Journalism of courage has always been the leitmotif running through the history of this great newspaper. Much before The Indian Express chose to deliver this promise of fearless, uncompromising journalism—what the ad world calls the “tagline”—this was all its founder demanded of people who worked for him. Solidly inscribed into our DNA, the practice of this promise evolved with the times. So during the freedom movement, journalism of courage meant Express fighting the British when many other, richer, and apparently more powerful newspapers would rather side with the sahibs. During Quit India, it meant suspending publication rather than accepting censorship. A front-page editorial late Ram Nath Goenka wrote then—one of the rarest of rare occasions when he put his name in his newspaper—sets the agenda for us even today and for all times to come. Headlined “Heart Strings and Purse Strings,” it explained why he would prefer to suspend publication and take losses rather than accept the idea of censorship of a colonial power. A little over three decades later, the same principle was to come handy when time came to resist censorship—and worse—from our own government of the day, during the Emergency. As his forthcoming biography by this newspaper’s former, and highly respected editor B G Verghese (to be released by Penguin in October this year) will tell you, Ram Nath Goenka never used the power of his newspaper. He always believed that an institution like this was not to be an instrument of power in his hands, but a medium of empowerment for the people of his nation. Truth, knowledge, impartial and accurate information, he believed, were instruments of empowerment. For, these enabled the citizen to ask the right questions, denied the rulers the luxury of avoiding having to give answers and bridged the gap between people and the establishment. The idea evolved with the times. I was a journalism student during the Emergency and, after the shock of the first three months was over, you knew which papers had the spine to stand up for their beliefs, which ones did not. On my campus, as I am sure in many others, this is when the Express made its mark. Soon, as you began to scan the the Express for flashes of defiance, sometimes open, like blank spaces in place of editorials that censors had stopped, and sometimes clever, like a tiny obituary in the Classifieds that moaned the “death of liberty, mother of hope, faith and justicia,” it was easy to see why this paper was different.