21 May 2014 | Counterpoint, Digital Freedom, European Union, News and features
Enshrining the right to be forgotten is a further step towards allowing individuals to take control of their own data, or even monetise it themselves, as we proposed in the Project 2020 white paper (Scenarios for the Future of Cybercrime). The way the law stands in the EU currently, we have legal definitions for a data controller, a data processor and a data subject, an oddity, which lands each of us in the bizarre situation where we are subjects of our own data rather being able to assert any notion of ownership over it. With data ownership comes the right to grant or deny access to that data and to be responsible for its accuracy and integrity.
In response to the ECJ judgement, I have seen a lot of commentators cry “censorship” and make all kinds of unsupportable comparisons with book burning (or pulping), these reactions are misguided and out of all proportion to the decision made. Let’s remember what has been decreed is that an individual has the right to request that certain information be de-indexed from search and aggregation engines. That request is not an order and each one must go through due process and consideration before any changes are made, including if necessary consideration by a court of law. Individuals are not being granted the right to rewrite history, they are being given the right to request, within the strictures of the law, that certain publishers cease to publish information about them which they consider deleterious. They are being given the right to be able to manage their own image online, it seems bizarre that this right is seen by some as the repression of free speech when in effect it gives the individual the right to speak up about something which they find personally damaging.
In 2009, an organisation called “The Consulting Association” was found to be operating a commercial blacklist service to the construction industry. This organisation held detailed files on construction professionals, listing their names, family relationships, newspaper cuttings and details of criminal records. Several global construction companies paid for access to this data and over 3000 individuals were potentially prevented from gaining employment in their industry. Of course this shocks us, and rightly the Information Commissioner took action, seizing the data in question and informing those affected. In many ways a search engine’s constant aggregation of data and even more its contextualisation and publication of that data as relevant to a given name fulfils the same function, now you have a right to at least influence it, even if you cannot stop it.
The ruling is the right one. The court recognises that information that was “legally published” remains so and that the individual has no right to censor it. However, they also recognise that search engines collect, retrieve, record, organise, store and disclose information on an on-going basis and that this constitutes “processing” of data under the EU directive. Further, given that the search engine determines the means and purpose of their own data processing, they are also a “Data Controller” under that directive and again must fulfil the legal requirements of such an entity; any other court decision would weaken that whole directive beyond repair. The entirety of information turned up in response to a search on a person’s name, represents a whole new level of publishing and the discrete items of information would have been very difficult, if not impossible, to put together in the absence of a search engine.
While there will of course be technical and procedural issues that arise from this ruling and there will doubtless be individuals seeking to evade public scrutiny, any other decision on this would have simply blown away the EU Data Protection directive and that is not something any us should be advocating. Consider the wider ramifications of this decision, if a search engine is now a “Data Controller” in the eyes of the law, shouldn’t they be notifying us whenever they collect information about us? Would it be a breath of fresh air if you could begin to understand the wealth of information out there about you and begin to realise an income from it yourself? Personal information is a commodity that commands a financial premium and right now it is others who realise those gains. It’s time we advocated for real ownership of our own data.
Before personal data became a commodity mined by corporations and attackers alike, the need for a legal stance on the identity of the “owner” of data relating to oneself may have seemed laughable. However that has landed us in the situation of today when entities that mine and monetise that same data can refer to this very welcome EU ruling as “disappointing”. Commercially disappointing it may be, however it is a step, albeit a small one, in the right direction.
This article was originally posted on May 13, 2014 at countermeasures.trendmicro.eu
21 May 2014 | Digital Freedom, India, News and features, Politics and Society
(Photo illustration: Shutterstock)
Indians, ever a chatty lot, are obsessed with the idea of being obsessed with social media. That is why, as the BJP’s stunning victory in the Indian general elections was declared, the news media immediately began to examine the impact of social media campaigning in the elections. Numbers aside, the victory over social media has revealed the fault lines of Indian society as it stands today.
