The writer
Who should draw the line between legitimate criticisms and hate speech in Ghana?
President John Dramani Mahama’s directive to the Ghana Journalists Association (GJA) and Media Foundation for West Africa (MFWA) opens a national debate on harmful speech. But Ghana’s Constitution already provides an institution whose mandate places it at the heart of that conversation: the National Media Commission (NMC).
There is a question beneath Ghana’s increasingly combustible public conversation that has become impossible to avoid:
When does legitimate criticism become hate speech?
Is it when a politician is insulted?
When a journalist is called a liar?
When an ethnic group is stereotyped?
When a religious community is vilified?
When a social-media post goes viral?
Or only when words cross the threshold into threats, incitement or a serious and foreseeable risk of harm?
President John Dramani Mahama has now asked the GJA and the MFWA to help Ghana find an answer.
In a September 22, 2026 letter, the Presidency directed the two organisations to convene a national stakeholder engagement on hate speech, abusive online content and responsible digital communication, and to develop a roadmap for addressing the problem.
The proposed engagement is expected to involve the NMC, Ghana Police Service, civil society, traditional media organisations, bloggers, influencers, content creators, legal and human-rights experts, digital platforms and other relevant institutions.
But there is a constitutional question that deserves to be placed much more prominently at the centre of this exercise:
Should the National Media Commission be merely one participant in the process—or should it occupy the central institutional role?
The answer matters. Because Ghana’s Constitution does not leave the country’s media governance architecture undefined. It creates the NMC. And it gives it a specific constitutional mandate.
The institution already written into the Constitution
Chapter 12 of the 1992 Constitution begins with a powerful declaration: “The freedom and independence of the media are hereby guaranteed.”
Article 162 prohibits censorship and protects media organisations from governmental interference over their editorial opinions and views. But the Constitution does not stop at protecting media freedom. It creates an institution specifically designed to help safeguard it.
Article 166 establishes the National Media Commission. And Article 167 spells out its functions. Among them is the responsibility: to promote and ensure the freedom and independence of the media; to take appropriate measures to ensure the highest journalistic standards; to investigate, mediate and settle complaints made against or by the press or other mass media; and to perform other functions prescribed by law consistent with the Constitution.
Article 172 then provides an additional safeguard: the Commission is not subject to the direction or control of any person or authority in the performance of its functions.
That constitutional architecture is highly relevant to the present debate. Because the challenge before Ghana is not simply how to suppress harmful speech. It is how to create a system that can simultaneously:
Protect freedom of expression, maintain professional standards, provide redress for abuses, and prevent the State from becoming the ultimate arbiter of permissible criticism.
That is precisely where the NMC’s constitutional role becomes difficult to ignore.
The NMC should not be an afterthought
The Presidency’s directive is appropriately broad. But the architecture of the proposed process may need reconsideration.
The GJA represents journalists.
The MFWA has considerable expertise in media freedom and human rights.
Both have legitimate and important roles. But neither possesses the constitutional mandate of the National Media Commission. The NMC does. This does not mean that the GJA or MFWA should be displaced. Quite the opposite.
The strongest arrangement may be one in which the NMC provides the constitutional and institutional leadership, while the GJA, MFWA, media houses, civil society, lawyers, academics, technology platforms, bloggers and content creators contribute expertise and practical perspectives.
That would make the process broader than a media-industry discussion. It would make it a constitutional conversation about freedom of expression and accountability. And that distinction matters.
The problem is bigger than “hate speech”
Ghana’s debate has sometimes been reduced to one question: How do we stop hate speech?
That is too narrow. The country is actually dealing with a cluster of related but distinct problems: hate speech, incitement, threats, misinformation, disinformation, defamation, abusive communication, political insults, ethnic and religious stereotyping, online harassment, And legitimate criticism.
These categories should not be collapsed into one.
Calling a government’s economic policy disastrous is criticism.
Calling a minister incompetent may be insulting, but that alone does not automatically make it hate speech.
Publishing a false allegation may raise questions of defamation or misinformation.
Encouraging people to attack a community because of its ethnicity is an entirely different matter.
A credible threat against an individual is different again.
If Ghana gets these distinctions wrong, the consequences could be serious.
The danger of defining criticism as hate speech
There is an uncomfortable reality that must be confronted. Every government has an interest in reducing criticism of itself.
That does not mean every government will abuse speech laws. It means the institutional framework must be designed on the assumption that political power can change hands.
A law or regulatory mechanism that appears harmless when your preferred political party controls government can become considerably less comfortable when the opposition takes power. That is why the rules must be bigger than the government of the day. The Constitution’s protection of media freedom exists partly for precisely this reason.
Article 162 says media freedom and independence are guaranteed and prohibits governmental interference with editorial opinions and views. Any new hate-speech framework must therefore be built around an uncomfortable principle: The government must not become the final judge of whether criticism of the government is legitimate.
Ghana already has a warning from its own recent experience
The urgency of this conversation is heightened by Ghana’s recent disputes over speech-related arrests and prosecutions.
