The 9th Congress of Azerbaijani Journalists brought together media professionals, policymakers, and regulators in a shared moment of reflection on the state of journalism in the country. Among the voices that carried particular weight was that of Natiq Mammadli, Head of Department at the Azerbaijan Media and Broadcasting Council. His address did not dwell on the familiar themes of press freedom or professional ethics alone, but instead turned to a more urgent and combative concern: the unrelenting battle against disinformation. In a world where fabricated narratives can travel across borders in seconds, and where hostile actors seek to undermine national unity through carefully crafted falsehoods, Mammadli’s message was clear—no hour of the day is off-limits, and no falsehood is too small to go unchallenged. The congress, which serves as a milestone for the journalistic community, became the backdrop for a stark reminder of the immense responsibility carried by those who guard the information space. His words, painted with a sense of duty that borders on the personal, resonated deeply with listeners who understand that the fight for truth is not a nine-to-five job but a relentless, often invisible, commitment.
The phenomenon of disinformation targeting Azerbaijan is not new, but its scale and sophistication have evolved dramatically in recent years. External actors, often operating through anonymous social media accounts or state-funded propaganda outlets, seek to distort the country’s image, sow discord between ethnic and religious groups, and undermine public confidence in national institutions. These efforts are not random; they are often timed to coincide with sensitive geopolitical moments, such as territorial disputes, energy negotiations, or international sporting events. Inside the country, too, unverified rumors and malicious fabrications can quickly spiral into panic or social tension. The Media and Broadcasting Council, as the regulatory body overseeing broadcasting and media conduct, has therefore positioned itself not merely as an enforcer of rules, but as a frontline defender of the nation’s informational sovereignty. Mammadli’s speech underscored that this defense requires more than passive monitoring—it demands an active, rapid-response mechanism that can separate truth from lies and present the public with verified facts before falsehoods gain traction.
The most striking aspect of Mammadli’s address was his description of the council’s work schedule. “We have worked almost around the clock in an effort to prevent disinformation directed against our country,” he said, and to illustrate the intensity, he added: “Sometimes at midnight, and sometimes several times during the day, we have issued statements and comments exposing disinformation.” These words humanize the institutional effort. Behind the official language lies a team of analysts, fact-checkers, and communicators who sacrifice sleep and personal time to chase down false claims. They are the digital-era night watchmen, scanning the vast expanse of news websites, social media feeds, and broadcast channels for signs of manipulation. When a fabricated video goes viral, or a misleading headline gains traction, they must pivot instantly—drafting refutations, coordinating with partner agencies, and ensuring that accurate information reaches the widest possible audience. This is meticulous, often thankless work. The public rarely notices the corrections that prevent misinformation from spreading, but they would certainly notice the chaos if such corrections were absent. Mammadli’s description offers a glimpse of the pressure cooker environment in which his team operates, and it serves as a reminder that the fight for truth is fought by people, not abstract institutions.
The methods employed by the council go beyond simple rebuttals. Each statement issued is the product of rigorous verification—cross-referencing sources, consulting official records, and consulting with subject-matter experts when necessary. The goal is not merely to say “this is false,” but to provide the evidence that proves it false, thereby equipping citizens with the tools to discern truth on their own. In a media landscape where emotions often override facts, the council’s comments are designed to be calm, authoritative, and accessible. They do not mimic the aggressive tone of the disinformation they combat, but instead maintain a professional demeanor that reinforces trust. Moreover, the council recognizes that disinformation often comes in many dialects—from crude hoaxes to sophisticated half-truths that twist real events into misleading narratives. Each type requires a tailored response. A midnight statement may be a quick clarification to stop a rumor from spreading, while a daytime commentary might offer a deeper analysis of a coordinated campaign. By varying their tactics, the council ensures that their response is not a monolithic shout, but a versatile tool that can adapt to the shifting strategies of those who seek to deceive.
Beyond the council’s direct interventions, Mammadli’s speech also implicitly called upon journalists themselves to play a role in this struggle. Journalists, as professional gatekeepers of information, have the power to amplify or to debunk. In a world where anyone with a smartphone can broadcast to millions, the responsibility of trained journalists becomes even more critical. The congress, by bringing together these gatekeepers, became a platform for reinforcing the ethical imperative of verifying before publishing and resisting the temptation to chase sensationalism at the cost of accuracy. The council’s around-the-clock vigilance would be far less effective if the media themselves were not committed to the same principles. Mammadli’s address, therefore, was not just a report on institutional activities; it was a call to collective action. He reminded the audience that the fight against disinformation is not a spectator sport—it requires the active, daily participation of every journalist, editor, and publisher. It also requires the public to develop media literacy, to question what they read, and to value trustworthy sources. In this sense, the council’s work is part of a broader ecosystem: regulation alone cannot win the battle; it must be supported by a culture of critical thinking.
As Mammadli’s speech drew to a close, one could not help but feel the weight of the ongoing struggle. The 9th Congress of Azerbaijani Journalists would continue with other panels and discussions, but the echo of his words lingered. The image of a small team working through the night, typing out statements by lamplight while the rest of the country sleeps, is a powerful testimony to the dedication required in the modern information age. It is easy to take for granted the absence of falsehoods from our daily news feeds, but behind that absence are people like Natiq Mammadli and his colleagues who have chosen to make the fight for truth their life’s work. Their vigilance is not a temporary measure, but a permanent state of being. They know that the next disinformation attack could come at any minute—during a national holiday, a political crisis, or simply a quiet Sunday morning. And when it does, they will be ready. The congress may have been a moment for reflection, but for the council, the work continues, uninterrupted, until the last falsehood is exposed and the quiet truth of reliable information prevails once more.