India’s online population is small as compared to its offline population – about 213 million users to 1.2 billion people – but it is growing. Though these figures expand and contract depending on whom you ask, we do know that 33 million are on Twitter and Facebook has hit the 100 million-user mark. Given these statistics, it is indeed impressive that India’s newest Prime Minister, Narendra Modi has 4.2 million followers on Twitter already. The would-be leader of opposition, Rahul Gandhi, whose party did not win enough seats to actually assume the seat as leader of the opposition in parliament, isn’t on Twitter. However, his party has an account, with about 181,000 followers. There are other political stars on social media, including individual members of various parties, and notably, members of the newly formed Aam Aadmi Party.
However, when asked the question: “who won the social media war” – because, to be sure, there was one – the answer can only really be Narendra Modi. In fact, his own campaign machinery was so well oiled that his personal profile overshadowed his party. “Ab ki baar, Modi Sarkar” (this time, a Modi government) was arguably the catchiest slogan on the campaign and it inspired many a joke, including a takeover of the nursery rhyme – “twinkle, twinkle, little star, ab ki baar, Modi sarkar!” And according to reports, the BJP was mentioned on Twitter, on average, about 30,000 times a day, with the Congress trailing behind at between 15,000-20,000. Modi’s victory tweet promising a better India after election results were declared was retweeted 69,872 times.
Truthfully, there is no way that social media could have supplanted the traditional route. Modi’s tireless campaigning – 437 rallies, 5,827 public interface events across 25 states that is a distance of 300,000km – is impressive. But, equally impressive was the BJP’s entire digital campaign effort; a “social media war room” that reportedly cost Rs 35 lakh (35,000 GBP), with 30 computers and about 50 volunteers, tracking activities across India’s 92,000 villages. And accounts from insiders, young professionals, many whom took sabbaticals from their jobs to participate in this campaign, talks of a breathless environment, where Facebook was used to crowdsource ideas for speeches, and ‘Mission 272’ (in terms of how many seats they were aiming to win) became a reality. In fact, many creative contributions from BJP’s supporters – videos, jingles, songs and poems – can be found on the website.
At the same time, social media has been very revealing about the state of the Indian majority. The tonality of political discourse over the internet, which was very polarized between the Hindu rightwingers and secularists saw vicious language, trolling and hate speech dotting the landscape. However, the Hindu right, abused as communal in the time of the Congress government have emerged victorious and unapologetic about their political leanings. In public groups on Google Plus, cyber Hindus declare that a “pro Hindu lobby is not an option, but a sheer necessity.” In fact, the ‘liberal’ discourse that sweeps much of the mainstream English media was taken aback at the sweeping victory that the BJP has earned in this election. There is nervousness that the BJP, supported and guided by the RSS – Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh—a right-wing, nationalist group espousing strict discipline, martial training and self sacrifice in defence of the Motherland, often derided for being extremist – will work towards a majoritarian agenda where minorities will find less space to exist. These fears are compounded by the RSS’s beliefs – formalized in annual reports – that seek to impose a strict moral code that frowns upon live-in relations, homosexuality and also keeping an eye on minority communities. The RSS has being heartened by educated Indians joining their cause via social media, thereby signaling that their views might no longer be frowned upon as extreme or communal. They do not want to apologize for representing the view of the Hindu right.
And on cue, Narendra Modi, in a rousing speech formally accepting his role as the leader of the majority party in Parliament, promised his fellow BJP MPs that by the birth anniversary of Pandit Deendayal Upadhyaya in 2016, co-founder of the Bharitiya Jan Sangh that later became the BJP as known today, India shall rise to its promise of being a great nation. Tying down his campaign promises to his deep association with the RSS, the signal is clear. Indeed, Atal Bihari Vajpayee, the former Prime Minister, had affirmed proudly that “the Sangh is my soul”. The Hindu is back in Hindustan (another name for India).