The MFWA has repeatedly criticized what it calls the criminalization of speech, particularly the use of Section 208 of the Criminal Offences Act and Section 76 of the Electronic Communications Act.
The organization argues that civil remedies, including rejoinders, NMC processes and civil defamation actions, should generally be preferred where the issue is reputational injury rather than genuinely criminal conduct.
The MFWA has also expressed concern that proposed legislation dealing with misinformation, disinformation and hate speech could use definitions broad enough to capture legitimate disagreement or dissent.
These are the MFWA’s positions and should be distinguished from settled judicial findings. But they demonstrate why the new national dialogue cannot simply be about creating more offences. It must also examine whether Ghana is already using the right institutions and remedies for different categories of speech. And that brings the NMC directly into the centre of the debate.
Why the NMC may be the missing piece
Imagine a system in which every complaint about media content automatically becomes a police matter. The incentive would be obvious. If someone dislikes an investigation, attack or allegation, the easiest response could become: “Report the journalist.” That would be dangerous.
But imagine a system in which a credible independent institution can receive the complaint, examine the content, hear both sides, determine whether professional standards were breached, facilitate a response or correction, and reserve criminal matters for the appropriate state institutions. That is closer to the constitutional role contemplated for the NMC.
Article 167 expressly gives the Commission responsibility for the investigation, mediation and settlement of complaints made against or by the press or other mass media. The implication is important.
Before Ghana reaches for the criminal law, there may be circumstances in which the country’s constitutional media-regulation architecture should be given the opportunity to work. That does not mean the NMC should replace the courts or police. It means Ghana should distinguish between a professional media dispute, a civil dispute, an ethical violation, and genuinely criminal conduct.
But what about bloggers and influencers?
Here lies the complication. The Constitution’s media framework predates TikTok, YouTube, Facebook, X and the modern creator economy. The person with the largest audience in a particular Ghanaian community may not work for a newspaper, radio station or television network.
A blogger can reach hundreds of thousands.
A social-media personality can shape political narratives.
A WhatsApp message can circulate through thousands of phones before anyone verifies it.
So the national framework must answer a difficult question: How much of the traditional media regulatory philosophy can legitimately be applied to the digital creator?
The answer should not automatically be to bring everyone under a heavy state regulatory regime. But neither should digital reach mean total immunity from accountability. This is where the NMC-led process could become particularly valuable.
It could bring traditional media, digital creators, platforms, lawyers, civil society and the public around the same table and develop a framework based on conduct and impact rather than simply the occupational label of the speaker.
Kenya has tried a different institutional route
Kenya’s experience is instructive because it has confronted the relationship between political speech, ethnicity and social cohesion for years.
Its Constitution protects freedom of expression while excluding propaganda for war, incitement to violence and advocacy of hatred that amounts to ethnic incitement, vilification or incitement to cause harm.
The country also created the National Cohesion and Integration Commission to investigate and address hate-speech concerns. There is a lesson here for Ghana: The response to harmful speech need not begin with the police.
There can be specialist institutions, complaint mechanisms and graduated responses. But Kenya also shows that institutions are only as effective as their independence, resources and public credibility. Ghana should therefore ask not only:
“What should be illegal?” but: “Who should decide when the threshold has been crossed?”
South Africa shows the importance of carefully drawn definitions
South Africa has pursued legislation specifically addressing hate crimes and hate speech. The Prevention and Combating of Hate Crimes and Hate Speech Act was assented to by President Cyril Ramaphosa in 2024.
But the South African approach is significant because it recognizes that legitimate expression must be distinguished from unlawful hate speech. Certain forms of good-faith artistic, academic, scientific and public-interest expression receive protection under the framework.
South Africa’s experience demonstrates that legislation can attempt to draw distinctions. But it also demonstrates that the work does not end when Parliament passes a law. Definitions, regulations, enforcement and institutional safeguards matter just as much.
Nigeria provides another warning
Nigeria’s experience demonstrates the danger of relying heavily on criminal and cybersecurity laws to regulate online expression.
The country’s debate has repeatedly raised concerns about whether provisions designed to protect public safety can also be used against journalists, activists and critics.
The lesson for Ghana is not that Nigeria has no legitimate interest in combating harmful online conduct. It clearly does. The lesson is that the broader the offence, the greater the need for independent oversight and precise thresholds.
Rwanda presents the ultimate institutional warning
Rwanda’s experience is shaped by circumstances fundamentally different from Ghana’s, particularly its history of genocide and ethnic violence. That history makes the dangers of incitement very real. But the country’s restrictive environment for political expression also demonstrates why safeguards are necessary.
The lesson is simple:
A state can begin with a legitimate objective—protecting society from dangerous speech—and end up with a framework that also constrains legitimate political expression if sufficient safeguards are absent. Ghana must ensure that does not happen.
The NMC should convene the difficult conversation
This is where the current process could be significantly strengthened. The President has asked the GJA and MFWA to develop the framework. They should do so. But the National Media Commission should arguably be placed at the centre of the institutional architecture. Not because the NMC has all the answers. It does not.
