Censorship and Freedom of Expression

What can the quick rise—and equally quick fall—of a state-approved app that allows Chinese netizens limited access to western social media tell us about the CCP’s evolving approach to information, censorship, and internet governance?

Tear gas is banned in international warfare, and its health risks are well-documented. Still, it remains a crowd-control agent of choice for police worldwide.

In response to internet censorship by governments across the continent, Africans have turned to technologies of freedom to access blocked content online.

Maurice Kamto is the leader of the Cameroon Renaissance Movement (MRC) and was the main challenger in Cameroon’s 2018 presidential election. He was imprisoned by the government from January to October in 2019. Nearly one year ago, on August 2, 2019, journalist Samuel Ajiekah Abuwe—better known as Wazizi—was arrested and detained by government forces in Buea, located in the South-West region of Cameroon. Since 2017, Buea has been home to unrelenting violence between the government and separatist fighters. For three hundred days after his arrest, despite numerous domestic and international calls to produce Wazizi, authorities in Cameroon remained silent about his fate. This detention was indeed a textbook case of enforced disappearance. Despite holding out bleak hopes that Wazizi might eventually emerge alive, our worst fears came true when we learned he had died in custody following torture.  Like many other critics in Cameroon—including additional journalists—Wazizi was accused of “collaborating with separatists,” though his lawyers claim he had not been charged with any offense prior to his disappearance. I personally experienced this treatment. In early 2019, I was charged by a military court with rebellion and “hostility to the homeland” after my political party—the Cameroon Renaissance Movement (CRM)—staged peaceful protests in major cities, following a rigged presidential election in October 2018. Since that time, I have been repeatedly intimidated by the government and its associated militia groups, often being threatened with arrest and death. Luckily, I am alive today and can raise my voice, while Wazizi can no longer. His commitment to basic freedoms, and his legacy, will surely live on. Importantly as well, his death at the hands of Cameroonian authorities raises major questions about the future of our country. Just last week—for the second year in a row—Cameroon topped the Norwegian Refugee Council’s list of “most neglected crises” worldwide. Our country is hemorrhaging under the boots of a dictatorship. More than ever, we need international assistance. Indeed, for Cameroon to meet the long-subdued aspirations of its people, we must implement a democratic agenda—a viable path forward. The situation demands leadership and it is evident that the current ruling regime is unwilling to exercise the necessary courage. First and foremost, all political prisoners incarcerated in Cameroon must be released—this would include Ayuk Tabe, the Anglophone separatist leader, and Mamadou Yakuba, our first Vice-President at the CRM. Secondly, to ensure that Wazizi’s death is not in vain, the government and key political and civic actors, should agree to a consensual political roadmap that principally includes an overhaul of the electoral system to end the ongoing post-electoral crisis. Lastly, we must agree to definitively end our country’s ongoing civil war in the Anglophone regions. Too often over the years, the government has used conflict to justify the incarceration of journalists like Wazizi and opposition leaders like myself and my colleagues. This is why the international community must organize an all-inclusive dialogue with Cameroonian leaders across the political spectrum. This initiative would ideally fall under the auspices of the United Nations and cooperate directly with African Union leadership and Cameroon’s development partners. For now, it is not yet too late to act. But act we must.

