In a hotel conference hall in Baku, Azerbaijan, on a crisp October morning, media leaders and government officials from across Asia gathered not to celebrate the reach of modern communication, but to confront its fragility. The room was filled with the quiet hum of simultaneous translation and the occasional click of cameras—a fitting backdrop for a conversation about how words and images shape reality. The occasion was the First Conference on Interaction and Confidence Building Measures in Asia (CICA) Media Forum, a day-long meeting organized by Azerbaijan’s Media Development Agency under a theme that could not be more urgent: “Building Trust through Media in a Polarised World.” Among the speakers was Prak Thaveak Amida, undersecretary of state at Cambodia’s Ministry of Information, who had traveled to the Azerbaijani capital to represent his minister, Neth Pheaktra. In a roundtable session titled “The Role of the Media in Strengthening Social Cohesion and Intercultural Dialogue,” Amida delivered a message that resonated beyond the room: the world’s media organisations must strengthen their fact-checking practices, because artificial intelligence and social media have made misleading and manipulated content easier to create, distribute, and believe. His warning was not abstract. It spoke directly to a moment when deepfakes, viral hoaxes, and algorithmically amplified outrage are eroding public trust in institutions, in journalism, and often in one another. Amida argued that reliable information, fair representation, and respectful discussion are not optional extras in a healthy society; they are the very foundations of social cohesion. Without them, he suggested, even the most connected societies can fracture along lines of suspicion and misunderstanding. The forum itself was designed to address exactly these concerns, bringing together senior government officials, media leaders, and communication specialists from CICA member countries to discuss public trust, ethical reporting, and regional media cooperation. For Cambodia, a nation that has experienced both the promise and peril of rapid digital change, the conversation was especially meaningful. It was also a chance for Cambodia to share its own solutions with the wider world.
Amida’s central insight was a subtle but powerful reframing of what social cohesion actually means. Too often, he observed, we assume that a cohesive society is one in which everyone agrees. But that is neither realistic nor desirable. “Social cohesion does not depend on everyone holding the same view,” he told the audience. “It depends, in part, on the ability to examine differing views on the basis of verified information and with respect for those involved.” In other words, the goal is not unanimity but a shared commitment to truth and decency in how we disagree. In an era when public discourse is often reduced to slogans and outrage, this was a refreshingly nuanced position. It requires journalists to be both rigorous and humble—rigorous in verifying facts, humble in acknowledging that their perspective is not the only one. This is especially important in a polarized world, where public emotions run high and sensitive issues can explode into conflict at any moment. Responsible journalism, Amida said, helps sustain the common ground that makes disagreement possible without destroying the fabric of society. When journalists verify facts, include context, and treat people with dignity, they create a space where citizens can argue passionately about the future without questioning each other’s humanity. When they fail to do so, they feed the cycle of distrust and resentment. The roundtable session, moderated by Shafag Mehraliyeva of ADA University, included representatives from Pakistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Jordan, and Kyrgyzstan—each bringing their own national experiences of media, conflict, and community. But Amida’s framing seemed to cut across those differences. He was not offering a simple checklist of best practices. He was asking media professionals to reconsider their role in society: not merely as transmitters of information, but as architects of the conditions under which dialogue can flourish. That is a heavier responsibility than simply reporting the news, and it requires a different kind of discipline—one rooted in accuracy, fairness, and respect for the people whose lives are touched by every story.
A large part of Amida’s address focused on the double-edged nature of social media and artificial intelligence. On one hand, these technologies have democratized communication in extraordinary ways. People can now learn about other cultures, share their own experiences, and connect with others across borders in real time. On the other hand, the same tools have made it far easier to produce and spread misleading, manipulated, or entirely fabricated content. “Such content can deepen distrust if it is accepted or shared without scrutiny,” Amida warned. He noted that a single doctored image or out-of-context clip can go viral in minutes, reaching millions of people before any correction is possible. The result is a public sphere in which suspicion often outpaces understanding. Algorithms, after all, are designed to maximize engagement, and engagement often thrives on outrage rather than understanding. To counter this, Cambodia has launched a national campaign called “Say No to Fake News,” which encourages citizens to check the source, evidence, and context of information before sharing it. The campaign is not about telling people what to think; it is about equipping them with the habits of mind needed to navigate a complex information environment. Amida described these skills as essential to responsible citizenship. “These skills help citizens engage with information responsibly and support dialogue based on facts rather than suspicion,” he said. The forum’s discussions also covered strategies to counter misinformation more broadly, strengthen journalism ethics, and manage the opportunities and risks that AI presents for media organizations. Amida did not suggest that governments should control content, but rather that citizens and media professionals must develop a kind of digital immune system. There was no illusion that the problem could be solved overnight. But there was a clear sense that media institutions, governments, and tech platforms all have a role to play—and that doing nothing is not an option. For Cambodia, the campaign is one example of how a country can take proactive steps to protect its information ecosystem, even as global platforms continue to evolve in unpredictable ways.