An analysis in India Today magazine has declared the Indian cybersphere ‘saffron’ (the color associated with the Hindu right) writing, “But their agenda is a mix of post-modern and traditional. They oppose dynasty politics, particularly the Nehru-Gandhi clan and its allies such as Shiv Sena. They call minority appeasement ‘pseudo-secularism’ with such fervour that their sentiment could easily be interpreted as Hindu supremacist or anti-Muslim. They are against lower-caste reservation, particularly because it is poorly implemented. They are concerned about internal security. But above all, they are against corruption.” In deconstructing the ways of the Hindu saffron social media user, the article offers certain clues, such as the words “proud”, “patriot” and “Hindu” appearing in their bios, and often uploading images of Hindu gods as their display picture.
The people have spoken. The media is filled with analysis that people have either embraced Modi for his Hindu leanings, or ignored them in order realize the dream of “development” that is has promised to deliver. The number of Muslim MPs in parliament is down to 21 from 30 in the last session, the lowest number since India’s first elections. The Congress and its allies, who built careers on carefully constructed platforms of secularism – in their first term, they had a Muslim President, Sikh Prime Minister and Christian leader of the party – have been set aside in favour of a openly religious and Hindu BJP. Whatever be the reasons for the vote, for the everyday people tweeting and Facebooking, it appears that being pro-Hindu is slowly being disassociated with being communal. For many, this is a relief.
It seems it might finally be hip to be Hindu.
This article was posted on May 21, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
20 May 2014 | Asia and Pacific, East Timor, News and features, Politics and Society, Young Writers / Artists Programme
(Photo: Shutterstock)
Twelve years ago East Timor, or Timor-Leste, was recognised as the 191st member of the United Nations after a devastating 25-year Indonesian occupation. The fledgling democracy has since faced unprecedented challenges in building and maintaining its infrastructure, institutions and society after a UN-effort to help rebuild the tiny, impoverished island of 1.1m people. Adding to this struggle, the government has recently been criticised after a media law was ratified on 7 May, which seeks to regulate the media by imposing restrictions on journalists.
The legislation requires journalists complete a six, 12 or 18 month internship with a certified media organisation that must be recognised by a government-funded press council. These laws effectively exclude citizen, freelance and student journalists from publishing anything, with the prospect of fines and disciplinary action if they do. Foreign journalists, too, will now be compelled to apply to for accreditation and permission from the same council to report inside the country. Further restrictions are enumerated in Article 17, which states that “The profession of journalism cannot be performed concurrently with the following functions,” listing civil servants, office holders in local authorities, members of political parties, people in public relations and those involved in advertising. Violation of this “shall be punished by a fine of $250-$1000”, more than a month’s salary for most Timorese.
The constitution of East Timor is written with admirable clarity and Articles 40 and 41 enshrine freedom of the press and of expression for all citizens. The Timor-Leste Journalists Union pleaded its concern about the restrictive effect the law would have upon them, recognising the long shadow of censorship implicit within it. They were endorsed from outside by the International Federation of Journalists (IFJ), who called “on the government of East Timor to take heed of the concerns raised by its media in developing the country’s new media laws. Any legislation that would limit the capacity of local and international journalists reporting on East Timor also limits the public’s right to know and is of great concern to the IFJ.”
The weekly publication Tempo Semanal is edited by José Belo, perhaps the most eminent and decorated journalist in the country. Belo was rated as ‘one of the top 100 information heroes’ by Reporters Without Borders for his role in documenting the Indonesian occupation and his integral position in building the democratic media in East Timor. He has been vociferous in his criticism of the legislation, saying it “gives excessive powers to a state funded media council with the power to impose penalties that will be used to control journalists.” One of Belo’s exposé led to the imprisonment of a government minister for corruption in 2012, and despite its democratic nature, the country was ranked at 119 out of 177 countries surveyed in Transparency International’s 2013 Corruption Perceptions Index. Indeed, Australian freelancer Meagan Wymes, of The Dili Weekly, another paper in the capital, wrote that “it is incredibly difficult for journalists to access what should be public information through official channels. When it comes to reporting on corruption in any depth, this tightly controlled environment makes it very difficult. For most investigative stories, leaks are required from within the government or public service.”
