When journalists are forced into exile, the world often celebrates their “escape” from danger. But on the other side of that journey, which may span continents and countless bureaucratic hurdles, lies a less visible, far deeper form of suffering: the silent, enduring psychological toll that exile imprints on those who once bore witness to truth.
For thousands of journalists around the world, fleeing is not the end of repression; it is the beginning of a different kind of struggle. In 2024 alone, aid organizations reported that exiled and at-risk journalists made up a growing share of emergency assistance cases, underlining a global surge in threats that push journalists from their homes into unstable or unfamiliar nations.
The long road out
Journalists do not choose exile like a holiday; they flee under threat of imprisonment, violence, or death. Many wait months or years in transit countries, often with poor press freedom records, because no swift, safe pathway exists. Even when they reach destinations labelled “safe,” the reach of their persecutors often follows them. Threats and reprisals against family members back home persist, reinforcing the sense that physical distance has done little to end the danger.
The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, in its regional reports on forced exile highlight that this uprooting generates complex psychological symptoms, from stress, anxiety, and insomnia to deep feelings of insecurity, sadness, and distrust. These reactions are not simply common reactions to migration: they are tied to forced separation from homes, social networks, careers, and cultural identity.
Identity shattered
One of the most profound impacts of forced exile is the loss of identity. Journalists are storytellers, rooted in place, language, community, and historical context. In exile, they are often reduced to unfamiliar roles: refugees, unemployed, misunderstood, or unheard.
“I am nothing here,” one Syrian journalist in Europe reflected, stripped of professional identity and forced to rebuild not just a livelihood but a sense of self from scratch.
This sense of rootlessness dovetails with documented experiences of trauma: uprooting amplifies not only grief over the loss of home but also the loss of professional purpose, of audience, and of voice. Many journalists in exile report feeling cut off from the public they once informed, a phenomenon RSF describes as devastating both personally and professionally.
The weight of trauma
Trauma among journalists has been studied most often in contexts of war reporting and conflict coverage. Research consistently shows that journalists are at high risk of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression, comparable in some studies to combat veterans, particularly when repeatedly exposed to violence, loss, and the suffering of others.
But forced exile adds another layer to this burden. It is not just the trauma of exposure to violence that haunts exiled journalists; it is the psychological impact of uprooting, isolation, and disrupted belonging.
In interviews with displaced journalists, many describe the mental toll of exile, not just fear and vigilance, but also a profound sense of loss and stagnation. Some experience symptoms akin to PTSD: chronic anxiety, flashbacks, insomnia, and persistent stress reactions. Others describe feelings of guilt and moral injury, guilt for surviving while colleagues remain under threat, or moral distress at being prevented from reporting on unfolding crises.
Isolation and barriers to healing
Exile often means a fracture in social networks. Language barriers, discrimination, and the struggle to enter new labor markets deepen the sense of isolation. Journalists, trained to observe and report, may withdraw socially, compounding emotional pain and impairing their capacity to rebuild community ties.
Reports also highlight how exile can deprive journalists of fundamental rights such as stable work, healthcare access, and legal protections, all factors that sustain psychological distress and hinder recovery.
Why this matters for press freedom
The psychological impact of exile is not just a personal tragedy; it affects journalism itself. When journalists are exiled, the societies they leave behind lose independent witnesses to political and social realities. Many exiled journalists, unable to re-establish their careers, leave the profession altogether, a loss not only of individual talent but of critical voices essential to democratic discourse.
Moreover, the internal suffering of exiled journalists can silence them in subtle but profound ways. Persistent trauma undermines creativity, focus, and confidence, eroding their capacity to report effectively even from abroad.
Toward healing and support
Despite this pervasive psychological burden, mental health support for exiled journalists remains under-resourced. Coverage of trauma in newsrooms has historically focused on physical safety and frontline dangers, not the long-term emotional costs of displacement.
Some organizations are beginning to bridge this gap. UNESCO has launched psychosocial support programs offering one-on-one counseling, peer support, and resilience-building workshops for journalists affected by violence and displacement. Meanwhile, collaborative efforts among NGOs aim to coordinate mental health and resilience support for journalists in exile.
Yet these initiatives, while vital, remain insufficient in scale given the magnitude of the need.
You can find our global network support directory for exiled journalists in our resources.
Conclusion
Forced exile is more than physical displacement: it is a psychological rupture that reverberates through identity, purpose, and emotional well-being. For journalists whose work depends on connection and witness, this rupture can be existential.
To defend press freedom effectively, organizations, donors, and policymakers must recognize that exile carries long-term psychological consequences as serious as any legal or political repression. Supporting the mental health of exiled journalists, through sustained psychosocial care, community integration, and professional restoration, is not an optional add-on to press freedom work. It is foundational.
Exiled journalists carry stories that the world needs to hear. Protecting them means not just giving them refuge, but giving them the support to heal, to continue, and to be heard again.