he room buzzed with subtle tension as a group of journalists, including members of the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists; the Parliamentary Reporters’ Association; and my organisation huddled in a cubicle in the parliament, awaiting the arrival of the federal minister leading the charge on the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Bill (now, Act) in the summer of 2016. “This law is aimed at protecting women and children online. Child pornography is a serious concern, for instance,” the minister said, dismissing our repeated warnings about the potential for political misuse of the law and the unfair targeting of journalists.

Less than a year later, in October 2017, our concerns were echoed by PML-N supremo, Nawaz Sharif, in a tweet posted by the party’s official account, expressing alarm over the restrictions on online political expression and the arrest of PML-N political workers.

It was quite clear. At the time, the PML-N seemed intent on legislating around internet freedoms to curb the rising influence of the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf on social media, which had demonstrated street power during the 2014 sit-in in front of the parliament. Needless to say, back then, PTI’s head honcho Imran Khan came out in clear opposition of the PECB 2016 (now, Act). In a statement in 2017, he said, “the government is abusing the cybercrime law to politically victimise PTI’s social media activists by threatening and arresting them. This is unacceptable in a democracy.”

Little did one know a role reversal was about to take place.

Before we delve further into the story, let’s pause to reflect on the key takeaways. First, both leading parties, at different times, voiced concerns about the “unfair use of the law,” which was repeatedly justified as being designed to “protect women and children.” And second, the use of protection-oriented terms in pushing for PECB 2016 (now, Act), such as “safeguarding,” “reputation,” and “online harm,” which seems to be a trend.

In 2020, the PTI government introduced the Citizens Protection (Against Online Harm) Rules, an extension of the same PECA which they had opposed in 2016, to “protect national integrity” and combat misinformation. These social media rules were widely criticised as overly broad and predatory, leading to their rejection by key stakeholders. The Asia Internet Coalition, representing major tech companies like Google, META and Amazon, expressed concerns to then-prime minister Imran Khan about the potential negative impact on Pakistan’s economic environment. The Committee to Protect Journalists, alongside over 100 civil society organisations, including the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, boycotted consultations, arguing that the government was using these discussions to falsely depict civil society approval. Notice the language once again. One simply cannot miss the appropriation of a protectionist approach to camouflage predatory policies.

The real concern is the terminology itself—what is referred to as the “whitelisting of VPNs” is, in effect, the blacklisting of all other VPNs.

In the subsequent two years, the PTI government introduced or enacted several policies aimed at curbing media and digital freedoms under the pretext of “protection from online harms, countering disinformation, and protecting reputations.” Among these were the controversial PECA Ordinance and the proposal for a Pakistan Media Regulatory Authority, which later morphed into the Pakistan Media Development Authority. These initiatives were met with widespread condemnation from the civil society and industry bodies, all of whom unequivocally rejected them as predatory and fundamentally opposed to the constitutional freedoms of expression and the press. Throughout this period, Imran Khan and the PTI staunchly defended these regulations, insisting they were “essential” for safeguarding “national security” while the opposing PML-N declared them harmful to fundamental rights. Once again, the use of protectionary language of the proposed policies were unanimously opposed by all stakeholder groups, including the broadcasters and publishers.

Let’s fast-forward to the present, where the tables have turned once more. The party that once led the charge to criminalise online speech now finds itself left to its own devices. Meanwhile, those who once championed media and digital freedoms are once again actively looking for ways to “regulate” digital media. But that’s not our focus today. The purpose of this context is to highlight how the language of protection is often used by whoever is in power as a veneer to disguise restrictive regulations and the erosion of liberties.

In recent times, the use of protective terminology has resurfaced in policies that, despite their benevolent presentation, may ultimately be more harmful than beneficial. Take, for example, the proposed establishment of a Digital Rights Protection Authority or the “whitelisting of VPNs.” These terms, which evoke a sense of security and safeguarding, often serve to obscure actions that are, in reality, more regressive than progressive.

Consider the recent remarks by a minister regarding the use of VPNs. The minister stated that those using VPNs to access “banned content” are effectively “bypassing state policies on restricted platforms.” Ironically, this comment overlooks the fact that many government bodies, including the Foreign Office and some high-ranking officials such as the prime minister and chief ministers, continue to use platforms like X (formerly Twitter) through VPNs. However, that’s not the primary issue here. The real concern is the terminology itself—what is referred to as the “whitelisting of VPNs” is, in effect, the blacklisting of all other VPNs. This is a clear example of how protective language is strategically employed to disguise actions that are restrictive and regressive. Same goes for the “firewall,” which, in effect, is a content filtering system.

The government is acting in a way that many governments around the world do. While we certainly have serious concerns about these recent developments, my primary frustration lies with the media. Too often, most of the media fails to see beyond the surface, reporting on these issues in a superficial and “statement-based” manner. It’s disheartening that, instead of providing in-depth analysis or questioning the motives behind these actions, the media frequently accepts official narratives without scrutiny, missing the opportunity to uncover the broader implications.

The writer is the director and founder of Media Matters for Democracy. He writes on media and digital freedoms, media sustainability and countering misinformation