Budapest Pride proved that freedom and love cannot be banned

Budapest Pride marked its 30th anniversary this year, but the government’s decision to ban the event in March cast a sombre sky over such a joyous occasion. For many Hungarians, this was not just an attack on the LGBTQ+ community, but an attack on all of us. The freedom to love who we want and the freedom to express this love through a peaceful gathering is something that cannot be taken away. That is our civil right. 

If the government can ban Pride, what will be next? 

Attendees of the event were threatened with fines of up to 200,000 Hungarian forints (approximately 500), enforced through facial recognition technology. This is something that many Hungarians simply cannot afford to pay. The police also denied to give permission for the event, due to the government ban. However, Gergely Karácsony, the mayor of Budapest, came up with a solution: relabelling Pride as a municipal event, meaning that it didn’t require a permit. This made sure no one had the legal grounds to stop it from happening.

But either way I was sure about one thing – I was going to be there.

When I reached the meeting point on Saturday 28 June, which was a warm, sunny day, I couldn’t see the start of the march due to the sea of people buzzing on the street. There was a sense of joy and togetherness, something that reassured me. I knew this is where I belonged.

As I was waiting for my friends, I started to talk to Bea, 52, a mother of four, who came to Pride to protest against the government and fight for her children’s future. “One day we exclude one group of people, the next day another, then a third, and eventually we are going to end up with a yellow star again. I’m really afraid of that,” she said. “I want a future for my children where they can live freely.” 

“I feel hopeless, absolutely hopeless,” she added. “I have this secondary embarrassment that the people I voted for, the ones I once believed in, led the country to where it is now. I am embarrassed to be living among people who think this way.”

These same thoughts have been lingering in my own mind for years. I keep asking myself: how can so many people vote for this government? Is it their lack of compassion? Or is it just propaganda tainting their views? 

But as I was standing at Deák Ferenc square, surrounded by thousands of people who chose to show their resistance that day, something started to shift in me.

Photo by Anna Péter

When the crowd walked down Károly körút and passed a facial recognition camera, a man in his fifties jokingly shouted at it: “Take me to prison, take me to prison.” His defiance and total absence of fear of the consequences was infectious. It inspired me and made me so proud to be standing alongside him and others.

The march was originally heading to the Freedom Bridge but the far right party, Mi Hazánk (Our Homeland Movement) had blocked it, leaving us with no choice but to reroute and go across the Elisabeth Bridge instead.

Pride marchers walking over Elisabeth Bridge. Photo by Anna Péter

During the walk, I met Orsi from Budapest, who said she wants to live in a country where she can exercise her basic human rights, such as the right to free assembly. “Everyone is equal, regardless of their gender or religion. I came here today to support the LGBTQ+ people but if any other group of people were banned from marching, I would still be here.”

Orsi recently attended a demonstration against the abolition of the right to assembly where police shouted into her ear with a megaphone. “I didn’t feel safe, even as a peaceful protestor,” she said. “I am afraid not only of the fine that I can get but also how the police may react today.”

She is not alone in this fear. Even the day before Pride, I kept thinking about the worst-case scenario: what if the police acted irrationally? What if counter protestors turned violent? What if the whole Pride just got out of hand?

Photo by Anna Péter

I believe these are all valid questions many of us have asked ourselves but as we marched forward and saw no police or any kind of violent interference in this peaceful protest, these questions seemed like a distant memory.

As we approached Műegyetem, our final destination, Hungarian actors and entertainers made sure that the atmosphere didn’t fade and kept the energy going.

Armand, 15, another marcher from Sopron in western Hungary, said that although he had never been to Pride before, he felt that the growing hatred must stop. “We have to stand up for minorities and for Hungarians in general,” he said.

He continued: “I really hope people will admit that not everyone is the same and that this needs to be accepted. Everyone deserves to be loved the way they are. I think together we can create a beautiful future for Hungary.”

At the end of this warm summer’s day, Armand’s words echoed in my ears. I felt the wind of change was not a distant idea anymore; it finally felt real. 

Photo by Anna Péter

The fog of war lifts in Iran

As I wrote the newsletter last week we were closely following events in Iran but didn’t have a full picture in terms of free speech ramifications, in part because of censorship itself – internet blackouts and media bans meant that information was slow to leave the country. One week on, it’s different. Many alarming stories have emerged.

The conflict between Israel and Iran was of course marked from the start by free speech violations – early on there was the bombing of Iranian state television. Then later there were strikes on Tehran’s Evin Prison. While these acts may have been intended as symbolic blows against key institutions of Iranian repression, the consequences were grimly real: media workers killed, political prisoners endangered. And in between? Lots of repression.

