8 Jan 2025 | Middle East and North Africa, News, Syria
For more than five decades, Syria has lived under a repressive regime that has made freedom of expression a distant dream. Under Bashar al-Assad, expression was curtailed by repressive laws and strict censorship, while the security services were used as a tool to silence dissenting voices. With the Syrian revolution in 2011, a new age of free expression seemed to be emerging, but it quickly collided with security, political, and social challenges. Now that the Assad regime has been overthrown, what does this mean for the future of free expression in the country?
Freedom of expression under Assad
There were many forces at play within Assad’s regime that were used to silence those critical of the government and stop dissent.
The first were repressive laws. Throughout the decades of the Assad family’s rule, laws were designed to serve the security services and ensure the political domination of society.
The emergency law, which remained in place from 1963 to 2011, gave the security services unlimited powers to prosecute dissidents and protesters and restrict freedoms. Assad lifted the law following Syria’s Arab Spring protests, though opposition politicians called this move “useless” without reform of the legal system and accountability for security services. The 2001 Publications Law, which tightly censored the press, banned the emergence of any independent media voices. This was later repealed and replaced with a Media Law in 2011, but this still placed restrictions on journalists, including that freedom of expression should be “exercised responsibly and with consideration”. More recently, the cybercrime law in 2022 was used to silence dissenting voices online, and has made public criticism of the regime a crime punishable by imprisonment.
In this context, writer, dissident and former political detainee Fayez Sarah told Index: “The policies of the Assad regime pushed me and many activists to confront [them], as muzzling voices and preventing political and civil activities motivated me to engage in political and social work.” Sarah said he had been arrested several times simply for participating in opposition political activities.
The second tool used was that of the “official” media, which became the regime’s only voice. The official media was focused on perpetuating the public image of Assad’s regime, and presenting his version of events without space for other opinions. All mass media TV channels and newspapers were under direct control of the state, which ensured the promotion of the regime’s ideology and the obscuration of truth.
Journalist and writer Ali Safar recalled that while working for a state media organisation, creativity was rejected, and security reports suppressed any attempt to deviate from the official line.
The third oppressive weapon was direct repression against activists and journalists. Syria is one of the most dangerous countries for journalists, having witnessed unprecedented levels of violence towards media workers over the past few years. According to Reporters Without Borders, Syria has lagged behind in the Global Press Freedom Index, consistently ranking amongst the 10 worst countries since the outbreak of the Syrian revolution in 2011.
Under the Assad regime, journalists were subjected to arbitrary arrests, torture, and enforced disappearances. In areas of armed opposition, despite there being space for independent media, journalists have also been threatened and kidnapped by some factions who saw media coverage as a threat to their interests.
As journalist Sakhr Idris told Index: “Even in liberated areas, journalists faced challenges such as the intervention of military factions and pressure from funders or local communities.”
At least 300 journalists were killed whilst covering the civil war, whilst others lived in exile or under constant threat. Thousands of people have been threatened, arrested and forcibly disappeared. Muhannad Omar has been forcibly disappeared since 2012. His fate is currently unknown but there are fears that he was tortured and killed in detention in prison.
The Impact of the Syrian revolution on freedom of expression
With the outbreak of the Syrian revolution, social media platforms began to play a crucial role in breaking the regime’s monopoly on the media.
Activists have used platforms such as Facebook and Twitter to convey the truth to the world, and expose the regime’s abuses.
Citizen media began to emerge as an alternative to official media, with on-the-ground journalists relying on simple technology to circulate coverage of demonstrations and violations.
But despite a promising start, freedom of expression has faced numerous challenges as the conflict morphed into an all-out war. The regime’s repression continued in new forms, including through digital smear campaigns and intensive surveillance.
In areas outside of the regime’s control, armed factions also began to impose their own visions, limiting press freedom.
