is essential.
We cannot allow this moment to pass in silence.
We demand a retraction. We demand an apology. But more than that, we demand a reaffirmation – from every elected official and every civic institution – that the press is a partner in democracy, not a punching bag for bruised egos.
Because when the press is attacked, it is not just journalists who suffer. It is the people. And when words like “die an evil and wicked death” are spoken by someone with power, they do not merely echo – they endanger.
To defend the press is to defend the people’s right to know. And to fail to do so is to join the ranks of those who believe democracy is expendable.
Let history show that we did not stay silent.
—Former St. Thomas Sen. Janelle K. Sarauw
Editor’s Note: Opinion articles do not represent the views of the Virgin Islands Source newsroom and are the sole expressed opinion of the writer. Submissions can be made to [email protected].