At Index, some developments were personal, including when our 2023 Arts Award winner – the rapper Toomaj Salehi – disappeared for three days. Beyond our immediate network, according to the Centre for Human Rights in Iran, more than 700 citizens have been arrested in the past 12 days, some for alleged “espionage” or “collaboration” with Israel. There have also been six executions on espionage charges carried out, with additional death sentences expected.

The Supreme Council of National Security announced that any action deemed supportive of Israel would be met with the most severe penalty: death. The scope was broad, ranging from “legitimising the Zionist regime” to “spreading false information” or “sowing division”.

As mentioned above, Iran also began restricting internet access before shutting down access altogether. Officials claimed the blackout was necessary to disrupt Israeli drone operations allegedly controlled through local SIM-based networks. The result: ordinary Iranians were cut off from vital news. International journalists from outfits like Deutsche Welle (DW) were banned from reporting inside Iran. The family of a UK-based journalist with Iran International TV was even detained in Tehran, in an attempt to force her resignation. Her father called her under duress, parroting instructions from security agents: “I’ve told you a thousand times to resign. What other consequences do you expect?”

Yet amid the bleakness, there have been a few positive instances. Iranian state media aired a patriotic song by Moein, a pop icon long exiled in Los Angeles. Some billboards replaced religious slogans with pre-Islamic imagery, such as the mythical figure Arash the Archer. There has also been an unexpected digital reprieve: on Wednesday, following the agreement of an Israel-Iran ceasefire deal brokered by the US administration the day before, Iranians reported unfiltered access to Instagram and WhatsApp for the first time in two years.

Given everything else it feels unlikely that this openness will last. This week’s proposals by Iran’s judiciary officials to expand espionage laws and increase the powers of Iran’s sprawling security apparatus imply as much, too. So while the world’s eyes might have moved away from Iran, our gaze is still there – documenting the free speech violations and campaigning for their end.

The week in free expression: 21–27 June 2025

In the age of online information, it can feel harder than ever to stay informed. As we get bombarded with news from all angles, important stories can easily pass us by. To help you cut through the noise, every Friday Index publishes a weekly news roundup of some of the key stories covering censorship and free expression. This week, we look at Hungary’s banned Pride demonstration, and mass anti-government protests in Kenya.

Pride in spite of the law: Hungary’s LGBTQ+ march to go ahead in violation of police ban

On Tuesday 18 March, Hungary’s ruling Fidesz party led by Viktor Orbán rushed a bill through parliament banning LGBTQ+ pride marches, sparking outrage from the EU and activists. The ban was made on the grounds that such events are allegedly harmful to children, with Orbán stating “We won’t let woke ideology endanger our kids.” This put Budapest’s annual Pride march, scheduled to take place on Saturday 28 June, in jeopardy – but Hungary’s LGBTQ+ community is refusing to back down.

The march, which marks the 30th anniversary of Budapest Pride, is scheduled to go ahead with backing from Budapest’s liberal mayor, who has taken the step of organising the event through the city council under the name “Day of Freedom” to circumvent the law against LGBTQ+ gatherings – but the city police, still under the control of Fidesz, will be moving to quash these efforts. Those partaking in the event will be targeted by facial recognition technology and could face fines. With more than 200 Amnesty International delegates set to march alongside thousands of Hungarians in solidarity, Saturday is likely to see a clash between Hungary’s LGBTQ+ community and the state police.

Brutality begets brutality: Kenyan protests against government cruelty result in further loss of life

On 25 June 2024, a mass protest outside parliament in Nairobi against tax rises escalated into a tragedy, with Kenyan police officers firing on protesters as they attempted to storm the parliament building. The Kenyan National Commission on Human Rights announced that 39 had been killed in the nationwide demonstrations, and it was recently revealed by BBC Africa Eye that some officers had shot and killed unarmed protesters. Marking a year since this incident, Kenyans took to the streets this week to demonstrate against the government, and further brutality has followed.

Amnesty International Kenya has reported that 16 people were killed at the anniversary protests on 25 June 2025, with approximately a further 400 injured. CNN witnessed police firing live ammunition to disperse peaceful protesters, and the government regulator, Communications Authority of Kenya, issued an order for all local TV and radio stations to stop broadcasting live coverage of the protests. Tensions have been on the rise in recent months, with the murder of Kenyan blogger Albert Ojwang in police custody, and the shooting of street vendor Boniface Kariuki at a demonstration in Ojwang’s honour inflaming the situation further. 

Free at last: Pro-Palestinian student activist Mahmoud Khalil released

Palestinian-Algerian activist and Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil was released from his detention in a Louisiana Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) facility on the evening of Friday 20 June after 104 days in detention.

Khalil’s arrest sparked a national outcry. A prominent pro-Palestinian activist on Columbia’s campus, he would sometimes act as a spokesperson for the student protest movement, making him a prime target for ICE’s crackdown on immigrant protesters – despite Khalil holding a green card, which grants an individual lawful permanent resident status in the USA. 

