To the point: How free is our opinion - and for how long?

What at first seemed like a summer tribute to the glorious weather quickly turned out to be an involuntary staging of the topic of discussion: "How free are the media anymore?"

The first panel was supposed to be about freedom of the media and freedom of expression. And it was precisely this that the organizer and the local police considered to be in acute danger. One of the speakers was Jørn Mikkelsen, editor-in-chief of the Danish Jyllands-Posten, which had printed the Mohammed cartoons ten years ago. It was feared that Mikkelsen could become the target of an attack. And with him, the assembled Swiss media industry.

The night before, Bassem Youssef, a TV satirist from Egypt, had already appeared at the dinner without much notice. Youssef's show had been stopped in his home country after threats. The Swiss Media Forum apparently also feared trouble and played it safe.

As recently as January, the attack on Charlie Hebdo woke us up again, reminding us how permanently and acutely media people and anyone who openly expresses their opinions are threatened. Hate never sleeps. Nevertheless, Paris was somehow far away. Now all of a sudden: Switzerland, we are sitting on a liner on Lake Lucerne, with a lump in our throat. Yet nothing has happened at all. Nevertheless, the alarm bells are ringing.

Mikkelsen appears, a tall man with white skin, light blond hair and a soft voice. He talks about his everyday life: His workplace resembles a high-security wing, the editorial building of Jyllands-Posten is equipped with surveillance cameras, many managing editors and some cartoonists are constantly under police protection - certainly also he, even if he does not confirm this directly. In 2010, Jyllands-Posten cartoonist Kurt Westergaard narrowly escaped an attack because he was just able to escape to a specially secured emergency room and alert the police from there.

So the caution is not exaggerated. The threat is very close. Those who seek revenge have staying power. And anger has no statute of limitations. Mikkelsen's reaction to this state of affairs is "realism," as he calls it: "Not resignation, but dealing realistically with the situation, adapting one's actions to the threat of violence - because no cartoon is worth a human life. There's a fine line between freedom of expression and self-censorship." Is this a broken man standing before us?

Broken in this respect: journalistic euphoria, fighting spirit, the power of resistance are not to be felt in Mikkelsen. He is too burdened by the fact that the publication of the Muhammad cartoons cost human lives - even if he, the journo, cannot be blamed for it. It is too hard for him to bear the burden of not being free, of having to weigh every step he takes. For ten years, Mikkelsen has been searching for a way to fulfill his journalistic mission without incurring the wrath of extremist groups. An energy-sapping act of violence.

Where is the way out, for all of us? Must those who are heard become ever quieter so that nothing happens to them? It is easy for those who are not under fire to demand courage, courage and a loud voice. But maybe it's just as simple: don't let anyone take away your courage, ever. Don't tolerate a muzzle, certainly not when you're supposed to put it on yourself. Use freedom before it wears out. And don't lose faith in your own cause.
The Swiss Media Forum could have been canceled. But there was a lake tour. So if you're wondering whether it's still worth being a journalist today, whether this profession is a viable risk: It doesn't matter. Open your mouths, we are needed more than ever! Ahoy on the MS Liberty.

Anne-Friederike Heinrich, Editor-in-Chief
f.heinrich@werbewoche.ch