Yesterday (U.S. time), editor Maria Ressa, one of the most prominent journalists in the Philippines, and indeed in the world—she was selected as one of Time’s people of the year in 2018 and featured on its cover—was found guilty by a Philippine court on charges of cyber libel. The charges related to a story about the former chief justice of the Philippines’ top court. Reynaldo Santos Jr., who wrote the story, also was found guilty of cyber libel. Though the two were released on bail, they face up to six years in jail on the charges. The charges are extremely controversial. The story Santos Jr. wrote actually was published before the Philippines even had a cyber-libel law, and Santos Jr. and editor Ressa were charged after Rappler, their publication, updated the article online to fix a typo after the law came in effect. The cyber-libel law is also easily used to try to silence independent journalists. And Ressa faces a load of other charges too, which seem designed to silence her and Rappler. The Guardian notes: Ressa also faces another libel prosecution, two criminal cases alleging illegal foreign ownership in her companies, and investigations into her old tax returns. The various allegations made against Ressa could lead to about 100 years in prison. After a career at CNN, Ressa, a dual citizen of the Philippines and the United States, now runs Rappler, one of the toughest, most groundbreaking, and independent reporting outlets in the Philippines, a country with a tradition of a vibrant press—and also of brutal crackdowns on journalists. Reporters Without Borders regularly ranks the Philippines as one of the most dangerous places in Asia to work as a journalist, and in 2009 the country witnessed what the Committee to Project Journalists has called the worst single massacre of journalists in history, when 34 journalists (and 58 people total) were slain in Maguindanao province. Journalists throughout the country are regularly threatened by local politicians and businesspeople, and often attacked. Even given this history, since Rodrigo Duterte’s election as president in 2016, the situation for the press has worsened. Under Duterte, the Philippine government has worked to suffocate the free press more than under any Philippine president since dictator Ferdinand Marcos. For years Duterte has been targeting Rappler, which has aggressively reported on the massive number of extrajudicial killings and other abuses in Duterte’s drug “war.” And for years he has singled out journalists for verbal abuse, and suggested that journalists could be assassinated.  But overall, this effort against the press seems to have been ramped up in recent months, as the coronavirus pandemic has allowed Duterte—like many other illiberal leaders—to amass greater powers and crack down on all sorts of opposition. The legislature, controlled by Duterte allies, has passed an anti-terror law so broad it could be used to potentially detain a vast array of people without charges, including journalists. Last month, the Duterte administration effectively shut down ABS-CBN, one of the most important broadcast networks in the country, and one that also had reported independently about the president. Now, a guilty verdict against Maria Ressa, probably the most famous journalist in the Philippines and someone with a high-profile international legal team and extensive networks of allies around the world, must surely suggest to lower-profile journalists, and anyone in civil society in the Philippines, that no one in the country is safe. Ressa’s case also illustrates the rapidly deteriorating climate for press freedom across Southeast Asia, where governments are backsliding from democracy, and cracking down on reporters in numerous ways—trends that have increased since the outbreak of COVID-19. In Myanmar, the National League for Democracy-led government has aggressively tried to curtail independent journalism, while autocratic governments like Vietnam have aggressively pursued writers and bloggers, and Cambodia’s government has destroyed most of the country’s independent press. Overall, in the past two years, Reporters Without Borders has reported declines in press freedom in many Asian states, including the Philippines, Myanmar, and Singapore. Since the COVID-19 outbreak, as The Economist reports, Indonesia and Malaysia, two of the freer countries in Southeast Asia, have been arresting people for supposedly spreading false stories about COVID-19, and the Malaysian government is investigating a reporter for the South China Morning Post for reporting on COVID-19.    Now, an emboldened Duterte, empowered by the COVID-19 emergency, is likely to take further steps to crush press freedom in the Philippines.

Southeast Asia has never been an easy environment for reporters. The region contains two of the most repressive states in the world, Laos and Vietnam, which are ranked by Freedom House as “not free” in terms of freedom of the press. Less repressive regional states, like the Philippines and Thailand, still are difficult, often highly dangerous places to work in journalism. The Philippines has one of the highest numbers of journalists killed of any country in the world, and the International Federation of Journalists actually ranks the country worse, in terms of impunity for attacks on the media, than states like Cambodia whose overall media climate is more constrained. At least thirteen journalists have been killed in attacks related to their work since Rodrigo Duterte became president in 2016, but even before Duterte, killings of journalists were common in the country. Most infamously, in 2009 the Philippines witnessed what is considered the deadliest single attack on journalists in history, when thirty-two reporters and other media workers were killed in a massacre in the southern Philippines, along with twenty-five other people. Yet even by the region’s already-low standards, press freedom has taken a hit in Southeast Asia over the past two years. The decline in press freedom is one sign of the region’s overall political backsliding, with Malaysia and Timor-Leste being notable exceptions. Beyond the broader political backsliding, countries in the region have taken advantage of international disinterest in press freedom, and growing global concerns about disinformation, to use laws about online speech against journalists, or to pass new laws that could make it harder to report. The region’s worst offenders, like Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam, have remained just as closed, if not more so, for journalists than they were in the middle of the decade. But the freer states have cracked down on reporters as well. It appears that in his second term in office Indonesian President Joko Widodo will be no more committed to rights and freedoms than he was in his first term. Last week, for instance, the Indonesian government released an American journalist, Philip Jacobson, from prison on a visa violation and reportedly planned to deport him—though he remains under city arrest in Central Kalimantan as of this time. Jacobson works for a groundbreaking environmental reporting site, Mongabay, that often reported on thorny issues in Indonesia like graft, the Jokowi administration’s environmental record, and the powerful palm oil lobby. Jacobson had been arrested because the government claimed he was doing reporting while traveling on a business visa, but he had been in Indonesia to attend a conference, and the arrest was condemned by international press freedom organizations. His arrest was part of a broader trend in the country; press freedom has declined under Jokowi. Press have largely been banned from West Papua, journalists regularly face intimidation from the security forces, and the stepped-up enforcement of blasphemy laws chills reporting as well. In Myanmar, the Philippines, and Thailand press freedom also is getting worse. Both the Myanmar military and the civilian government led by Aung San Suu Kyi have tried to crack down on journalists, often by accusing them of defamation under a section of the draconian Telecommunications Act. Myanmar’s score in Reporters without Borders’ annual press freedom index has dropped in the past three years, in part also because of the jailing of two Reuters reporters. In the Philippines, while reporting was dangerous before the Duterte administration, Duterte’s administration has singled out journalists as enemies of the state and specifically targeted some of the most prominent journalists in the country, like the outlet Rappler and its head, Maria Ressa, which published multiple exposes of the Duterte administration’s war on drugs. And in Thailand, journalists from neighboring states have been abducted, while the government has suspended critical outlets like Voice TV, intimidated journalists, and used every tool possible to shut down independent reporters.

