Newspapers remain influential up to now, even if their readership and credibility are diminishing.

IT USED to be, and in many places it still is, that newspapers had great respect for their readers. They saw them not primarily as consumers, but as engaged citizens, caring members of communities, and individuals interested not just in themselves but also in a better world. Newspapers have a history, and this history has for a long time defined how they perceive themselves.

From the beginning, newspapers were seen as crucial to democracy. Since the 18th century, Enlightenment theorists had argued that publicity and openness provide the best protection against tyranny and the excesses of arbitrary rule. In the early 1700s, the French political philosopher Montesquieu, raging against the secret accusations delivered by Palace courtiers to the French king, prescribed publicity as the cure for the abuse of power. English and American thinkers later in that century would agree with Montesquieu, recognizing the importance of the press in making officials aware of the public's discontents and allowing governments to rectify their errors.

Since then, the notion of the press, especially of newspapers, as watchdog has become deeply ingrained. The influence of Enlightenment thinkers — who saw newspapers as the conduit between governors and the governed — persists to this day. Newspapers are the arena for public debate: they are town hall and public forum, making possible informed discussion that leads in turn to more accountable and intelligent governance.

They were also tools for liberation. The struggle for nationhood in the Philippines, as in many other former colonies, is bound to the history of newspapers. In the 1870s, students, like Jose Rizal's older brother Paciano, who were then studying in Manila, disseminated copies of anti-colonial newspapers, on occasion by hiding them beneath piles of hay and transporting them on horse-drawn carts. The tradition of clandestine newspapers is very strong in the Philippines, dating back to this era and continuing to the present.

General Emilio Aguinaldo, the provincial caudillo who wrested control of the Philippine Revolution, was also a strong believer in newspapers. When fleeing the Americans with what remained of his ragtag army, Aguinaldo carried with him a small press, from which was printed the newsletter of the revolution. At one point, he wrote a directive to his troops, instructing them to transport copies of the revolutionary papers on horseback and to make sure the bundles of newspapers were wrapped in banana leaves so they would not get wet. Aguinaldo had faith that as long as Filipinos read the newspapers, they would continue to fight the colonizers and support the revolution.

This faith in the power of the printed word persisted throughout Philippine history — in the anti-American pamphlets of the early 20th century, the guerrilla newspapers published during the Japanese occupation, and the slew of underground publications during martial law.

For Filipinos, and for many others, the quest for freedom and democracy was inextricably linked to the printed word. The power that the post-Marcos media currently enjoys stems partly from the fact that the so-called mosquito press hounded Marcos out of power. In Indonesia, underground newspapers did the same to Soeharto in the late 1990s. In Thailand, newspapers took a stand against the military junta in 1992. Today, newspapers there remain the last bastion of free expression.

Nearly everywhere in postcolonial Asia, newspapers were builders of nation and community. They kept the conversation going among citizens, and between citizens and rulers in our countries. The newspaper was the nation talking to itself.

This is why, for the longest time, the wielders of the printed word have always viewed themselves as the representative of the people and the pursuer of those who deprive them of their rights and privileges. No other medium — not television, not the Internet, or SMS — has this tradition. Newspapers bear the weight of history. Whether they like it or not, they are the bearers of a legacy.