The takeover of the Syrian State Television building
After the fall of the Syrian regime on 8 December, concerns emerged about the future of the official media as new forces started to dominate the media landscape. One such case was the takeover of the Syrian State Television building in Damascus, raising widespread concern that the official media could turn from a tool to serve the regime into a platform that promotes the vision of dominant rebel groups.
For example, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the group which led the deposition of Assad, is known for its directed political and religious rhetoric, and may use state television to spread its ideology and strengthen its influence over public opinion in Syria.
The move also raises questions about the fate of free and pluralistic media in a post-Assad Syria, especially with the country’s record of restricting press freedom, suppressing independent journalists, and directing the media to serve its political and religious goals.
There is also a risk that media domination will be used to expand repression, leaving Syria stuck in the cycle of media tyranny under different names and parties.
These concerns highlight the greater challenge of ensuring the independence of the official media in this transitional period and putting in place laws to protect it from political or ideological influences that may divert it from its true role as a platform for all Syrians.
Future challenges to freedom of expression after Assad
One major obstacle is the absence of an existing legal and constitutional framework to protect free expression.
Ali Safar, a Syrian writer and executive producer of Radio Sout Raya, a Syrian radio station based in Istanbul, believes that “the only guarantee of freedom of expression is a sophisticated and dynamic media law that revitalises public space”.
Another challenge is existing societal conflict; the war has left deep sectarian divisions that have affected public debate and discourse.
According to Sheikh Riad Drar al-Hamood, a Syrian opposition political activist, writer and human rights activist, the traditional religious community has not helped to build an environment that respects pluralism, but rather has supported authoritarianism under the umbrella of traditional law.
However, he says the role of religious groups will be significant in future, and forward-thinking individuals within them can “form an incubator for the new society”. “The enlightened voices among the clergy can be leaders of social liberation, but unfortunately they are few,” he said. For instance, Sheikh Muhammad Rateb al-Nabulsi and the late Sheikh Jawdat Saeed were supporters of moderate thought in Syria, and called for change by peaceful means. Their influence combined to promote the values of dialogue and tolerance, which made them distinguished voices in the face of tyranny and extremism.
International actors will also have a key role to play in establishing a pluralistic media. Supporting Syria’s democratic transition depends heavily on international support, which is conditional on political reforms. A transition is needed that draws on the experiences of other countries to avoid media and political chaos.
The role of civil society organisations and activists within Syria will also be crucial. Civil society is a key hope for building a free space. According to Fayez Sarah, political and civil activism has contributed to changing the relationship between Syrians and the regime, as they have become more emboldened in expressing their opinions.
But challenges remain significant, including security threats and the stress of living under threat of prosecution.
Comparing Syria with other global experiences
The state of free expression in Syria can be compared to the experiences of other countries such as Iran and Chechnya, where societies have faced similar pressures around the suppression of dissenting voices and the use of religious or national authority to tighten control.
Even before Iran’s 1979 revolution, freedom of expression was limited under the regime of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, where the press and civil society were censored, and the SAVAK (the Bureau for Intelligence and Security of the State) was used to muzzle voices. While Iranians dreamed of the right to free expression after the revolution, repression has shifted in character from political to ideological.
The new Islamic regime imposed tight control on the media, as obedience to Wali al-Faqih – a doctrine that means the transfer of political and religious authority over to the Shia clergy – became a criterion for the legitimacy of media and intellectual discourse.
Although dissenting voices have emerged from within the religious establishment – such as Ayatollah Hussein-Ali Montazeri – they have been marginalised and suppressed, which is consistent with Sheikh al-Hamood’s assertion that enlightened voices in religious communities often have little impact.
Similarly to Syria, in Iran religion or nationality has been used officially to justify restricting freedoms and turning the media into a tool for official propaganda.
In Chechnya, freedom of expression has been heavily affected by armed conflicts and wars between the Russian government and separatist movements.
