FEATUREDOpinion

Mohammad Alamullah

Date:

September 21, 2026

If Muslims want the world to understand Islam accurately, they cannot depend entirely on others to tell their story. They must learn to tell it themselves so with knowledge, wisdom, and integrity

MANY Muslims believe mainstream media has played a real part in shaping negative perceptions of Islam, and that this hostile framing continues unabated. There is genuine evidence behind this concern. But the argument does not stop here. Even when a broadcaster says nothing directly critical of Islam, it still pushes plenty of content into homes worldwide that many religious communities, not just Muslims, would regard as corrosive: casual promiscuity, sensationalism, misinformation, vulgarity, and the normalisation of behaviour that conflicts with traditional moral values.

That content is not necessarily aimed at Muslims. It can still run counter to Islamic teaching, though, and Islamic tradition assigns Muslims a specific duty to “enjoin good and forbid wrong.” The Qur’an (3:104) says: “And let there be among you a community inviting to all that is good, enjoining what is right and forbidding what is wrong. It is they who will be successful.” Extend that duty to media, and you get the argument this piece makes.

Looking at today’s media through that lens, three things stand out:

1.   Media has played an important role, in this view, in casting Islam in a negative light.

2.   Media spreads content many regard as morally corrosive more broadly.

3.   Muslims need to make more active use of media themselves.

Plenty has already been written on the first point, so this piece focuses on the second and third. Almost everyone relies on media in some form now. It brings real benefits: information delivered in an engaging, accessible, and immediate way. It also, on this account, normalises behaviour many Muslims see as harmful. Staying quiet about that amounts to tacit acceptance, the argument goes. A more active response means answering misrepresentation head-on, not just avoiding wrongdoing yourself. Doing that takes an independent way of reaching people. Today, that means media in all its forms, especially electronic and digital media, which is what the rest of this piece is about.

A quick definition first. “Media” here means gathering and distributing information, and it comes in two broad kinds:

1.   Print media: daily newspapers, monthly magazines, journals, books, and other printed material.

2.   Electronic and digital media: radio, television, cinema, the internet, social media, podcasts, streaming platforms, video-sharing services, and other formats.

Print media works best for regular readers. Electronic media reaches people regardless of literacy, which is one reason it overtook print in influence. Today, digital media has gone even further: people increasingly receive information through smartphones, social-media feeds, short-form videos, podcasts, livestreams, and recommendation systems. This piece argues that as electronic and digital media spread worldwide, they became part of a fight over whose story gets told: whatever a given power structure saw as a threat to its own interests, it could work to discredit. Islam, in this reading, was often treated as exactly that kind of threat, because it does not compromise on what its adherents consider moral wrongs, unlike more permissive worldviews. You do not have to accept that specific framing to recognise the broader claim underneath it. Media narratives are shaped by whose interests they serve, not just by facts. That is a familiar point in media criticism generally; this essay applies it to Islam and Muslims specifically.

For more than three decades, the world has been under an intensifying wave of electronic and digital media that has reshaped social and moral norms along the way, and that wave has accelerated dramatically since this piece was first written in 2013. Television and cinema have been joined, and in many households partly overtaken, by smartphones, social media, streaming platforms, podcasts, and algorithm-driven recommendation systems. Hollywood has faced criticism for decades, including from film scholars and media-watch groups, for stereotyping Muslims and Arabs as villains, threats, or sources of political violence. In the last two decades of the 20th century, years before the September 11, 2001 attacks, Hollywood released several films critics point to as examples of this pattern, including Delta Force, The Siege, and Air Force One. Since 2013, social media and streaming have added new wrinkles. Algorithm-driven recommendation systems can amplify sensational or divisive content about Muslims simply because it drives engagement. At the same time, those same platforms have given Muslim creators, scholars, journalists, filmmakers, and educators the ability to reach global audiences directly, without needing a television network’s approval. That opportunity did not exist at anything like today’s scale in 2013.

Recurring Pattern

Critics of Western media point to a recurring pattern: insulting cartoons published in some European newspapers, films made in the Netherlands attacking the Qur’an and Islamic symbols, and news coverage in which words such as “terrorist,” “jihadist,” and “fundamentalist” can sometimes colour perceptions of ordinary Muslims when they are used too broadly or without sufficient context. They argue that Western outlets periodically frame Muslims through these labels in ways that go beyond reporting on actual extremism and end up colouring how ordinary Muslims are seen. At the same time, fairness requires Muslims to distinguish between legitimate reporting on terrorism or extremism and genuinely prejudicial coverage. The issue is not whether the media should report crimes committed by Muslims; it should. The issue is whether the same standards are consistently applied to everyone.