In the immediate aftermath of the State Security Service’s invasion of an Abuja court room and its re-arrest of Nigerian journalist Omoyele Sowore, the Lagos daily newspaper the Punch announced that it will prefix President Muhammadu Buhari’s name with his military rank, Major General, and will refer to his administration as a “regime,” until “they purge themselves of their insufferable contempt for the rule of law.” In its announcement, Punch draws parallels between Buhari’s government and his “ham-fisted military junta in 1984/85,” when he was military chief of state. For Punch the “regime’s actions and assaults on the courts, disobedience of court orders and arbitrary detention of citizens reflect the true character of the martial culture.” The Punch announcement also attacks the military and the police because they “fail to understand that peaceful agitation and the right to associate are fundamental rights.” In addition to Sowore, Punch refers specifically to the detention of the leader of the Islamic Movement of Nigeria, Ibrahim el-Zakzaky, and his wife, and of former National Security Advisor Sambo Dasuki, all in violation of various court orders. It also refers to various governors that have sought to curtail media freedom and the right to demonstrate. Punch claims to be the largest circulation daily in Nigeria. In addition to the daily, it publishes Saturday Punch, Sunday Punch, Punch Sports Extra, and digital platforms, of which the best known is Punchng.com. During the period of military rule, Punch was known for its democratic and human rights activism. The military closed it three times and imprisoned its editor and deputy editor. It remains to be seen how the Buhari government will respond. The newspaper is based in Lagos, and it and its readership has long been critical of northern Nigerian governance. Its criticism of Buhari is not surprising, but it is worth noting that Zakzaky and Dasuki are both northern Muslims. What is different this time is the parallelism between military rule and Buhari’s civilian administration. Buhari’s supporters are likely to find the Punch stance infuriating. Nigeria’s foreign friends will be hoping that the government takes no move to limit Punch’s freedom of expression. The SSS assault on a court room and the re-arrest of Sowore has already damaged the country’s international reputation. 

