Freedom of expression may once again come under threat

During the previous Awami League government, the Digital Security Act faced strong opposition from almost every quarter, both at home and abroad, and a movement centered on freedom of expression emerged. Various studies have documented instances of violations of citizens’ rights through the use of this law.

Between 2018 and 2023, more than 4,500 people were charged under the law, a significant proportion of them politicians and journalists. From school students, illiterate farmers, and university students to cartoonists, writers, and political activists, many people fell victim to this repressive law.

Most of the cases filed under the law were brought by members of the ruling party and people associated with the state. In effect, it was one of the Awami League government’s major tools for curbing freedom of expression.

Amid widespread criticism at home and abroad, the government introduced the Cyber Security Act in 2023. Although this amounted largely to changing the law’s outward form, its core repressive structure remained unchanged. Following the mass uprising of 2024, some positive changes were introduced through the Cyber Security Ordinance of 2025 (later enacted as law), but ambiguities in its definitions remained.

However, the latest draft amendment to the Cyber Security Act not only threatens to undo the progress made in the area of freedom of expression; it also risks becoming more dangerous than the previously controversial Digital Security Act. Let us examine several specific provisions of the proposed draft that could pose a serious threat to freedom of expression.

First, consider Section 8(2), concerning the “power to remove or block certain data and information.” It states that if any information or data published through digital media undermines the country’s territorial integrity, security, or defense; threatens public order; incites violence; or provides instructions for disorder or criminal activity, necessary measures may be taken against it.

There has already been extensive discussion about the ambiguity in the definitions of these provisions. However, a fundamental difference between the Digital Security Act and the current law on the one hand, and the proposed draft on the other, is that the new draft adds the word “apprehension” to each of these provisions.

In other words, action can be taken not only when public order is actually undermined, but even when there is an “apprehension that it may be undermined.” The addition of the word “apprehension” has expanded the authorities’ powers so broadly that law enforcement agencies or the relevant authorities could, at their discretion, label virtually any political or social activity as “threatening.”

In addition, the draft proposes adding another provision to Section 8(2): information may also be blocked or removed if the authorities consider it “defamatory to any person or organisation or derogatory to the state.” This could make it easy to prevent virtually any kind of report published in the media from being disseminated.

Even so, it remains unclear how the term “derogatory to the state” would be defined. In Bangladesh, where the government and the state are often closely conflated, there remains scope for any criticism of the government to be characterized as derogatory to the state.

Second, Section 25 of the Cyber Security Act dealt with “sexual harassment, blackmailing, or the publication of obscene content.” Its primary purpose was to prevent blackmail, sexual harassment, revenge porn, child sexual abuse material (CSAM), and sextortion.

The draft adds “defamatory information” to this sensitive and important provision and introduces the phrase “with the intent to defame or demean” into the section concerning sexual harassment.

The scope of the draft’s definitions of defamation and “demeaning” is almost limitless. As with the controversial Digital Security Act, the draft uses the colonial-era Penal Code of 1860 as the benchmark for defining defamation, while expanding its scope further. It includes information, data, or statements intended to damage a person’s “reputation, dignity, or character” that are “false, distorted, misleading, insulting, or harmful," even when such content is generated, edited, or altered by artificial intelligence (AI).

Similarly, “demeaning” is defined as “damaging a person’s dignity, honour, reputation, or social standing through any words, conduct, publication, indication, or activity that causes the person to appear to others as humiliated, insignificant, inferior, or dishonorable, or that harms their social standing or reputation.”

If the definitions of “defamation” and “demeaning” are analyzed side by side, it becomes clear that reporting on, or strongly criticising, corruption involving a politician, a government minister or ministry, or any state institution could very easily be treated as an offence under this provision.
Even memes, satire, or political cartoons on social media could potentially be brought within its scope and become grounds for legal action. This is because any political meme or cartoon may satirize the political position of one leader or another.

Those in power could easily claim that such content has damaged their “dignity, reputation, or social standing.” It is worth noting that the definition of “demeaning” adds “indication” alongside words, conduct, and publications.

Similarly, those in power could claim that a news report, article, discussion, or any piece of information has damaged their reputation or character. Moreover, in the definition of defamation, the vague categories of reputation, character, and dignity are not merely paired with “false” or “distorted” information; the word “misleading” has also been added. Here, the word “misleading” is itself, quite literally, misleading.

A particular piece of political or economic information can be analyzed from different perspectives. The government could, if it wished, label any unwelcome or uncomfortable interpretation as “misleading” and use this law to suppress it.

The third issue concerns rumors. Section 26 of the draft introduces “the dissemination of rumours and misinformation in cyberspace” as a criminal offense. This is a new addition, introduced on the pretext of the rise in rumors and misinformation on social media.