He was arrested without a warrant on 8 March 2025. Charged with no crime, Khalil was earmarked for deportation by Secretary of State Marco Rubio under the belief that his presence in the country had “foreign policy consequences”. This move was deemed unconstitutional, and Khalil was released after a Louisiana judge ruled that Khalil was neither a flight risk nor dangerous, and that his prolonged detention – which led to him missing the birth of his son – was potentially punitive.

Khalil returned to the frontlines of protests just days after his release, but his feud with the Donald Trump administration is far from over. The government is reportedly set to appeal the ruling to release Khalil, and rights groups such as the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) have suggested that there could be a long legal road ahead.

Unfairly dismissed: Australian journalist wins court case after losing her job over Gaza repost

Australian journalist Antoinette Lattouf has won her court case against Australia’s national broadcaster, Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC), with a judge ruling she was unfairly dismissed from her job after sharing a post on social media about the Israel-Gaza conflict.

Lattouf reportedly shared a post by Human Rights Watch that accused Israel of committing war crimes in Gaza in December 2023, resulting in her sacking from her fill-in radio presenter role just hours later. 

ABC claimed that the post violated its editorial policy, but after the ruling has apologised to the journalist, saying it had “let down our staff and audiences” in how it handled the matter. According to The Guardian, the broadcaster had received a “campaign of complaints” from the moment Lattouf was first on air, accusing her of anti-Israel bias based on her past social media activity. It has also been reported that due process around Lattouf’s dismissal was not followed, with the allegations in the email complaints not put to her directly prior to her sacking.

Justice Darryl Rangiah ruled that Lattouf had been fired “for reasons including that she held a political opinion opposing the Israeli military campaign in Gaza”, in violation of Australia’s Fair Work Act. Lattouf was awarded 70,000 Australian dollars ($45,000) in damages. She told reporters outside the courtroom “I was punished for my political opinion”.

Sudden freedom: 14 Belarusian political prisoners freed from prison following US official visit

During the visit of the US special envoy Keith Kellogg to Belarus’s capital Minsk, dictator Alyaksandr Lukashenka made the surprise move of releasing 14 political prisoners from detention on 21 June 2025. The US brokered deal, reportedly led by Kellogg, saw the release of prominent Belarusian activist Siarhei Tsikhanouski who was arrested in 2020 and sentenced with 18 years in prison after declaring his intention to run for president. Also released was journalist Ihar Karnei who worked at Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty for more than 20 years.

Tsikhanouski has recounted his experience in prison as being “torture”. He said he was kept in solitary confinement and denied adequate food and medical care, and he lost more than 100 pounds during his five years’ imprisonment. He told the Associated Press that prison officials would mock him, saying “You will be here not just for the 20 years we’ve already given you – we will convict you again” and “You will die here.”

Tsikhanouski is the husband of Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, who following his arrest took his place in running for president and became the main opposition leader in Belarus. Now living in exile in Lithuania, the two have been reunited in Vilnius – but Tsikhanouskaya insists that her work is not finished with reportedly more than 1,100 political prisoners still remaining inside Belarusian jails.

Death by a thousand cuts in Hong Kong

This article was authored in collaboration with The Committee for Freedom in Hong Kong Foundation (CFHK).

Five years ago, Hong Kong passed the National Security Law. Its message was clear – dissent at your peril. Overnight Hong Kong, a city once known for its vibrant demonstrations, became quiet. People no longer took to Victoria Park to commemorate the victims of Tiananmen Square; they no longer filled Causeway Bay to rail against extradition laws to China. Plenty who had taken part in the city’s protest movement fled; a determined number stayed, knowing the risks. Scores were arrested. Many remain behind bars to this day. 

I’ve never been in prison, but I’ve spoken to enough former political prisoners to understand one central characteristic: the crushing sameness. As the world outside has spun forward – from Covid lockdowns and wars to elections and viral video trends – for Joshua Wong, Jimmy Lai, Benny Tai and others, the days likely blur, indistinguishable, from one to the next. 

Such a juxtaposition has been noted, with frustration, by those who have loved ones locked up.  

“My father is still in prison, there are still more than 1,000 political prisoners in Hong Kong at the moment,” Sebastien Lai told me as we reflected on the fact that while Hong Kong is largely out of the news cycle, his dad is not out of jail. 

There is no downplaying the significance of the passage of the National Security Law on 30 June 2020, of the thousands who were arrested because of it, the newspapers shuttered, the pro-democracy groups disbanded, and the hundreds of thousands who fled. It was, of course, not the beginning of repression in Hong Kong. I have vivid memories from 2018 of the journalist Evan Fowler telling me, voice shaking, that it was a city “being ripped apart”. 

