22 Oct 2025 | Azerbaijan, Balochistan, Bangladesh, Belarus, China, Europe and Central Asia, Georgia, Georgia, Germany, India, Israel, Kazakhstan, Magazine Contents, Myanmar, North Korea, Palestine, Thailand, Turkey, Ukraine, United Kingdom, United States, Volume 54.03 Autumn 2025, Yemen
Contents
It is difficult to spend a day without using artificial intelligence.
Whether we look up a fact on Google or use our car’s navigation system, AI is helping to guide us. AI is not human, but is increasingly taking on human characteristics. Want to write a five-year strategy for work? AI can give you the structure. A text to the lover you’re breaking up with, ChatGPT is on hand with the perfect choice of words. Even as I compose this editor’s letter in a Word document, the sinisterly named Copilot – Microsoft’s AI assistant – is hovering in the margin with the tantalising offer that it could do a better job.
So what does it all mean for free expression? We asked a range of writers to explore themes around censorship and AI for this latest issue, and the result is fascinating. Kate Devlin delves into griefbots which are essentially deepfakes of dead people – often with all their unpleasant characteristics removed.
Innocent enough but in the wrong hands they are pernicious. A country’s political hero can be resurrected to encourage causes they would have disavowed were they alive. Ruth Green looks at whether AI has free speech.
In a recent US lawsuit, the owner of a chatbot which had been talking to a teenager, in a sexualised way, before he killed himself, argued that the bot’s communications were covered by the First Amendment. Luckily the judge threw the case out.
Meanwhile Timandra Harkness examines how AI can trawl social media to discover every word you’ve ever written.
Up Front
Truth, trust & tricksters in the age of AI: Sally Gimson
Artificial intelligence is here to stay, but is free expression at risk?
The Index: Mark Stimpson
The latest in the world of free expression, including travel bans for artists and the ongoing trial of Jimmy Lai
Features
Strength in numbers: Antonia Langford
Burmese artist Sai thought he was safe in Thailand, until the censors came knocking
Jailed for criticising the royal family: Tyrell Haberkorn Sophon “Get” Suratitthamrong
A Thai student protester sends letters from prison
Midnight trek to Georgia: Will Neal
A journalist tries to return to Georgia, after being smeared by its government
The trauma of being Lukashenka’s prisoner: Jana Paliashchuk
A sit-down with released Belarusian political prisoners, including Siarhei Tsikhanouski
Caught in the middle: Akbar Notezai
The murder of a journalist has further restricted the media in Balochistan
Reports of Urdu’s death are greatly exaggerated: Nilosree Biswas
Urdu is thriving among young people
The Squid Game effect: Katie Dancey-Downs
K-drama might be the greatest weapon against the North Korean regime
We’re blaming everybody: Laura Silvia Battaglia
Yemeni women take over a poignant location, and refuse to be silenced
A journalist’s life in Yemen: Khalid Mohamed
The reporters holding the line while under fire
Without more women in power, the regime can force its patriarchal agenda: Emily Couch
A picture of feminism in Kazakhstan
Erasing secularism: Rishabh Jain
Bangladesh is at a crossroads, and religious freedom is under threat
Special Report: Truth, trust & tricksters: Free expression in the age of AI
Is AI friend or foe?: Kenneth Cukier
The future of free thought is in the hands of big tech
The ghost in the machine: Kate Devlin
Awakening the dead might have implications for free speech
I, robot?: Ruth Green
Should AI bots enjoy free speech protections?
The dark side of AI adoption in Turkey: Kaya Genç
Dissidents could be at increased risk, if President Erdoğan has a hand in shaping technology
Deepfake it to make it: Danson Kahyana
Uganda has a new way to sow seeds of doubt about its critics
History is being written by the AI victors: Salil Tripathi
An age-old problem, with new technological capabilities
Digging in the (social media) dirt: Timandra Harkness
Could your old tweets be your downfall?
A new frontier of American propaganda: Mackenzie Argent
Trump is on a mission to meme America great again
Comment
Blown to pieces: how the UK government’s Muslim policy unravelled: Martin Bright
We need to talk about extremism
Freedom of speech needs freedom of thought: Maria Sorensen
The first defence against dictatorships? Free thinking
What’s the story?: Nadim Sadek, Toby Litt, Anna Ganley
Three writers discuss whether artificial intelligence will help or hinder literature
The rise of the useful idiot: Jemimah Steinfeld
Apologists and the wilfully ignorant. Just how dangerous are they?