During the First (1994-1996) and Second (1999-2009) Chechen Wars, independent journalism was virtually wiped out. Russian authorities and local groups have used the media as a propaganda weapon against the opposition, reminiscent of the Syrian regime’s control over the media during and after the revolution.
In the post-conflict era, freedom of expression remained limited under the head of the Chechen Republic, Ramzan Kadyrov. Independent journalists were imprisoned and political activity was suppressed. As in Syria, armed conflicts have weakened the free media and have led to the authorities’ exploitation of nationalism and religion to justify repression.
In Iran, Chechnya and Syria, freedom of expression has been affected by volatile political phases and armed conflicts. Free expression was the first casualty of repressive regimes that used religion or nationalism as a pretext for control.
Global experiences continue to offer useful lessons for Syria in the future, as they can be leveraged to build a free media system that respects pluralism and promotes national reconciliation.
Looking to the future
The journey of freedom of expression in Syria is a reflection of the stages that the country has gone through politically and socially, from systematic repression under Assad, to limited openness during the revolution, to successive setbacks as the conflict escalated. There are many challenges to building an environment that incubates free expression post-Assad, from the need for a constitution that protects the right to confront sectarian discourse, to rebuilding trust between the media and society. But despite this, there is still hope that Syria could become a model for free expression within the region.
This article was translated and edited from Arabic by Hussein Maamo.
6 Jan 2025 | Europe and Central Asia, France
This week, 7 January 2025 marks exactly ten years since the Charlie Hebdo attacks, when Islamist gunmen stormed the satirical magazine’s Paris editorial office and killed 11 people over cartoons of the Prophet Muhammed. A month after the attack, the Turkish writer Elif Shafak wrote for us on the increasingly divisive world in which we live, and the urgent need to differentiate between the right to be offended and the right to commit violence. Ten years on, with the proliferation of fractious rhetoric on social media, her words seem more poignant than ever. To mark the anniversary of the tragedy, we have republished Shafak’s piece below. It was originally published online on 12 March 2015, and in print in Volume 44, Issue 1 of Index on Censorship. Charlie Hebdo has also produced a special edition to mark ten years, which you can read more about here.
After the horrific attacks against the French satirical journal Charlie Hebdo and a Jewish supermarket in Paris, the world has turned into a Tower of Babel where there are too many languages spoken but too little, if any, real communication. Ever since those three days of terror in France, across the globe there has been more anger than sorrow, more emotional backlash than rational analysis, and more confusion than insight.
As heartwarming as it was to see millions of Parisians march against religious extremism and countless others show their solidarity via hashtags and messages on social media, we cannot ignore the fact that a rather disturbing cognitive gap is opening up between different parts of the world and different segments of humanity. Even in the face of atrocity, humankind is failing to speak the same language.
Among the political leaders who marched in Paris there were quite a few with a lamentable human rights curriculum vitae. While Saudi Arabia was quick to send a representative to France, the regime did not shy away from publicly lashing Raif Badawi, a liberal blogger, for his views. Israel, Russia and Egypt, among others, have been criticised for their double standards at home and abroad. Turkey, my motherland, has a shocking number of journalists and cartoonists either in prison or facing trial.
No doubt, the most moving response to the act of brutality came from cartoonists across the globe. With powerful images and few words they showed their unflinching support for freedom of expression. But those of us who cannot draw, and therefore must talk or write have done a poor job in general. With every aggrandising remark the cognitive gap widened.
Former French President Nicolas Sarkozy claimed: “This is a war declared on civilization.” Soon after, the Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan announced: “French citizens carry out such a massacre, and Muslims pay a price.” He then added: “Games are being played with the Islamic world, we need to be aware of this.” Such statements only served to increase conspiracy theories, which abound throughout the Middle East. Meanwhile journalists, academics and writers lampooned each other. The response to a book is another book.
So far, the language over Charlie Hebdo has been more divisive than unifying. Even the usage of conjunctions is a problem. After the tragedy, a top-level politician in Turkey tweeted that it was wrong to kill journalists, but they should not have mocked Islamic values. Never had the word “but” disturbed me so much.