The draft provides two separate definitions or explanations for rumors and misinformation. A rumor is defined as “any unsupported or unverified information, news, or claim that causes, or has the potential to cause, confusion, panic, excitement, or social unrest among the public.”

Misinformation, on the other hand, is defined as “any false, distorted, or misleading information that is intentionally created, published, or disseminated with the purpose of misleading, deceiving, or causing harm to an individual, the public, an institution, or the state.”

First, under the categories of “unsupported,” “distorted,” or “misleading” in the definitions of rumors and misinformation, virtually any criticism of the government in cyberspace could potentially be included. Moreover, by referring to the act of “misleading” individuals, the public, institutions, or the state, the provision makes the entire matter even more vague and nebulous.

If this is considered alongside the earlier provision concerning “demeaning,” it becomes clear that it would be very easy to bring any kind of information that could make the government or a government institution uncomfortable under these two provisions.

Any investigative report published by a newspaper could also potentially be brought under these provisions. After all, who gets to define what is “misleading” or “distorted”? Under this framework, that authority would rest solely with those in power!

Second, this attempt to suppress rumors and misinformation solely through punitive or criminal law demonstrates that policymakers have failed to take into account the complexities of digital social media.

Suppose, for example, that someone deliberately publishes a “rumour or misinformation” (as defined by the law). Later, several hundred ordinary citizens, believing it in good faith to be true, share it. Would the law then treat the original disseminator and the citizens who shared it in good faith as equally culpable?

Again, if a piece of misinformation is shared by several thousand people, will law enforcement arrest all those thousands of people, or just one of them? If it is disseminated through an account belonging to a person or group based outside the country, or if a new page is opened immediately after another page is shut down, how can this be prevented through criminal law?

In an age of modern information technology, failing to take into account the multidimensional flow of information and instead broadly criminalizing such conduct simply means putting yet another tool of repression in the government’s hands to suppress dissenting views.

Preventing rumors and misinformation requires building more professional fact-checking organisations, ensuring the free flow of information, and expanding the space for freedom of expression. If the government instead attempts to control these things, the tendency to spread or believe rumors in society will only increase further.

Again, if a piece of misinformation is shared by several thousand people, will law enforcement arrest all those thousands of people, or just one of them? If it is disseminated through an account belonging to a person or group based outside the country, or if a new page is opened immediately after another page is shut down, how can this be prevented through criminal law?

In an age of modern information technology, failing to take into account the multidimensional flow of information and instead broadly criminalising such conduct simply means putting yet another tool of repression in the government’s hands to suppress dissenting views.

Preventing rumours and misinformation requires building more professional fact-checking organisations, ensuring the free flow of information, and expanding the space for freedom of expression. If the government instead attempts to control these things, the tendency to spread or believe rumours in society will only increase further.

In addition, the proposed amendments increase the length of prison sentences and introduce several new provisions that would significantly expand the state’s surveillance and control over citizens while reducing accountability.

Recently, political scientist Ali Riaz also said that, because the amendments would place responsibility for trials through mobile courts in the hands of the executive branch, there is a risk that the judicial process could tilt in favour of the ruling party. (Prothom Alo, 28 September 2026)

In summary, apart from removing the provision concerning the spirit of the Liberation War, the amendments contain no positive changes. On the contrary, overall they are set to become as dangerous as the now-repealed Digital Security Act. In matters of defamation, they not only invoke the colonial-era law as a reference but also further expand its scope.

Previously, various international organisations had called for the abolition of criminal defamation. International human rights organisations, including the United Nations, had also called for defamation to be excluded from the scope of criminal offences.

Yet the new amendments make the definitions of terms such as “defamation” and “demeaning” even more ambiguous, expanding their boundaries to an almost limitless extent. Defamation has not been confined to individuals; it has also been extended to institutions.

Although the purpose of the Cyber Security Act is to protect citizens in the digital sphere, the draft amendments suggest that the government appears inclined toward greater control over citizens’ activities and rights.
The draft amendments not only fail to take technological realities into account; their vague provisions also pave the way for virtually any anti-government opinion, satire, or even minimal criticism to be treated as a criminal offence.

There is already a precedent for arrests over criticism or derogatory remarks about the prime minister. We have not yet forgotten the memory of freedom of expression being curtailed through the use of the Digital Security Act. Against this backdrop, the draft amendments to the Cyber Security Act are multiplying our “apprehensions” many times over.

* Suhul Ahmad is a writer and researcher
*The opinions expressed here are of the author.
* This piece appeared in Prothom Alo online and has translated by Ayesha Kabir for Prothom Alo English Online.