On December 6, the Department of State Security (DSS) stormed into an Abuja courtroom and illegally detained journalist Omoyele Sowore. The episode is deeply disappointing to American friends of Nigeria who are invested in that country’s democratic trajectory. The DSS flagrantly violated the rule of law and the sanctity of a courtroom by violently manhandling Sowore and causing the judge to flee her own chambers. The episode unfurled in full view of national and international media, dragging Nigeria’s international reputation through the mud. Sowore is a Nigerian citizen, but his wife and children are American citizens. He lives in New Jersey, where he publishes the well-regarded online newspaper “Sahara Reporters.” New Jersey’s two senators have issued blistering statements on his arrest. Senator Bob Menendez characterized Sowore’s seizure as a “blatant miscarriage of Justice…symptomatic of closing political and media space in Nigeria.” He promised to work with the American ambassador in Nigeria to secure Sowore’s release. Sen. Corey Booker, a candidate for the Democratic presidential nomination, called on Nigeria to “cease its attacks on freedom of expression.” The U.S. State Department tweeted “respect for the rule of law, judicial independence, political and media freedom, and due process are key tenets of #democracy.” Others denouncing the episode have included Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka and Amnesty International.  On Monday in Nigeria, a coalition of civil society organizations issued an ultimatum, promising mass protests if their demands are not met in fourteen days. Among other things, they are asking the government release detained journalists, obey court orders, and stop restricting free speech. The Punch, a daily Nigerian newspaper, published a scathing article detailing the Buhari administrations past abuses against other journalists and public figures. The newspaper promised that, henceforth, in all of its publications, it will refer to Buhari by his military rank, major general, and to his administration as a regime.  Sowore has long been a democratic activist and a thorn in the side of Nigerian governments, and Sahara Reporters regularly reports on the corruption of Nigerian political figures. In 2019, Sowore ran unsuccessfully for the presidency. In the aftermath of those flawed elections, he organized a protest dubbed “Revolution Now,” and called for “Days of Rage.” This seems to be the nominal basis for his arrest, with the government in response accusing him of treason and seeking to overthrow the government, among other fanciful charges.  The Nigerian government’s response thus far has been lame: Garba Shehu, media spokesman for President Muhammadu Buhari, excused DSS by saying that Sowore is a “person of interest” and DSS accordingly acted properly. In fact, this latest episode is the culmination of months of extra-legal government steps against Sowore. The DSS has refused to release him on bail twice, contrary to court orders. Further, there have been numerous attacks on journalists, and there is a bill in the National Assembly that would make “hate speech” a capital offense. In January, for example, security services stormed multiple offices of an influential newspaper after it had reported on military setbacks in the fight against Boko Haram. President Buhari moved quickly to end the occupation, suggesting he had lost control. It is unclear whether Sowore is being held for his political activity, his journalism, or both. In any event, the episode is a public relations disaster for the Buhari administration. Either the administration is, indeed, moving to restrict freedom of the press in Nigeria or the DSS is operating outside the president’s authority. Either is bad for Nigeria. 

Last week, when U.S. Ambassador to Zambia Daniel Foote expressed his dismay about a Zambian court ruling sentencing two men to fifteen years in prison for the crime of conducting a same-sex relationship, Zambian President Edgar Lungu was quick to take offense. He and his administration rebuked Foote, claiming that the American diplomat’s remarks were disrespectful and constituted inappropriate interference in internal affairs. In response, Ambassador Foote released a remarkable statement, that goes well beyond defending the rights of the LGBTQ community in Zambia, also noting the government’s lack of transparency regarding state corruption and the pall cast broadly over freedom of expression throughout the country. The dust-up is revealing. Lungu welcomes the chance to cast himself as a defender of Zambian values and of Christianity itself, in part because this narrative distracts from desperate efforts by Zambian civil society to protect what is left of civil and political rights in the country. For years, Lungu and his inner circle have been shrinking political space, harassing political opponents, and silencing the independent press. Now they are pressing for passage of Bill 10, a package of constitutional changes that would dramatically strengthen the power of the presidency. In the meantime, Zambia’s economic growth is anemic, government debt has soared to staggering levels, and the country is struggling to cope with drought and draconian power cuts. It’s easier to rally support for a firm hand at the top by vilifying minorities and appealing to prejudice than it is to run on the record or try to convince citizens that the country is on the right track. It’s also interesting to note that Ambassador Foote’s statement suggests that the United States’ generous record of providing foreign assistance to Zambia gives it special standing to raise concerns about Zambia’s direction. It is undoubtedly true that healthy, productive development partnerships require honesty and shared commitment, and that major assistance donors may have more leverage to press their case than others. But it is important to remember that that there is no required price of admission to defend human rights, to shed light on corruption, or to defend democracy. Governments, civil society organizations, and individuals speak out against injustice at home and abroad because they believe it is the right thing to do. Often voices in the United States and elsewhere complain about the reluctance of African leaders to condemn or even acknowledge state-sponsored abuses in their neighbors. The United States should be careful not to suggest that it’s the act of providing development assistance that gives one license to do the right thing.