The controversy had important echoes inside Turkey. The secularist newspaper Cumhuriyet wrote a powerful statement, saying that having lost some of their own writers to terrorism in the past, they understood so well the pain of the Charlie Hebdo killings. But the AKP government was of a different mind. The prime minister said printing the cartoons would be considered “heavy sedition” and they would not allow anyone to insult the Prophet. Accordingly, a court order was issued to prohibit access to Turkish websites that insisted in publishing Charlie Hebdo’s recent cover.
In response, independent news website T24 openly defied the court ban and published the entire issue of the magazine. And people kept spreading the cover via their Twitter and Facebook accounts. It was interesting to see how many of these reactions came from people who were already tired of the AKP government’s restrictive attitudes towards freedom of speech. As always, Turkey’s social media operated as a political platform. Over the years as media freedoms shrunk visibly, the social media became more and more politicised.
Every journalist, every poet, every novelist in Turkey knows words carry a heavy weight, and they can get you in trouble. We know that only too well that because of a poem, an article, a novel, or even a tweet we can be sued, put on trial, demonised, even imprisoned. When we write, we write with this knowledge at the back of our minds. As a result there is a lot of silent self-censorship. Yet we find it rather difficult to talk about this subject, mostly because it is embarrassing.
As a Turkish writer both freedom of speech and freedom of imagination are precious to me. When I travel in Muslim-majority countries I often hear people saying “I am offended, don’t I have a right to be?” Yet I believe we are making a grave mistake by focusing on the word “offence”, and questioning whether art can be offensive or people have a right to be offended. We are stuck in a mental trap as long as we cannot manage to discuss violence and offence separately.
We need to divorce the two notions. It is perfectly human to be offended in the face of mockery, opprobrium or slander. That is understandable. Hindus, Jews, Muslims, Christians or agnostics, we can all feel offended by something someone says, writes or does. But that is where the line must be drawn. What is inhuman and unacceptable is to resort to violence and shed blood in response.
The response to a book is another book. The response to an article is writing a counter-article. The response to cartoons is more cartoons, not fewer. Words need to be answered with words. This simple equation is what we have failed to teach to both the younger generations and ourselves.
Let’s be clear: this is not a clash of civilizations. It is not even a battle of religions. Yet it is a clash, and a deepening one, between two mindsets. The real chasm is between those of us who believe in pluralistic democracy, culture of co-existence and the value of diversity and cosmopolitanism, and those who have chosen to divide humanity into mutually exclusive camps: us versus them. It is a cognitive clash therefore.
As Sufis have been saying throughout the centuries, we are all profoundly interconnected. Globalism has way too often been interpreted as an economic and political phenomenon. Yet it also means that our futures, our stories and our destinies are interconnected. The unhappiness of someone living in Pakistan affects the happiness of someone living in Belgium or Australia. We must understand that in this complex web of relations any divisive rhetoric is bound to create more of the same.
Extremism somewhere breeds extremism elsewhere. Islamophobia spawns anti-Westernism and anti-Westernism spawns Islamophobia. A far-right racist in Germany might regard a Taliban man in Pakistan as his arch-enemy but in fact, they are kindred spirits. They share surprisingly similar narrow mindsets. And what’s more, they need each other to exist and to thrive.
We need to get out of the vicious circle of division and hatred before it engulfs us all. Together we must stand and speak up for pluralistic democracy and harmonious coexistence. At the same time, however, now is the time to think about the response we have given to the tragedy calmly and carefully. In this response lie the hidden important clues to our strengths and weaknesses as fellow human beings and the sharpest dilemmas that will continue to beset the world in the 21st century.
19 Dec 2024 | News, Newsletters
Hello, readers. This will be our final newsletter before Index wraps up for the holiday season. It’s been quite the year for freedom of expression, and whilst it’s not easy to summarise in one email, we’ve had a go. We’ve seen severe violations by repressive governments – but we’ve also seen remarkable acts of defiance by political activists, journalists and protesters.