Nor was it the end of repression. “In reality there has not been a single eye-catching moment when everything suddenly changed,” wrote Jeff Wasserstrom and Sharon Yam in New Lines last year who spoke of the “stop-and-go pace of repression”. The passage of the National Security Law was a “go” moment – a particularly big one – and one followed by other “go” moments. 

Speaking to someone on the ground in Hong Kong, who wished to remain anonymous on security grounds, they said that there’s rarely a month that goes by when they “don’t discuss leaving with loved ones”. 

“Whether it’s t-shirts, a song, a mobile game, books, a newspaper op-ed [opinion piece] or a social media post expressing dissatisfaction with the government, the crackdown on anything deemed seditious only seems to escalate month by month.”

They likened the attacks on freedom of expression to “death by a thousand cuts” – a phrase I’ve heard others use too. 

The thousand cuts analogy is evident in many examples. There has been the passage of new legislation in the form of the 2021 “Patriots law”, which allowed only those who swear allegiance to the Chinese Communist Party to hold a position in government, and of Article 23 in 2024, another national security law that further squeezed freedoms in the city and abroad. 

A police hotline has been established, inviting members of the public to report on each other. Responsible for creating what the BBC termed a “culture of anonymous informing”, it’s received more than 890,000 tip-offs to date. 

In schools – the original battleground for Beijing after Hong Kong’s handover – textbooks have been rewritten to say Hong Kong was not a former British colony and “red study trips” to China are now mandatory for secondary school students. 

The repression extends to the seemingly banal; just last week Greenpeace had to move a talk online after the Chinese University of Hong Kong cancelled it citing “urgent maintenance”. It extends to the families of those who dissent; in May, it was widely reported that police had arrested the father and brother of US-based pro-democracy activist Anna Kwok for allegedly helping with her finances. 

For the protest leader Nathan Law, watching what has unfolded in the past five years has been sobering to say the least. When the National Security Law was announced in May 2020, he deemed it serious enough to escape the city before it was passed. Was that precautionary? Looking back, he reflected that “people were calculating whether it would be a symbolic law rarely used or a draconian law.” It was, sadly, the latter. Precaution paid off. 

Law is obviously not on the ground and doesn’t contact people in Hong Kong for fear it could endanger them. Still, he avidly follows what is happening and can see the “chilling” impact it’s had through the many arrests, and through other markers too. He recently watched a video on a news site in which people on the streets of Hong Kong were filmed asking for their comments on the National Security Law. Most didn’t dare answer; a few scuttled away the second the camera came near. 

Since 2020, headlines like Hong Kong is “dead”, “lost” or “over” have appeared. It’s easy to see how the headlines have come about. At the same time, some have taken issue with such a framing, which is understandable too. Dissent does still exist, even if Hong Kong is a very dim shadow of its former self. A few independent news outlets remain. They tread a careful line – keep to the facts of cases and avoid conjecture – and have to stave off new threats in the form of spurious tax audits and other bureaucratic, legal and financial scrutiny. And yet they continue to report. There are also the occasional small-scale protests, such as one held at the end of May to raise awareness about issues impacting LGBTQ+ communities. It was far from the buzzing spectacle of Hong Kong Pride – which hasn’t taken place properly since 2018 – but it was something.  

Outside of Hong Kong, diaspora communities in London, Taipei and other cities have taken it upon themselves to keep the spotlight up. Artists like Hong Kong duo Lumli Lumlong create eye-catching canvases featuring the faces of protest leaders, which are displayed in galleries; talks about the crackdown in Hong Kong are hosted; critical plays written by Hong Kongers from before 2020 have transferred over to other countries; governments are lobbied and demonstrations are held outside embassies; a commemorative issue of Apple Daily was even printed this week by exiled staff in collaboration with Reporters Without Borders (RSF).  

Law takes solace in this. 

“When we left we brought certain parts of Hong Kong with us. We carry the spirit with us,” he remarked. 

Law misses those who remain imprisoned in Hong Kong dearly. “I feel devastated to see them spending so much time behind bars,” he said. It’s unlikely he’ll see them anytime soon. Wong, who has spent the better part of his twenties in jail, was slapped with fresh charges this month in a move that exposed the authorities’ clear intent to not release him anytime soon. 

Sebastien Lai hasn’t seen his father in more than four and a half years. 

“I miss just the normal daily stuff. Just chatting to him, telling jokes, having dinner with him,” he told me. 

Jimmy Lai is 77 and has deteriorating health. His national security trial is expected to run until the autumn. His appeal to be represented by his preferred lawyer was rejected this March. For Sebastien, and indeed many others, Jimmy’s rags to riches story, his incredible bravery and the attempts to silence him are symbolic of Hong Kong past and present. 

“In what society would you imprison a human rights defender – a man who has given everything that he has to defend the rights of others – but that is Hong Kong now.” 

SUPPORT INDEX'S WORK