The women silenced by the law: Jessica Ní Mhainín
Lawsuits are being wielded by the powerful to keep victims quiet
Culture
Killing the messenger: Peter Laufer, Mackenzie Argent
A new book hands the megaphone to journalists in danger
The Missing Palestinians: Martha Otwinowski
Germany’s painful past is haunting its cultural institutions
The pity of war: Stephen Komarnyckyj
Preserving the memory of Ukraine’s poets, killed in Russia’s war
Cry God for Larry!: Simon Callow, Laurence Olivier
The actor shares his memories of Laurence Olivier
Frozen feud: Baia Pataraia
What it means to pose a threat to the Georgian government
10 Oct 2025 | Asia and Pacific, News and features, Pakistan
The weather was pleasantly cool in the Degari area outside Quetta when I visited along with a local guide at the end of September. There is silence because the population is scattered. But the district is dominated by the local Satakzai tribesmen in this part of Balochistan, a southwestern province of Pakistan, sharing a border with Afghanistan and Iran.
In recent months, the Degari region has attracted nationwide media attention for all the wrong reasons: a gruesome video went viral on social media, in which a couple can be seen being shot multiple times at point blank range.
They were later identified as Noor Bano Satakzai and Ehsan Sumalani. And they were killed in the name of honour - the murder of a person, especially of a girl, bringing shame to the family. In most of the cases, the victims are killed for refusing to marry, committing adultery or being in a relationship that displeases their relatives or family members. The crimes are frequently committed by those family members against their female relatives. In this case it was allegedly the local tribal council, the Jirga which was involved in their deaths.
“In Balochistan, honour killings take place due to socio-economic reasons, as well to show muscular power by men to settle personal scores over matters such as land disputes and debts,” says Sadia Baloch, a human rights defender in Balochistan who documents gender-based violence.
“When I studied cases in Balochistan, I came across a lot of cases in a short period, in which women have been silenced or killed in the name of honour.”
Sadia hails from Balochistan’s Nasirabad belt, where women are routinely silenced. One tragic incident in this region took place in 2008, when three teenage girls – believed to have been aged between 16 and 18 – were buried alive in an honour killing.
In a high-profile case in 2023, three bullet-riddled bodies—one girl and two boys—were found in a well near the house of Balochistan’s minister and tribal chief Sardar Abdur Rehman Khetran. He was arrested in connection with the triple murder and for keeping the children in his private jail in Balochistan. He was given bail and quickly released and remains in the Provincial Assembly of Balochistan.
Even after the Degari incident, honour killings continue to take place in the said division and innocent lives are taken away, particularly of women and girls.
According to Sadia, families abandon if not kill women involved (even allegedly) in cases of honour. They give women to the Sardars (tribal leaders), particularly in the Sindh province, who hold social legitimacy and who largely decide their fate.
This can involve them being forcibly married off in exchange for money, made to work as servants in the Sardar's home or being murdered in an honour killing which take place with absolute impunity.
“The families hand over their girls to the tribal heads who sell them out [and] take a small amount,” she laments. “The said cases don’t get reported at all, which is why there is no end to the women being silenced in the name of honour.”
According to human rights organisations, a thousand women are killed in the name of honour in Pakistan annually, although most of these cases go unreported in the country itself.
The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) states that at least 405 women were killed in Pakistan in the name of honour in 2024.
According to activists, the actual figure is higher because cases of honour killings don’t come into the limelight, because they get buried along with the victims.
Punjab is one of four provinces that share the grisly record of having most honour killings.
Based in Lahore, Punjab’s provincial capital, Sunny Zia works at the HRCP.
“It is a known fact Punjab is the most populous province in a country with a population of over 100 million people, where almost half of Pakistan lives. This is why the figure related to honour killings of the women is reportedly higher than the other provinces. There is better media coverage too,” Sunny told Index.
“In Punjab, there is a strong caste system just like in India. In many cases, honour killings are related to the caste system as well when inter-caste marriages take place which are not socially accepted.”
Shah Mohammad Marri, a prolific author and historian who writes frequently about tribal affairs, told Index: “In Pakistan’s tribal belt, Sardars get to decide about cases of honour killings as there are no laws or police stations for the local tribesmen. The reason, the Sardar is the supreme authority there and they rule the roost.”
Jahanzeb Rind, an assistant professor at LUMS (Lahore University of Management Sciences), told Index: “In Pakistan’s patriarchal society, even though both male and female couples are killed in the name of honour, the majority of the victims are female.”
“Our judicial system is weak,” added Rind. “The state has neither given its citizens the proper rights nor due statuses, especially in the tribal belt of the country, which is why people go to tribal leaders to sort out their issues out of court. This is why honour killing persists."
While writing this piece, I picked up a newspaper and came across an article about Pakistan’s women which attracted my attention for all the wrong reasons.
The article said 93% of women in Pakistan experience some form of sexual violence in public places during their lifetime and 73% of women and girls face physical or sexual violence from their intimate partners, family members, friends, relatives or neighbours; 62% of the reported victims are between 10 and 19 years old.
Pakistan has clearly failed its women.
Honour killings are the pinnacle of this shame but the problems go deeper. Even today, women are silenced in the name of honour as if society was still living in medieval times.
