The Drousiotis Case as a New Starting Point
Investigative journalism requires discretion, rigorous verification, careful handling, and cross-checking of sources, endless hours of research and fact-checking, painstaking measures to protect against surveillance by malicious actors—both institutional and otherwise—and ongoing editorial and legal support. Although it has become entrenched in the public consciousness as a solitary process, this does not mean it must be the endeavor of a single person. Quite the contrary. Investigative journalism must never be the endeavor of a single person.
In Cyprus, where the mainstream media—which, at worst, serve the dominant political-economic system and, at best, compromise with it—investigative journalism —that is, the kind that requires months of work—has ended up being carried out by a handful of lone journalists who feel a moral obligation to investigate issues of public interest.
And this is mainly because mainstream media lack the tradition, the structures, and the resources to invest in it, but more depressingly, because they lack the willingness—or even the courage—to risk finding themselves in the dilemma of exposing issues that might create conflicts regarding their political or economic interests, or even the ideologicalof their owners or their major sponsors and advertisers.
For years, Cypriot society only learned about serious cases of corruption taking place in the country when they were exposed by international investigative media outlets. Most of the time, the patriotic instincts of public opinion were directed toward questioning the intentions of the international media, and they succeeded in minimizing the impact and obscuring the findings. As a result, wrongdoing went uncorrected, and the guilty parties were rarely held accountable.
There are, of course, pockets of good journalism—as well as many good journalists—and serious scandals are often exposed. However, these tend to be part of partisan payback between political or business figures, who exploit the declining media as part of their game.
To a large extent, this trend was recently confirmed not by a reluctance to engage in investigative journalism but, unexpectedly and curiously, by the toothless coverage of the genocide in Gaza by the Cypriot media, which was dominated by an uncomfortable but clearly strategic indifference. Apparently, this was to avoid undermining the government’s plans and narratives, as well as the economic interests of those who support it.
Thus, inevitably, some journalists, almost in a Don Quixote-like manner, are forced to operate on the fringes, taking risks without the absolutely essential support of the mechanisms of a robust and independent news organization. A publisher who, within the framework of oversight and adherence to the rules of journalistic ethics, can encourage and support thejournalists and assume ultimate responsibility for their investigations.
Or, as perhaps should have been done in the case of Makarios Drousiotis’s most recent investigation, to articulate what the editor-in-chief of the Washington Post, Ben Bradlee, by striking out sentences from a draft article in the early stages of the Watergate investigation, told Woodward and Bernstein: “Get some harder information next time.”
Mr. Drousiotis, in the case of his investigation into *The Mafia State*, had secured the necessary “hard information,” as he himself claims, because he was “in the room” when the events were unfolding. The fact that a significant portion of the findings of his investigation was corroborated by the Anti-Corruption Authority’s report is telling.
However, his most recent flawed investigation —which, strictly speaking, cannot even be considered journalism—cost him dearly but, above all, eroded the public’s trust in journalism at a time when democracy needs it so badly. The heaviest blow to the public interest and democracy, however, came from the audacity of the political establishment, which—having been wounded by Mr. Drousiotis, exploited the weaknesses of the second investigation and launched an unacceptable persecution against the journalist.
A state, lacking consistency in the principle of proportionality, which with comfortable hypocrisy utters hollow proclamations in favor of freedom of the press and freedom of expression but, with the same ease, has chosen to intimidate the journalistic community by turning a journalist into a subject of investigation and accusation. A cheap warning to anyone who might dare to investigate any future cases of corruption. A devious move aimed at widening and obscuring the gap between the government and the public by neutralizing the intermediary—the media.
Perhaps this is to be expected from a country that has just handed over the presidency of the Council of the EU but has still not ratified the European Directive on the Protection of Journalists and Journalistic Sources (EMFA). It was supposed to have done so by August 2025.
Despite all this, however, the Drousiotis case must serve as a starting point for a new beginning for Cypriot journalism. Instead of—as seems to be the case—dividing the journalistic community, it should unite it so that investigative work does not end up being a test for one individual but rather an effective collaboration among many.
Footnote: An initial effort in this regard is the Cyprus Investigative Journalism Network (CIReN), an initiative of the Institute of Mass Media (IMME) with the support of the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP). Since 2024, CIReN has been an autonomous, independent nonprofit organization under the editorial direction and ownership of its journalists. Free from commercial interests tied to investment or technology companies, and without advertisements, it is funded by foundations that support independent journalism, by subscriptions and donations from its readers, and, most importantly, through partnerships with other journalistic and research organizations: www.ciren.cy
Nikolas Karydis is the director of IMM: www.imme–universitas.org