Jeffrey Smith is the founding director of Vanguard Africa, a nonprofit organization that partners with African leaders to advocate for free and fair elections and ethical leadership. On November 7, a Magistrates Court in Tanzania postponed for the seventh time the case of journalist Erick Kabendera, who has voiced criticism of the country’s president, John Pombe Magufuli. After initially being violently abducted from his home and later investigated over his citizenship status, Mr. Kabendera is now facing a host of economic charges, including “assisting an organized crime racket” and money laundering.  The multiple court postponements are the ostensible result of still “incomplete investigations” on the part of the government, as no evidence has yet been produced by prosecuting authorities. Independent lawyers, human rights groups, and press freedom organizations have rightly labeled this for what it truly is: a politically motivated show trial meant only to instill fear in would-be critics and dissidents in Tanzania. During the four-year tenure of President Magufuli, the country has moved toward full-on authoritarianism.  Since taking power following a deeply flawed election in 2015, President Magufuli and his regime have ruthlessly clamped down on the country’s media fraternity, with harassment, intimidation, arrests, and even disappearances becoming commonplace. Perhaps the most troubling example is that of investigative journalist Azory Gwanda, who this month will have been missing for two years. Draconian cybercrime laws and the effective silencing of critical newspapers and independent bloggers have led to a further deterioration of the country’s media landscape ahead of next year’s scheduled elections, according to reports by Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, respectively.  But President Magufuli’s disregard for the basic tenets of democracy reaches well beyond the media sphere. By means of legislation, and often through extra-legal means, the regime has sought to muzzle independent voices, particularly those of the political opposition, but also members of civil society, the business community, and organized religion.  Almost invariably, critics of the Magufuli regime have been charged with non-bailable economic offenses, such as money laundering, tax evasion, or corruption. In many of these cases, assets and bank accounts have been seized or emptied without a court order. In an alarming number of instances, the government has failed to present evidence in court, resorting instead to perpetual adjournment on grounds of “incomplete investigations,” such as in the case of Mr. Kabendera. This strategy of “persecution by prosecution” is indeed a hallmark of modern dictatorships; Zimbabwe is a prime example. It often fails to garner the global attention and condemnation that baton-wielding security forces otherwise would.   The cumulative effect of Magufuli’s war on democratic freedoms has hurt Tanzania’s economy. Hundreds of vital businesses have closed down or scaled back their operations. By all independent accounts, economic growth has declined, unemployment is higher and economic hardships have worsened.  The reality of Magafuli’s authoritarian turn should be acknowledged and properly addressed. Tanzania’s main development partners, including the United States, should stand up and speak out, putting the government on notice that further repression is unacceptable. This is an especially crucial juncture for Tanzania, as the country is once again barreling toward an election. In addition, Magufuli seems to be exploring the option of staying in power beyond his constitutional mandate. Less than a year from today, Tanzanians will queue to vote in a general election. If needed reforms remain ignored, and if patriotic, independent voices like Erick Kabendera remain captive, the hopes of anything resembling a free and fair election will remain an illusion. This outcome would have wide-ranging ramifications, not only for the future of Tanzania, but also for the region—one that is desperately in need of a democratic champion. 

Nigerian media is reporting that on November 12, the Nigerian police fired live bullets to disperse those protesting the continued imprisonment of Nigerian journalist Omeyele Sowore. The media describes the protestors as conducting a “sit-in” at the offices of the Department of State Services (DSS), though it is not clear whether the protestors were inside or outside the compound. There are no reports that the demonstrators were violent or that protestors were killed. But this is yet another troubling incident involving the security services, peaceful protestors, and the rule of law. This summer, clashes in Abuja between security services and Shias, an Islamic religious minority, led to an estimated four deaths. They were protesting the imprisonment, since 2015, of their ostensible leader, Sheikh Ibrahim el-Zakzaky. Representatives of the Islamic Movement of Nigeria (IMN), which is a Shia group, alleged that they were attacked by the police after protesting peacefully. Previously, in October 2018, dozens of IMN members protesting Zakzaky’s imprisonment were killed following clashes with security services in Abuja. Zakazaky’s imprisonment is based on a 2015 clash of his supporters and a military convoy, which led to the deaths of an estimated three hundred Shias. Like Sowore, Zakzaky’s imprisonment rests on dubious legal grounds (he, too, has been ordered released by the courts) and is enmeshed in the extra-judicial activities of the security services. The apparent readiness of the security services to use violence against peaceful protestors reflects poor police training and the use of the military in lieu of the police. Numbering only about 360,000 in a country with more than 200 million people, the police are underpaid, stretched thin, and often forced to fend for themselves. Morale is likely to be poor. Sowore was the presidential candidate for the Africa Action Congress in the 2019 elections. He was ostensibly arrested over his leadership of the #RevolutionNow political protest, though he is also the founder and publisher of Sahara Reporters, a well-regarded, New York-based news outlet that has reported on Nigerian government corruption. The DSS claims his protests are treasonous, but such charges appear wildly overblown. (For perspective, the government has declared the IMN terrorists.) Twice the courts have ordered his release on bail, and twice DSS has retained custody of him. This episode appears to violate freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and the law. Together, they are antithetical to President Muhammadu Buhari’s assertion that his administration believes in freedom, tolerance, and the rule of law.  Since the colonial period, there have been episodes in which the security services have operated without reference to the law or to civilian control. Notably, there was the extra-judicial murder of Muhammed Yusuf, leader of Boko Haram, while he was in police custody in 2009. That murder played a central role in Boko Haram’s ongoing war with the Nigerian state. Security service abuses are often cited as assisting Boko Haram recruitment. Similarly, there have been repeated episodes of security service violence against Shia protestors. The government has already taken some important first steps toward reform of the judicial system, but reigning in, training, and funding the security services should be a top priority. 