These acts of defiance leave room for hope. In Russia, the year started with the suspicious death of Alexei Navalny whilst in detention, arguably Vladimir Putin’s most vocal critic (you can read an obituary by journalist John Sweeney here). But it was then punctuated with the release of opposition leader Vladimir Kara-Murza in a prisoner swap in August, after relentless campaigning led by his wife, Evgenia, who we ultimately awarded in this year’s Freedom of Expression Awards.
Another huge win for international protest was the release of Iranian political activist Toomaj Salehi in December, following his death sentence being overturned in June. Of course, there are many activists who remain behind bars and Index will continue to campaign for their release. Dozens of pro-democracy campaigners in Hong Kong – the Hong Kong 47 – were given harsh prison sentences of between four and 10 years in November, whilst prominent Chinese #MeToo activist (and previous Index award winner) Sophia Huang Xueqin was sentenced to five years in June. British-Egyptian political activist Alaa Abd el-Fattah was also denied freedom, even after serving his five-year jail term.
Throughout the year, we’ve seen media workers and independent reporting targeted in the most pernicious ways, including through targeted murder, particularly in war zones such as Gaza. Palestine has now become the most dangerous place to be a journalist, and you can read Al Jazeera English journalist Youmna El Sayed’s first-hand account on the risks of covering the conflict here. Meanwhile, media workers in Sudan face similar threats and persecution with seldom international attention, in what has been described as the “forgotten war”.
Alongside the brave pursuits of journalists, regular citizens have also stood up to their governments – with varying degrees of success. Alleged fraudulent elections in Georgia, Mozambique and Venezuela have caused the public to take to the streets in defiance of corruption. Whilst peaceful protests have resulted in violent crackdowns, there is cause for hope: a citizen-led democratic activism project in Venezuela was used to capture accurate voting tallies, and could prove to be a blueprint for fighting election fraud globally in the future, reported Martin Bright. And who could forget South Korea’s “no worries if not!” moment – when president Yoon Suk Yeol’s attempt at enforcing martial law was shut down within six hours thanks to mass assembly.
As we approach 2025, an uncertain future awaits. Repressive laws in Afghanistan have caused it to become the world’s most silenced nation, particularly for women, who under terrifying Taliban morality laws can no longer speak in public. Next year, will the international community stand up for women in the country and rally against what human rights groups are calling “gender apartheid”?
In the USA, a second Trump presidency could also bring with it a chilling impact on free expression, particularly for minority groups. You can read Emma Briant’s fascinating piece on the potential effect on university free thought in the “Land of Liberty” here. Meanwhile, the overthrowing of Syrian president Bashar al-Assad’s repressive regime means thousands of political dissidents have been liberated from the dictator’s inhumane prisons – but what could a future rebel-run regime really mean for the country’s freedoms?
We’ll be back in January. In the meantime, do make sure you read our latest magazine issue, Unsung Heroes: How musicians are raising their voices against oppression. If you’d like to subscribe, we have a special offer running until 3 January – you can enjoy 30% off an annual digital subscription by using the discount code Winter24 at checkout here, meaning it costs just £12.60.
Wishing you all a restful break, and hopefully a brighter 2025.
19 Dec 2024 | News, Pakistan
In the last week of November, Pakistan went into what was essentially an internet blackout. Social media apps like WhatsApp were inaccessible after the authorities blocked internet and mobile phone services. This was ahead of a planned march to Islamabad by supporters of former Prime Minister Imran Khan’s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf party (PTI), in protest of Khan’s imprisonment.
The government cited security concerns and initially said it would be a partial shutdown, but internet delays and shutdowns were reported across the country. Two weeks after the protest, users were still reporting connection delays that are impacting both their communications and their livelihoods. In addition to this most recent internet shutdown, Pakistani authorities have also restricted connection through a content specific “firewall”.
