Journalist Natig Javadli, who was arrested in connection with the “Meydan TV case,” writes from detention:
As I write these lines, there were only days left until the 55th spring of my life. For the second year already, I am spending my birthday in prison. I could not be with you on your birthdays either. In February 2025, I still cannot forget how Aychichek cried over the phone, saying: “Why do I have to spend my 25th birthday without you? Why was all this necessary? Society does not even know about you, and those whose complaints you brought attention to have already forgotten you…” And how you said, “We celebrate holidays and birthdays without you. Why did you make us go through this, Father?” Those questions still linger in my mind.
Children always ask difficult questions. But it is my duty to answer them. Of course, Aychichek’s protest was also influenced by the illegal actions of the police during the search of our home, which took place without the presence of my lawyer, Ms. Zibeyda.
Children, you probably remember that when I left home, I hugged your mother and you and said:
“Be kind, focus more on your studies, do not be afraid of these injustices, stay strong, and I expect successful results from your exams.” And these wishes came true. Aychichek entered her specialization program, Deniz got into university, and Turkel increased his sense of responsibility in his studies. Hearing this within the cold walls of Shuvalan strengthened me and increased my confidence. During my time in prison, I find strength and motivation in both books and your accomplishments.
My children, forgive me for the pain I caused you on the evening of December 6, 2024. But I will not forgive the tears of your grandmother and of you. I am sure that one day these tears will turn into tears of joy. However, there are things I will never forget. Let me list them.
When they brought me home, I asked the officers to remove their masks out of consideration for my elderly mother and for you, who were preparing for exams, but they refused. The same happened when I asked for my lawyer to be present. Their answer was that lawyers do not participate during special operations. My God, a special operation. I am astonished. In Azerbaijan, special operations against independent journalists have not stopped for years. The murder of Elmar Huseynov, the brutal beating of Bahaddin Haziyev, blocking of websites, and so much more.
Second, the officers asking your mother where the gold jewelry was. This question still rings in my ears. The answer was precise. There was nothing except her wedding ring, and your grandmother showed her earrings. Look, these are the government’s national and moral values. Bravo!
Third, they asked me whether I had a safe. It was ridiculous. I have been in journalism for 30 years, and I have never once thought about having a safe. I am not an official or a businessman.
Finally, my greatest loss that day was the confiscation of the archive I had built over years. The philosophical and historical books on my hard drive, my notes, and our family photos. According to my lawyer, all of it has been destroyed. As you know, the police took my two laptops, my phone, two voice recorders, a flash drive, and my hard disk. The latter contained the works of my teacher Asif Ata, including his books, essays, and interviews, as well as works by other philosophers, historians, and scholars from various fields. All of this was the result of years of labor.
What happened reminded me of the tragic fate of ancient manuscripts confiscated by the NKVD from Azerbaijani scholar Salman Mumtaz in the 1930s, which were later destroyed under workers’ feet during building renovations. Or the similar fate of Asif Ata’s diaries and writings confiscated by the KGB. The destruction of my archive by the Ministry of Internal Affairs is a continuation of that same policy.
How could these people understand what it means to love philosophy, history, and literature? For them, power and ambition outweigh everything.
Unfortunately, I will never be able to collect that archive again, and this pain will follow me for the rest of my life.
Children, you know that I do not accept your frequent claim that Azerbaijani society still does not understand the meaning of free speech and diversity of opinion, otherwise they would not remain so silent about my arrest. The issue is not what society understands or accepts. Society once silently watched as Nasimi was flayed and as Jan Hus was burned, even adding fuel to the fire. Society may not even know Seyid Azim, who was tortured and killed for calling people to education. Society might never learn of the Azerbaijani independence figures Rasulzade, Khoyski, Yusifbeyli, and Topchubashov, who were killed or died in exile longing for their homeland.
Yet they represent the people. They are the conscience of the people, and they listen to that conscience. The requirement isn’t that people should be aware of your actions. Rather, what matters is that you work with consistency, perseverance, and tireless effort. All of this is essential to prevent the conscience from falling into the slavery of darkness.
Create history within yourself and live by that history!
My children, I could have worked in pro government media. But then I would have had to become hollow, alien to my own essence, to my conscience. That alienation would have reduced me to an echo, ultimately to spiritual slavery. A person’s misery does not begin by bowing before others. It begins when one surrenders to one’s own lack of conscience, lies, flattery, and hypocrisy. That is why the hardest thing in the world is to face your own conscience. The difficult questions begin there, and you must endure the pain of being sincere.
Today, Azerbaijan is full of so called intellectual slaves. We hear their voices and see their faces every day. Being educated is important, but if you do not reflect on what you learn and grasp its meaning, your knowledge will remain superficial. For such people, questions like what is justice and what is freedom are frightening.
My children, I want to live by listening to my conscience, because we come into this world only once. Even if it is heavy and full of pain, it is also honorable. My sense of pride lies in this.
I love you, my children. Study, learn, understand the world, and make a dignified life your goal. Then you will love people too.
You have no greater joy than your burden!
Natig Javadli, Kurdakhani, March 5, 2026