Ademola Bello is a Nigerian journalist and playwright. He received his master’s from the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. On September 24, President Muhammadu Buhari of Nigeria delivered a speech at the United Nations General Assembly in New York. In it, he assured the world that his government believes in freedom, tolerance and the rule of law. He said, “The rule of law remains the permanent, the unchanging foundation of the world order.”  But on the same day that President Buhari spoke, his government ignored a court ruling ordering the release on bail of Mr. Omoyele Sowore, the founder of Sahara Reporters, a New York-based online news website that has reportedly extensively on government corruption in Nigeria. In fact, several Nigerian journalists and activists are unlawfully held in detention by the Nigerian government for reporting on widespread corruption and human rights violations.  Justice Taiwo Taiwo, who initially ruled that Nigeria’s Department of State Services (DSS) could detain Mr. Sowore for forty-five days, granted him bail on the condition that he surrender his passport. Mr. Sowore did so on September 25, but DSS did not release him, arguing that, among other things, he was not entitled to bail.  On October 4, a second judge, Ijeoma Ojukwu, presented new bail conditions that were much more stringent, including a demand to find two private landowners in Abuja who controlled land worth roughly $500,000 and who would stand for him as guarantors to meet his bail conditions. The judge also banned him from speaking with the press, not to participate in any rally, and not to leave Nigeria’s capital, Abuja. He has not yet met these new conditions.  Sowore was detained on August 3 by the DSS. He had called for a peaceful protest, tagged “Revolution Now,” to demand, among other things, that the Nigerian government end wholesale corruption, fight poverty, and provide universal education. He was charged with treasonable felony and insulting and harassing the Nigerian president based on comments made in a press interview. Usually based in New York, his trip to Nigeria was his first since revealing Nigeria’s Central Bank lost 500 billion naira (about $1.4 billion) in a failed private investment scheme. Sahara Reporters obtained and published audio recordings made by a whistleblower at the Central Bank of Nigeria. The recordings included Godwin Emefiele, the bank's governor, and other officials discussing how to cover up the loss.   The detention of Sowore comes as press freedoms and free speech continue to be curtailed by President Buhari. The nonprofit Committee to Protect Journalists has documented widespread harassment of journalists in the country, including unlawful detention and assaults.  Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights guarantees "freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” It is time for the UN and UNESCO to speak up about the Nigerian government’s unlawful imprisonment of journalists and activists like Omoyele Sowore. 

Welcome to “Women Around the World: This Week,” a series that highlights noteworthy news related to women and U.S. foreign policy. This week’s post, covering October 25 to November 1, was compiled by Yuxin Lei and Rebecca Turkington.

China has championed the idea of 'cyber sovereignty'. While the U.S. and its allies have long opposed this concept, it has become more attractive to some countries as a way of managing cyber threats and mass demonstrations. These developments urge us to question: how much cyber sovereignty is too much cyber sovereignty?