This isn’t the only form of censorship seen in Pakistan amid the crackdown on PTI’s long march, both before and after the event. Prominent journalist Matiullah Jan was picked up by a group of unidentified individuals from Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (PIMS) hospital in Islamabad on 28 November and released on 30 November on bail under a narcotics and terror case that international human rights organisations are calling “bogus” and “baseless”.
Soon after his abduction, his son put out a statement calling out authorities for arresting his father over his reporting. Jan was also abducted in 2020, and is one of many journalists in Pakistan who continue to be punished for their work.
Farieha Aziz, a Karachi-based journalist and director of digital rights organisation Bolo Bhi, told Index that Pakistan’s increase in crackdowns and censorship in recent years impacts people in one of two ways.
“Some will [fight it] even more, and some will become more circumspect,” she said. Experts believe that what happened around the protest seems to be the final piece in long drawn-out efforts to slowly curb internet access and freedom of expression in the country.
With internet access being shut down regularly whenever there’s a major event — including protests and elections — these attempts are becoming increasingly successful.
“These restrictions will only increase. They aren’t something that will go away with time,” said digital rights researcher Seerat Khan, adding that authoritarianism is increasing across the globe and that those influences are being seen in Pakistan too.
Aziz added that Pakistan’s direction makes it comparable with countries which are known for their questionable human rights records. She said that parallels can be made with Myanmar and China, for instance, and restricting the use of virtual private networks (VPNs) can be compared to Russia.
What’s particularly concerning activists and everyday citizens is that this censorship is becoming part of everyday life. Aside from the complete internet shutdowns — which already cause significant damage — internet delays and bans on certain content are also common and a lot harder to spot.
Digital rights activist and researcher Anam Baloch explained that by not blocking entire platforms all the time, Pakistan’s internet bans aren’t always immediately detectable.
“Recently, WhatsApp and Instagram issues were reported but when we tested [them] on OONI [Open Observatory of Network Interference] they were fine because they were not blocking entire platforms,” Baloch told Index.
It’s not just freedom of expression that’s impacted. Pakistan’s economy heavily relies on its growing digital sector, and the country produces 20,000 IT graduates every year — many of whom work as freelancers or in small startups that rely on the internet. IT industry trade association, the Pakistan Software Houses Association (P@SHA), released a statement predicting that the disruptions could result in a loss of $300 million for the country’s IT sector.
“A lot of reporting has been done on how it affects freelancers and small businesses, which is true because they don’t have backups. But what the media is [leaving] out is that the internet forms the basis of most businesses, even in Pakistan, where for some reason people think it doesn’t matter. Everything works on some kind of digital connectivity,” freelance cybercrime and tech journalist Sindhu Abbasi said.
All of these impacts are linked together, Khan added, and freedom of expression directly links to other freedoms like access to information and freedom of association and assembly.
“All these freedoms are under attack,” she said. And there’s no longer much room to challenge the restrictions.”
“You’re out of options of what to do. [Before] you could file a public interest litigation or speak to someone in parliament,” Aziz said, adding: “Not that [anything] happened because of that, but at least there was this dialogue — and now there’s no dialogue.”
Censorship has been slowly increasing, while Pakistanis have looked on in horror as they’ve felt unable to do anything to prevent it. First came the internet and mobile services shutdowns during election days and important events. Then in February of this year, X was banned, as the Interior Ministry claimed the platform was a “threat to peace and national security.”
Abbasi said that under the former PTI government, “the internet would be blocked in areas we call ‘peripheries’, such as Balochistan and Gilgit-Baltistan”. More recently, reports of internet bans in Kurram after problems with sectarian violence in November and in Pakistan-administered Kashmir during protests in May, show just how much the government relies on these bans as a form of control.
For now, rights advocates are losing hope of finding a way out, and many have told Index that things may only get worse from here.