20 Nov 2013 | News and features, Pakistan, Politics and Society

Members of Baloch Shohada Committee lighten candles during a protest against Baloch genocide on the occasion of Youm-e-Shohada-e-Baloch. (ppiimages / Demotix)
Farzana Majeed holds Pakistani media as responsible for the disappearances of thousands of Baloch nationalists as the state security apparatus, labelling it a "very willing accomplice."
29-year old Majeed is among the two dozen people on a long march organised by the Voice of Missing Baloch Persons (VOMBP) which has protesting for the last four years. They are demanding the return of their loved ones, who they allege have been illegally apprehended and detained by Pakistan's intelligence and security agencies.
"The media should be the voice of the victims and report on the atrocities committed on our people; instead they are pressured into silence by the state", she said.
The march began on October 27 from Quetta in Balochistan covering a distance of almost 700 km, and will reach Karachi, in the Sindh province, by the end of the week. There, outside the Karachi Press Club, they will hold an indefinite sit-in and hunger strike. The marchers started with covering anywhere between 35 to 40 km/day, but blisters and illness are slowing down progress to barely 25km a day.
The mineral-rich Balochistan is the largest of the four provinces of Pakistan, and was an independent state until 1947, when Pakistan annexed its eastern side and Iran its western side. For many Baloch families, since the disappearances began more than a decade back, life has not been the same.
According to Qadeer Baloch who founded the VOMBP, around 18,000 Baloch nationalists, including doctors, professors, politicians and students, have been abducted since 2001. "We have received mutilated corpses of 1,500 of them."
Farzana Majeed's brother Zakri was abducted four years ago from the city of Mastung. He was the vice president of the Baloch Students Organisation (Azad), a nationalist student group raising awareness of the rights of the Baloch on campuses. Despite holding a double master's in biochemistry and Balochi language, Majeed said her life has been put on "on hold" and her three siblings and mother rendered "homeless" since Zakri's disappearance. She hasn't heard any news of him for three years.
Baloch's own son Jalil Reiki, the information secretary of Baloch Republican Party, was picked up in 2009. Almost two years and eight months later, his tortured and bullet-riddled body was found.
"The disappearances started way back in 2001 during president Pervez Musharraf's rule but this human rights abuse came on public radar in 2004-05 after the women -- mothers, sisters and wives -- started coming out and began protesting," explained Malik Siraj Akbar, editor of online English newspaper The Baloch Hal. He said Baloch women hardly ever come out publicly and so when they did, they were bound to be noticed.
"Except for BBC, and a couple of English national dailies, no other media is supporting us," said Baloch, who is leading the march. The lukewarm response, however, has failed to deter the marchers. "It is a way of teaching our coming generation the value of speaking up,” Baloch told Pakistan's Dawn newspaper.
"Some of our friends in the media have disclosed that the intelligence agencies have warned and threatened them from covering our peaceful protest; others have been told that we are causing bad publicity internationally," he added.
Akbar, who has taken asylum in the United States after most of his friends and colleagues were killed, said: "I know the agencies have been threatening the protesters with dire consequences and forcing them to shut down their camps and end the rally." However, he added that he was not aware of any "threats or pressure on the media from the agencies and the government".
But according to the chairperson of the independent Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, Zohra Yusuf, "journalists in Balochistan are under pressure from the Frontier Corps [federal reserve military force], the Baloch separatists as well as the religious extremists".
Mazhar Abbas, a former secretary general of the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists, speculated that the poor coverage of the march, as well as the issue of disappearances, may be due to the "influence used on media barons by the intelligence agencies".
While he emphasised the electronic media had covered the Supreme Court hearings around the issue at length, he found it had never been tackled properly from a human rights angle. He lamented the "non-professional" attitude of the print media which did not find the issue grave enough to do investigative reporting on it.
The missing are no longer an “exciting” story so they are not covered by the national media, Akbar said. "Unfortunately, nobody seems to care much about it in a country where dozens of people are killed every day," he said.
Zohra Yusuf also said the urban-based media did not seem particularly interested in the issue as it was more "ratings oriented".
As for the on-going march not able to attract media's attention, Abbas suggested that had it been led by "known political or nationalist figures", it would have automatically lured the media to it.
A recent HRCP report, based on a fact-finding mission to Balochistan, stated that while the people of the province have pinned their hopes on the new government to address the problems, especially regarding the "grave human rights violations", many do not see any visible policy change "within the security and intelligence agencies", as the "kill-and-dump policy" continued.
According to Malik Siraj Akbar, while the ongoing long march isn't any different from past demonstration, it is the "first major protest" since the new governments in the province and the centre took over the reins.
"The long march reflects the new government's failure to resurface the missing persons and normalise the situation in Balochistan," he pointed out.
This article was originally published on 20 Nov 2013 at indexoncensorship.org