The facts are not in dispute. On October 6, Houston Rockets General Manager Daryl Morey tweeted: “Fight for Freedom: Stand with Hong Kong,” igniting a political firestorm in Beijing. Other Rockets heavyweights soon weighed in. The owner of the team, Tilman Fertitta, quickly distanced himself from Morey’s tweet, and one of the team’s stars, James Harden asked forgiveness from China, stating, “We apologize. We love China.” Other opinions also crowded onto the court. Notably, Brooklyn Nets owner Joe Tsai published an open letter later that same night cautioning that “…there are certain topics that are third-rail issues in certain countries, societies and communities. Supporting a separatist movement in a Chinese territory is one of those third-rail issues, not only for the Chinese government, but also for all citizens in China.” Golden State Warriors coach Steve Kerr said he didn’t know enough to comment on the “bizarre international story.” The Chinese government, for its part, responded immediately by pulling all Chinese sponsorship of the Rockets (an NBA favorite in China and the home for nine years of China’s basketball commissioner Yao Ming). In addition, state-run China Central Television (CCTV) revoked plans to broadcast two highly anticipated exhibition games in Shanghai and Shenzhen between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Brooklyn Nets; and several events and a press conference around the Shanghai game were cancelled, including one to raise money for the Special Olympics. Despite this dispiriting turn of events, there is a bright spot. After a bit of fumbling, NBA Commissioner Adam Silver delivered an important set of remarks clarifying the association’s position and sending an important signal to all the parties involved: “Freedom of expression can engender very difficult conversations. But for those who question our motivation, this is about far more than growing our business. Values of equality, respect, and freedom of expression have long defined the NBA—and will continue to do so. As an American-based basketball league operating globally, among our greatest contributions are these values of the game… In fact, one of the enduring strengths of the NBA is our diversity—of views, backgrounds, ethnicities, genders and religions...with that diversity comes the belief that whatever our differences, we respect and value each other…”   Silver’s words matter at several levels. First, they make clear that all views, from Morey’s to Harden’s to Tsai’s (and including Kerr’s right not to comment) are welcome and should be expressed and understood with tolerance and civility. By championing the right to, and value of, such a diversity in viewpoints, Silver has elevated the NBA and delivered a much-needed reminder to all Americans about how to manage controversy in political discourse. Second, knowingly or not, Silver became one of the first heads of a major U.S. corporation to take on China in the latter’s efforts to use its market power to coerce international actors to comply with its political positions. The Philippines, South Korea, Japan, and Sweden have all faced politically motivated Chinese trade embargoes; virtually all multinationals are now under pressure to change the way they acknowledge Taiwan on their materials, websites, and even packaging to ensure that the island nation is not accorded status as an independent entity. And China has banned performers, including Richard Gere, Katy Perry, and Oasis, among others for their support of greater freedoms in Taiwan and Tibet. While a number of countries and individuals have refused to back down in the face of Beijing’s threats, many companies have elected to comply with Beijing’s demands in order to preserve access to the Chinese market. Yet the price of compliance is likely to get much higher. In its criticism of Morey’s tweet, China’s state-run broadcasting company CCTV stated, “We believe that any remarks that challenge national sovereignty and social stability are not within the scope of freedom of speech.” As I wrote recently, Beijing is increasingly seeking to force multinationals to align their political values and priorities with China’s. While Beijing’s traditional priority in this regard has been sovereignty issues, it is easy to imagine political obeisance required on other potentially sensitive topics, such as the Belt and Road initiative, human rights and religious practices, labor and employment, or Internet governance. Any issue can become one that seemingly threatens social stability. Finally, as the Trump administration seeks to navigate a new relationship with Beijing, the spirit of Silver’s remarks should serve as a reminder of the value of rooting an argument in American principles and law. The United States began the trade war, for example, from a similarly principled position (excluding the President’s focus on the bilateral trade deficit). It concentrated on holding China accountable for skirting or breaking international trade rules: stealing intellectual property, engaging in cyber economic espionage, coercing technology transfer, and putting in place non-market barriers to entry. Yet as the United States moves well beyond the parameters of righting trade and investment wrongs, it is losing both bargaining power with China and credibility globally. Commissioner Silver’s words merit attention not only because they are smart and right but also because they remind us more broadly of how Washington needs to conduct its relationships at home and abroad—with tolerance and respect and fundamentally rooted in American principles and values. It is hard to arrive at a clearer statement of not only what Silver wants the NBA to be but also what we all hope the United States can be. And perhaps there is one additional bright spot to be found. The Lakers-Nets game in Shanghai went on as planned. The stadium was full of Chinese fans who roared in anticipation every time LeBron James rolled down the court toward the hoop. Some things are truly universal.