In an era where power rewrites the tale,

Truth is constructed, allowed to derail.

Where scrutiny fades and inquiry is chained,

And the press is controlled, its reach constrained.

Once the cornerstone of holding the line,

Now caught between influence and decline.

 

But how does one call it “press freedom” when inquiry is restrained?

When scrutiny is silenced, when dissent is reframed?

When the pursuit of truth is labeled a threat,

Is the cost of integrity exile or regret?

 

The press is not strong when forced to obey,

Its power lies in what it must say.

Yet words are censored, their impact restrained,

And discourse crumbles, its essence drained.

Shall we accept distortion for comfort’s sake?

Or fight for the stories they seek to unmake?

 

Every photograph is more than a frame—it is a wound torn open, refusing to be ignored.

Every word is more than ink on paper—it is a reckoning that leaves us floored.

The choice is clear—let barriers break,

Let voices rise and silence shake.

For without the press, there is no light, And without truth, no wrong becomes right.

 

Ladies and gentlemen, we present to you the final committee to be simulated at SAJMUN’25:

The International Press (IP)

 

This May,

Defend the truth, demand the truth, deliver the truth.

This May,

Conceive. Concur. Convince.​