Some who make this argument connect it to a wider critique of consumer capitalism. They see contemporary secular culture as having swapped religious and moral value for market value, where a person’s or an idea’s worth comes down mainly to commercial utility, popularity, visibility, or profit, and where ideals like human rights and free expression can sometimes be invoked selectively rather than applied consistently. On this reading, recurring economic and social crises are symptoms of a deeper crisis in values, and media’s power to shape public narrative is one of the system’s most effective tools. Here it is apt to quote the Urdu poet Mirza Ghalib: “Kuchh na tha to Khuda tha, kuchh na hota to Khuda hota; duboya mujh ko hone ne, na hota main to kya hota.” — “When nothing existed, God existed; had nothing existed, God would still have existed. My existence has drowned me; if I had not existed, what would have happened?” These lines are not directly about modern media, but the essay applies Ghalib’s broader poetry of appearance, existence, and illusion to a media world in which what is visible is not necessarily the whole truth.

The essay applies that broader idea to today’s media. We are often taught that media’s job is to inform the public and report facts. This piece argues that today’s media can sometimes do the opposite: obscure or distort facts, spread falsehoods, or give greater prominence to material that misleads and provokes rather than informs. The problem is not that every journalist or every media organisation behaves this way; such a claim would be impossible to sustain. The concern is that commercial incentives, political interests, competition for attention, and algorithmic systems can reward sensationalism over accuracy. The Qur’an (49:6) warns believers about the consequences of spreading unverified information: “O you who believe, if a sinful person brings you any news, verify it, lest you harm a people out of ignorance and then become regretful for what you have done.” The principle is especially relevant in 2026, when a misleading post, edited video, fabricated quotation, or AI-generated image can reach millions before the original facts are checked.

It contrasts this with an Islamic worldview built on faith in the unseen, arguing that secular culture can sometimes insist that people accept only what is directly observable, while Islamic belief recognises realities beyond immediate observation. The concern is that when moral restraint is weakened and media becomes a commercial competition for attention primarily, control over what people see can increasingly fall into the hands of interests with little concern for spiritual or moral consequences. This does not mean that technology or media itself is inherently evil. The same tools can educate, expose injustice, strengthen communities, spread knowledge, and bring people closer to truth. The question is how these tools are used, who controls them, what incentives drive them, and what values guide their use.

Misrepresentation Galore

From there, the essay concludes that today’s media, tied closely as it often is to political, commercial, and technological interests, can do considerable harm to ordinary audiences and can be particularly harmful to religious minorities when they are repeatedly misrepresented. The original essay offered a rough estimate rather than a sourced figure, suggesting that only about ten per cent of relevant media content was fair or accurate. That figure should not be presented as a fact. The stronger argument is that even a relatively small amount of consistently repeated bias can have a significant effect when it reaches millions of people. The level of Muslim engagement with this problem therefore remains a serious concern—not because Muslims have no media presence, but because their presence is still often fragmented, reactive, and less institutionally coordinated than it could be.

Muslims, in this view, have a responsibility to organise a response to what the essay frames as a broader pattern of harm: one that can defame Islam while also normalising incivility, sensationalism, humiliation, and the erosion of social and moral norms more widely. Here are the essay’s own examples of the media conduct it has in mind.

1. Here’s the pattern. If a bomb blast happens, news channels may quickly run through a list of Islamist organisations or possible Islamist connections before the facts are fully established. If it turns out that a Hindu nationalist or another non-Muslim extremist group carried out the attack, the story may receive a different kind of framing.

An ordinary Muslim man with four wives may be presented primarily through the lens of moral failure, while a well-known non-Muslim public figure with multiple affairs may receive comparatively sympathetic or even celebratory treatment. A Muslim arrested on a serious charge may be linked in headlines or commentary to terrorist organisations before the case has been established. If it later turns out that the charges were false and he is cleared, that correction may receive a fraction of the original attention. Conversely, if the actual perpetrator turns out to be non-Muslim, the fact may sometimes receive less prominence than it would have received had the perpetrator been Muslim. The cumulative effect, on this account, can contribute to a global impression that terrorism and Muslim identity go hand in hand. Muslim responses to this pattern, the essay adds, have traditionally appeared largely in Urdu-language newspapers, magazines, community meetings, and other spaces with a predominantly Muslim readership, reaching far fewer people outside the community than the original accusations.

