Writing from prison: journalism in Europe's prisons

The issue of censorship remains central. In several recent cases - from Ivrea to Trento, from Lodi to Rebibbia - prison administrations have imposed stringent conditions: unsigned articles, prior reading of the contents, the possibility of blocking texts judged 'inappropriate'. In 2023, in Ivrea, the prison director subordinated the continuation of the magazine L'Alba to precisely these clauses.

According to Scandurra, when a stable and trusting relationship is established between the editorial staff and the prison administration, initial fears tend to diminish and even censorship practices are gradually overcome. On the contrary, where this mutual knowledge is lacking, censorship tends to persist, fuelled by the fear of losing control over the internal and external narrative of the prison.

It is no coincidence that Giovanni Maria Flick, president emeritus of the Constitutional Court, has publicly expressed 'concern' about measures that impose or prohibit the publication of articles written by prisoners or provide for their prior reading. In April 2025, more than twenty Italian prison magazines sent an open letter to the Ministry of Justice asking for respect for freedom of expression, greater access to digital technologies and a formal recognition of the work carried out by information volunteers.

For prisoners, participating in a publishing project meets several needs. On the one hand, the need to communicate and give shape to their needs; on the other hand, the possibility to tell their stories beyond the dimension of emergency or immediate claim. According to Scandurra, prison journalism also allows prisoners to talk about broader social issues, often offering original and authentic readings. It is precisely the direct experience of marginality that makes it possible, for example, to interpret phenomena such as baby gangs or juvenile deviance with a less stereotyped view than that of the traditional media.

These experiences also function as training places: not only for those who write from prison, but also for professional journalists who enter institutions. Newsrooms become spaces of exchange between inside and outside, laboratories where technical skills, teamwork and editorial responsibility are learned.

In Europe, the models are very different. In Spain, La Voz del Patio, the newspaper of the Burgos prison, represents an almost unique case. Born in 2019, it is a 24-page print publication with a circulation of 7,000 copies, also distributed in bars and shops in the city. The editorial staff consists of nine inmates supported by four professional journalists. "Here there are people who have done wrong and whom society tends to exclude, but they remain part of society," explains Víctor Cámara, educator and coordinator of the project, emphasising the value of the newspaper as a reintegration tool.

In Greece, however, the experience is much more limited. Only the juvenile prison of Avlona has a regular newspaper, produced not by the prison administration but by the Second Chance School within the institution. It is precisely this 'school' location that guarantees broad freedom of expression. The newspaper is produced entirely by the students-prisoners, with the pedagogical support of the teachers, and has also hosted an interview with the President of the Republic, with questions chosen by the boys themselves.

At the opposite extreme is Hungary, where the Börtönújság (Prison Newspaper), founded in 1898, is an institutional publication, written mainly by prison staff. With 48 pages and a circulation of 3,000 copies, the newspaper has a strong informational and educational slant: rights and duties, training programmes, regulatory changes, religious life and cultural activities. Again, the declared objective is reintegration, but the prisoners' space for narrative autonomy remains limited.

In France, prison journalism finds one of its most radical expressions in L'Envolée, a militant newspaper produced on the outside but fed by letters and testimonies coming from prisons. "L'Envolée wants to be a sounding board for prisoners struggling against their fate," reads the presentation of the project, which claims independence from the control of the prison administration. Alongside this experience, the International Prison Observatory publishes Dedans Dehors, a professional journalistic publication that combines journalistic investigation and networking with prisoners and families.

Prison journalism moves in a space that the institutions view with suspicion: on the one hand, the way the prison is told outside; on the other, the circulation of information inside the institutions. Yet, as Scandurra observes, these experiences are the fruit of daily battles carried out by associations and volunteers, and they only survive thanks to the quality of the work they do.

The main limitation remains structural: without the initiative of someone 'from the outside' willing to enter, build relationships and take responsibility, many newsrooms would never come into being. But it is precisely in this fragile space that prison journalism shows its strength: reminding us that prisons are not a separate world, but a part of society, and that reporting on it also means questioning what happens on this side of the bars.

*This article is part of the European collaborative journalism project "Pulse" and was contributed by Francesco Berto (OBCT, Italy), Lola García-Ajofrín (El Confidencial, Spain), Giota Tessi (Efsyn, Greece) and Laszlo Arato (EUrologus/HVG, Hungary)