But because the Constitution has already given it a role at the intersection of: media freedom, journalistic standards, complaints, mediation, media accountability, and independence from governmental control.
The GJA brings the voice of journalists. The MFWA brings expertise in media freedom and human rights. The Police bring the law-enforcement perspective. The judiciary brings the constitutional and legal interpretation. Civil society brings the citizen perspective. Digital platforms bring technological expertise. Bloggers and content creators bring the reality of the new media environment. But the NMC can provide the constitutional institutional anchor.
A possible new model for Ghana
The outcome of the national process should perhaps not be another broad law against “bad speech.” Instead, Ghana could develop a National Framework on Responsible Public and Digital Communication, anchored in constitutional protections. It could establish clear categories.
CATEGORY ONE: Legitimate criticism
Political criticism, satire, commentary, investigative journalism, and dissent should receive the strongest protection.
CATEGORY TWO: Offensive but lawful expression
Speech may be crude, insulting or distasteful without necessarily becoming criminal.
The appropriate response may be public rebuttal, counter speech or professional accountability.
CATEGORY THREE: Misinformation and disputed claims
The response should emphasize verification, correction, right of reply and appropriate civil or regulatory remedies, depending on the circumstances.
CATEGORY FOUR: Defamation and reputational injury
Civil remedies and NMC mediation should be available where applicable.
CATEGORY FIVE: Threats and incitement
Where the legal threshold is met, law-enforcement intervention becomes appropriate.
CATEGORY SIX: Serious identity-based hate speech
Speech that crosses into legally defined incitement, advocacy of violence or serious harm should attract appropriate sanctions.
The critical point is that the categories must not be allowed to collapse into one another.
The NMC could also become the first line of redress
One of the most useful outcomes of this process would be to strengthen public confidence in the NMC’s complaint and mediation functions.
A citizen who believes a media house has wronged them should have somewhere to go.
A journalist who believes a powerful individual is trying to silence legitimate reporting should also have somewhere to go.
A media house accused of irresponsible reporting should have an opportunity to defend itself.
And where a correction, rejoinder or mediation can resolve the issue that should happen before the police are invited into the dispute. This would not weaken law enforcement. It would allow the police and courts to concentrate on conduct that genuinely requires criminal intervention.
The political test remains the hardest
There is one test that should be applied to every proposal emerging from this process: Would we accept this rule if the political party we dislike most were in power?
If the answer is no, the rule needs more work. Ghana’s democratic institutions must be designed for governments we like—and governments we do not like. For presidents we support—and presidents we oppose.
For journalists whose reporting we admire—and journalists whose reporting infuriates us.
For bloggers we agree with—and bloggers we consider irresponsible.
That is what constitutional safeguards are for.
Seven things the national process should deliver
If the President’s directive is to produce something more consequential than another conference and communiqué, the process should deliver at least seven concrete outcomes.
- A precise national definition of hate speech. Not a vague definition based on whether somebody feels offended.
- Clear distinctions between hate speech, incitement, threats, misinformation, defamation and legitimate criticism.
- A graduated system of remedies. Not every breach should lead to arrest.
- A strengthened role for the National Media Commission in complaints, mediation and professional accountability.
- Clear guidelines for law-enforcement agencies. Police officers should not have to determine the boundaries of constitutional expression without clear standards.
- Specific safeguards against political interference and selective enforcement.
- A permanent multi-stakeholder mechanism, anchored by the NMC, to review emerging challenges in digital communication.
The last point may be particularly important.
Technology will continue changing. The law will always be behind it. Ghana therefore needs an institutionally credible mechanism capable of continuously examining the relationship between technology, speech and democracy.
The question is not whether Ghana should regulate speech
The real question is how. A society cannot simply declare that every form of expression is acceptable.
Threats matter.
Incitement matters.
Violence matters.
Deliberate mobilization of hatred against communities matters.
But neither can Ghana build a democracy in which citizens constantly wonder whether their criticism of the government, a politician, a religion, an institution, or a powerful individual could result in a knock on the door from the police. That is the line that must be protected.
And perhaps the most important question arising from President Mahama’s directive is therefore not: “How do we stop hate speech?”
It is “How do we build a system that can confront genuinely dangerous speech without giving political power the ability to define criticism as dangerous?”
The Constitution already provides part of the answer. It created an independent National Media Commission. It gave that Commission responsibility for protecting media freedom, promoting professional standards and handling complaints. It insulated the Commission from direction or control in the performance of its constitutional functions.
The current national debate should therefore not treat the NMC as another name on a stakeholder invitation list. It should ask the NMC to step into the constitutional space that was created for precisely this kind of challenge.
The GJA and MFWA should be important partners. The police, courts, civil society, digital platforms, journalists, bloggers and content creators should all have a voice.
But the institutional centre of gravity should be clear. Because if Ghana is going to draw a new line around speech, that line should not be drawn by the government of the day. It should be drawn through a transparent, constitutional, and independent process.
And the institution constitutionally mandated to stand at the intersection of media freedom and media accountability should be at the heart of that process.
That institution is the National Media Commission.
By Samuel Attah-Mensah