2. Reality and talk shows built around domestic conflict are another target. Programmes dramatising arguments between women, or escalating disputes between spouses, often claim to expose social problems or discourage such behaviour. The essay argues that the way these programmes are staged can instead normalise conflict because ratings and online engagement reward sensational content over restraint. Some who make this critique connect such behaviour to the Qur’anic concept of spreading corruption in the land. The Qur’an (5:33) says: “The punishment of those who wage war against Allah and His Messenger and strive to spread corruption in the land is that they be killed, crucified, have their hands and feet cut off on opposite sides, or be exiled from the land. That is a disgrace for them in this world, and they will have a great punishment in the Hereafter.” The verse is cited here as part of an ethical discussion about the seriousness with which Islamic tradition treats social corruption, not as a suggestion that individuals should impose any punishment themselves. The essay also points to programmes and serials that show nudity and sexual content openly, sometimes reaching children, and to “reality courtroom” formats that publicise private disputes such as divorces and family conflicts under the banner of “delivering justice.” Public humiliation, it argues, is not a necessary feature of justice.

3. Children’s programming, especially, has played a role in pulling children’s religious and moral outlook away from their parents’ own tradition. It is a concern, in different forms, that many religious communities have about mainstream media in general. It cites a Hadith recorded in Sahih al-Bukhari: “Every child is born upon the fitrah, then his parents make him a Jew, a Christian, or a Magian.” Classical commentators have discussed the meaning of fitrah in different ways, but the Hadith draws attention to the powerful influence of upbringing and environment. The essay cites it to make a simple point: children absorb far more from what they watch and hear than parents often realise. That applies to Muslim households too. In 2013, television was the main concern. In 2026, the challenge is much broader: YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, streaming services, online games, influencers, short-form videos, group chats, and personalised recommendation algorithms can all contribute to a child’s media environment. Parents therefore need to pay attention not only to what children are watching but also to the wider digital environment shaping their assumptions, values, language, heroes, and understanding of the world.

Muslims, in this view, need to spread their own message more actively: present an accurate picture of their faith, and answer misrepresentation publicly instead of doing it only within the community. Some might say this is already happening, and in a sense it certainly is. Answers do get given, and da’wah—the effort to explain and communicate the faith—continues on an enormous scale. There are now Muslim scholars, journalists, filmmakers, educators, podcasters, YouTubers, and digital creators reaching audiences of millions. But much of the response can still be fragmented, personality-driven, or directed primarily toward people who already agree. The analogy it offers remains useful: a student answers an exam correctly but hands the answer sheet to the wrong class. Technically right, but seen by no one who is grading it. The accusation arrives via electronic media, reaching millions. The response gets confined to venues reaching a much smaller audience. In 2026, the problem is no longer simply a lack of access to media; it is the need to understand how to use modern media professionally and strategically.

Loose Connection

It is not to dispute that gatherings, sermons, and informal conversations have real value. Many Muslims say that sharing these responses with non-Muslim acquaintances does clear up misunderstandings. But it points out that countless people have no Muslim acquaintances at all, and that plenty of Muslims are themselves only loosely connected to Islamic teaching and practice. What’s been done, the essay asks, to reach people whose only exposure to Islam comes through a distorted portrayal on mainstream television, radio, social media, films, or online commentary—exposure that in some cases makes people reluctant to engage with Muslims at all? Its recommendation is a coordinated media strategy rather than an ad hoc one: dedicated institutes to train media professionals, sustained investment from religious and civic organisations, and homegrown television drama, film, documentary, animation, and digital content drawing on Islamic history and culture instead of copying Western formats uncritically. Iran’s film industry gets cited as one example worth studying, having produced internationally recognised films while working within its own cultural and religious environment. The broader lesson is not to imitate Iran politically or culturally, but to recognise that strong storytelling can emerge from a distinctive cultural framework.

The essay also argues that provocations and insults to Islamic symbols in print or on screen are sometimes designed to test how the Muslim World reacts. When the response is primarily street protest rather than an organised media counter-response, it argues, that can reinforce the impression that provocation produces more attention than persuasion. Its recommendation is to build real media capacity and an organised response rather than relying on demonstrations alone. A peaceful protest may have a legitimate place, but it should not be the only tool available. A serious response could include well-researched articles, interviews, documentaries, public debates, educational campaigns, legal action where appropriate, and high-quality creative work that reaches audiences far beyond the Muslim community.