Beyond the mechanics of fact-checking, Amida turned to the deeper question of representation. Journalism is not just about whether the facts are true; it is about which facts are chosen, whose voices are heard, and how communities are portrayed. A community is not a monolith; it contains many voices, many experiences, many truths. He urged journalists to ensure that reporting on culture, identity, or belief includes the voices of those directly concerned and sufficient context to explain their experiences. This is a matter of fairness, but it is also a matter of accuracy. A story that reduces a complex community to a single incident or a single stereotype is not merely unkind; it is incomplete. “An isolated incident should not be allowed to define an entire community,” Amida said. “Accuracy, thoughtful language and professional judgment can help prevent misunderstanding from taking root.” He also reminded the audience that language matters: the words used to describe a group can either humanize or dehumanize. He outlined three concrete ways in which media can strengthen social cohesion. First, through fair and accurate representation that reflects the full humanity of the people being covered. Second, through coverage that makes intercultural dialogue part of everyday public life—not just a special segment during crises or holidays, but a regular feature of news, features, and commentary. Third, through the creation of credible platforms for constructive discussion of differences. These platforms need not be neutral in the sense of having no opinions; rather, they must be trustworthy spaces where competing views can be examined honestly, with evidence and respect. Amida’s point was that social cohesion is built in the details of editorial decisions: the choice of a headline, the selection of a quote, the decision to include or omit context. Each of these choices either reinforces the bonds that hold a diverse society together or chips away at them.
Amida also spoke from the perspective of Cambodia as a member of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), a region that prides itself on unity in diversity. The ASEAN motto, “One Vision, One Identity, One Community,” may sound simple, but it is hard-won in a region with such deep historical and cultural differences. ASEAN countries are home to hundreds of languages, cultures, traditions, and histories, and that diversity places a special responsibility on journalists. Journalists, he implied, are the translators of that diversity. How they cover their neighbors—and how they cover the minority communities within their own borders—can shape public perceptions for generations. Amida encouraged media to help audiences appreciate diversity while also recognizing shared experiences and aspirations. He pointed to stories of cooperation in schools, workplaces, and communities as powerful examples of how people from different backgrounds can address common concerns together. These stories may not be as dramatic as conflict or controversy, but they are essential to a complete picture of society. He also called for exchanges among journalists and jointly produced content that could bring those experiences across borders, allowing audiences to learn about other societies through the voices of their own people. Such cooperation, he said, would present participating countries’ cultures and experiences with authenticity and respect. Cambodia welcomed cooperation among CICA media institutions and professionals on responsible reporting, verification, media literacy, and the responsible use of emerging technologies. The forum itself was structured to encourage this kind of exchange. The first roundtable session examined initiatives, cooperation, and results under Azerbaijan’s CICA chairmanship; the second, in which Amida participated, brought together representatives from Pakistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Jordan, and Kyrgyzstan. The diversity of the room was itself a reminder of the challenges and opportunities of cross-cultural communication. Yet the conversation was remarkably coherent, suggesting that the principles of good journalism—accuracy, fairness, respect—are universal, even if their application varies from place to place.
In the end, Amida’s message was a call for everyday professionalism rather than heroic gestures. The media’s contribution to social cohesion, he said, depends on routine editorial decisions: whose voices are heard, whether claims are verified, and how differences are explained. These decisions may seem small in isolation, but cumulatively they determine whether the public sphere is a place of trust or a battlefield of suspicion. “When those decisions are guided by accuracy, fairness and respect, the media do more than inform,” Amida concluded. “They help build the trust that allows dialogue to flourish.” That is perhaps the most important takeaway from the CICA Media Forum: trust is not a vague ideal but a practical outcome of countless small choices. In a world of deepfakes, viral misinformation, and algorithmically amplified anger, the need for such trust has never been greater. But the solutions are not mysterious. They lie in fact-checking, in context, in listening, and in the willingness to treat even those with whom we disagree as fellow human beings. Cambodia’s participation in the forum was a reminder that even smaller nations can offer leadership on these issues. By sharing its “Say No to Fake News” campaign, by calling for cross-border cooperation, and by insisting that media must do more than inform, Cambodia contributed to a global conversation about the future of journalism. The forum ended with no grand declaration, no binding resolution. But it left participants with a shared sense of purpose. The road ahead is difficult, and no single meeting can resolve the tensions of a polarized world. But conversations like the one in Baku matter. They create space for shared understanding, remind journalists of their responsibilities, and affirm that the values of accuracy, fairness, and respect remain the foundation of any society that hopes to hold itself together. That may be the most realistic hope for a polarized world: not that we will all agree, but that we will keep talking, keep verifying, and keep treating each other with respect. As Amida put it, that is how dialogue flourishes—and how trust is built, one story at a time.