Belo went further, saying: “It seems to me the Press Council is likely to be police or prosecutor – even judge – for journalists and media.” Having also worked for outside news agencies – like The Associated Press – during the occupation he was naturally concerned that “foreign correspondents who have played a key role in our struggle for independence will not be able to operate freely” alluding to Article 25 of the new law, which requires agencies of foreign media to register and gain permission before being allowed in to report.
It is the contention of the government that the largely unprofessional nature of the emerging media often results in inaccurate and unbalanced reportage, sometimes blurring the distinction between fact and opinion. A regulatory law and mandatory training is needed to increase standards, they argue. This is not entirely unreasonable and Toby Mendel, an international human rights lawyer for the Centre for Law and Democracy, told Index: “It could be useful for the country to pass a media law. As in most young democracies, the press there is just establishing itself and this inevitably leads to a measure of unprofessional behavior.’” Mendel, though, was critical of a number of “problematic” provisions in the law, and specifically noted “the biggest problem is control over who is a journalist, pursuant to Articles 12 and 13, and the fact no one may work as a journalist without being accepted into the profession. This is completely contrary to international standards.”
There are a handful of daily and weekly publications in East Timor and the print media remains quite small largely due to a near 50 per cent illiteracy rate and high publishing costs. Radio is the widest reaching channel of information reaching some 63 per cent of the population monthly, with public TV estimated to be watched by around half. Internet access is extremely limited, though not censored, and reaches around 1 per cent of the population, according to Freedom House. The US-based NGO also rated the country as “partly free” and reported that already “journalists practice self-censorship and authorities regularly deny access to information. The free flow of information remains hampered by poor infrastructure and scarce resources.” The prevalence of two main languages, Tetum and Portuguese, as well as multiple different dialects, further complicates the process and distribution of news and events to citizens. East Timorese NGO, La’o Hamutuk, added its voice to the sceptics, saying that: “Timor-Leste has already gone for more than a decade without a media law and we have not had problems with media and information, During this time, Timorese people enjoyed their right to information and freedom of expression through various media, after nearly five hundred years of repression and censorship.”
This is a nation where around 60 per cent of the population is under 24 years old and where around 40 per cent of citizens live below the international poverty line. After centuries of Portuguese colonialism –then a brief 10 day sojourn of independence- a quarter century of brutal Indonesian occupation followed razing the infrastructure and intimidating the populace of the island. The UN mission here had to effectively re-author the state from ruin and is regarded as one of their biggest success stories, producing a self-determining democratic government.
For the optimist it may be that the passing of this law is a well-meaning, essentially benign attempt to produce more professional standards of journalistic conduct. Though it seems a number of the conditions extend beyond that, bordering on constrictive regulation. A government statement read: “Its purpose is primarily to regulate the activity of professionals, adequately prepared and ethically responsible, so that they can inform the public objectively and impartially and encourage active and enlightened citizenship by the population, thus contributing to a democratic society.” All very well in theory, then, though its imposition in practice could be much more sinister.
The passage of time will determine what effect this law has on the press in real terms and it remains unclear how authoritatively the regulations will be enforced. If this nascent democracy is going to develop properly, an unhindered press will be vital to that process. However, these restrictions could, in potentia, open the door for parliamentary encroachment and censorship, stunting the growth of a nation just embarking on its first experiment in self-rule.
This article was published on May 20, 2014 for indexoncensorship.org
20 May 2014 | Digital Freedom, News and features, Politics and Society, Religion and Culture, Tunisia
After decades of dictatorship and two years of arguments and compromises, Tunisians passed a new constitution laying the foundations for a new democracy. (Photo: Mohamed Krit / Demotix)
“A model to other peoples seeking reform” said UN Secretary-General, Ban Ki-moon on the successful passing in 2014 of the new Tunisian Constitution. Championing a secular political and legal system following the popular uprisings of 2011, this constitution sought to maintain robust protections of fundamental freedoms. However, the recent creation of the Technical Telecommunication Agency (ATT) threatens to undermine such progress and all in the service of digital surveillance.