Muslim organisations in Muslim-majority countries and in the West, the essay argues, have historically worked in a far more limited sphere in media compared with the scale at which powerful states, corporations, and Western institutions have used modern communications to advance their own interests globally. Its recommendation remains relevant, but the strategy needs to be updated. Muslim organisations, institutions, and movements should put a real budget behind media work, targeting not only television but also YouTube, social media, podcasts, streaming platforms, and emerging digital media. They should establish production houses capable of training anchors, producers, scriptwriters, camera operators, editors, photographers, documentary makers, graphic designers, social-media managers, and digital content creators. When this was first written, that was framed as a project for the following decade. More than a decade on, the argument is if anything stronger because the barrier to reaching an audience has dropped while competition for attention has grown dramatically.

Shaping Public Debate

The essay calls for “media think tanks” in Muslim-majority countries, capable of engaging directly with Western media narratives. Its premise is that research institutions and advocacy organisations in the United States and Europe already play an important role in shaping public debates about Islam, terrorism, immigration, foreign policy, and religious freedom, so a comparable research and communications capacity is needed to put forward an alternative account of events. But such think tanks should not exist merely to label every negative report as propaganda. They should collect evidence, analyse patterns, distinguish genuine prejudice from legitimate criticism, monitor media language, study public opinion, provide journalists with credible experts, and issue rapid, documented responses when serious misinformation occurs. Credibility must be the foundation of any successful media strategy.

It also calls for better coordination. Those working in media across Muslim organisations and institutions are, it argues, often too scattered and under-resourced to have the effect they could have if they worked together. A recurring international media conference, on this account, could track progress and help develop a shared strategy. That coordination could go further through professional networks connecting journalists, filmmakers, scholars, researchers, producers, social-media specialists, technology experts, and digital creators across different countries. Such cooperation would not require everyone to hold the same political or theological opinions; the aim would be to improve professional standards, research, training, communication, and the ability to respond to major media narratives with evidence and competence.

The spread of electronic media and internet technology has indeed coincided with a decline in traditional reading in many societies. People now get information and entertainment through television, social media, streaming services, podcasts, and video platforms. The essay argues that the Muslim World, India included, needs to spread its message through modern technology via dedicated production houses. When this article was first written, satellite channels such as Peace TV were cited as examples of reaching large audiences. Such channels have since faced serious setbacks in some countries; Peace TV, for example, was banned from broadcasting in India in 2016. Islamic content overall has nevertheless moved decisively toward YouTube channels, podcasts, websites, and social-media accounts run by independent scholars and organisations, which can reach audiences directly without depending entirely on traditional television distribution. The recommendation now covers both: maintaining a presence in broadcast media where possible and, equally importantly, building resilient digital channels that can survive changes in platforms, regulation, algorithms, and technology.

In America and Europe, the essay notes, city-level public broadcasting centres and media-training initiatives have been established through government, educational, and NGO support, training people in anchoring, producing, script-writing, photography, editing, and other media skills. Similar centres, it argues, are needed in Muslim-majority countries and in Muslim communities elsewhere, India included, to produce professionals who can do the same job within their own communities. In the coming days, these centres should also teach podcast production, mobile journalism, documentary filmmaking, data journalism, social-media strategy, search optimisation, visual storytelling, AI-assisted production, digital verification, and media ethics. The objective should be to produce professionals who can compete internationally on quality rather than simply produce content for an internal audience.

The Way Foward

The essay closes by noting that while the Muslim World has not matched Western media’s technological and institutional reach, countries including Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Qatar, and Turkey have made significant progress, presenting Islamic teaching and Muslim perspectives through internet and television platforms. Since 2013, the media landscape has changed beyond recognition. The rise of smartphones, social platforms, streaming, creator culture, podcasts, artificial intelligence, and algorithmic recommendation systems has created hitherto non-existent opportunities.

Adequate use of modern media technology is still lacking overall, however, and Islamic movements, media institutions, Muslim organisations, scholars, professionals, and individual creators all have a role to play in closing that gap. The objective should not be to replace one form of propaganda with another, nor to demand that Muslims receive praise from the media. It should be to establish a stronger culture of truth, fairness, professional journalism, responsible communication, and compelling storytelling. If Muslims want the world to understand Islam accurately, they cannot depend entirely on others to tell their story. They must learn to tell it themselves—and do so with knowledge, wisdom, professionalism, creativity, and integrity.

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Mohammad Alamullah is a UK-based academic, author, and journalist, holding two Master’s degrees from Swansea University, UK, and Jamia Millia Islamia. He has authored three books: A Brief History of Muslim Majlis Mushawarat, Few Days in Iran, and Media: Paper to Screen — Scenarios, Problems and Possibilities. The views expressed are solely his own.

source https://clarionindia.net/muslims-and-the-media-a-case-for-fairer-coverage-and-a-stronger-voice/