Established by decree no. 2013-4506, bypassing parliamentary approval, ATT “provides technical support to judicial investigations into ICT-related crimes”, enabling it to monitor and record online traffic with full access to networks and information held by Internet Service Providers. Many critics of the agency liken it to the NSA; Tunisian Pirate Party member Raed Chammem stated on Twitter “We finally have our own Tunisian law-abusing agency…#NSA-like #A2T”.
The drafting process of the constitution demonstrated the core divergent forces at play in Tunisia. Central to this tension was the positioning of media freedom, most notably in the mandate and impartiality of the High Independent Authority for Audiovisual Communication (HAICA). Articles 122 and 124 reduced the authority to an advisory role as opposed to that of a regulator and required its membership to be elected by parliament. It took concerted lobbying by civil society activists and the National Union of Tunisian Journalists to modify both articles. As stated by Freedom House “the revised language is not just a victory for press freedom and the media sector, but also a triumph for Tunisia’s growing civil society.”
The fight for greater oversight by civil society and regulatory bodies as seen in the last minute amendments to the constitution has not, to date, impacted the creation and implementation of the ATT. The International Business Times wrote that the ATT “fails to properly define the organization’s relationship with judicial authorities, and there is no legal framework for providing civilian accountability”. They go on to quote Tunisian lawyer, Kais Berrjab who states that the ATT represents a “battery of legal irregularities related to unconstitutionality and illegality.”
With an emergent blogger-community, any movement to restrict, monitor or record online content, strikes at the heart of media freedom in Tunisia. Article five of decree no. 2013-4506 outlines that ATT activities will be “secret, unpublished and only sent to the government”. When coupled with the head of the agency being appointed by the Minister of Information and Communication alone, and government plans to exempt the ATT from legal obligations, which exist for all other agencies, in regards to transparency, the prominence of the state raises pertinent questions about the impartiality and non-partisanship of the agency.
The IB Times highlights a key motivation behind the creation of the ATT; the belief “that monitoring the activities of private citizens is essential to counterterrorism effort.” Indeed this argument is playing out across the world, most notably in the US concerning the actions of NSA and the UK with its own GCHQ.
Mounting public pressure to confront recent high-profile assassinations, as well as the perceived threat of Islamic extremism has been highlighted as key reasons for this move towards creating a more investigative body – ATT in all essences replaces the Tunisian Internet Agency (ATI) – however criticism remains as to how it can operate within the legal and political parameters outlined in the 2014 constitution.
In the same IB Times article, Jillian York of the Electronic Frontiers Foundation is quoted as saying, “starting with legitimate concerns about security, the state can then push beyond that and you see surveillance used against political dissidents or just in violation of basic privacy.” Herein lies the central conflict; the last minute redrafting of the constitution established civilian oversight, an impartial regulator and robust protections, but will the ATT, wired to the central government, through the Minister of Information and Communication, undermine such progress, making online participation as dangerous for journalists and bloggers as seen under the leadership of Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali?
The passing of the constitution proved to be a powerful call-to-action for Tunisian civil society, reshaping the government’s relationship with the media and civil society and embedding freedom of media and expression at the core of the legal and political system. But with the establishment of the ATT, Tunisia risks damaging this precedent, undermining the progress, as part of an ill-defined counterterrorism campaign.
The constitution cannot exist outside any effort to counter terrorism; it should, in fact, lie at the core of these efforts. The combatting of militancy and terrorism requires the support and involvement of all sectors of society, including the media and civil society. But if it is the state that strikes the first blow against the ideals and optimism contained within the constitution, will the emergent civil society be able to defend it?
This article was posted on May 20, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
