‘I confused things with their name. That is belief’

— John Paul Sartre

The idea of the unknown has drawn scientists and artists to it with similar gravity, and since the dawn of humanity, untold millions have been spent to satiate this urge to know. As a species we rush to name any new organism, land, event or idea in a bid to stake claim to it or as a means to understand it. The very act of being able to name something allows us a level of control over it, since this gives us the illusion of having defined the thing that we have named. In the succinct words of Adam Alter; “as soon as you label a concept, you change how people perceive it.” Hence when we are unable to exert this control, and unable to name what exists in the environment around us; a fear is born.

Understanding this fear allows us to see why anonymity has the negative reputation that it does, especially in the digital age as it finds close synonymy with hacking and dark web infamy. However, throughout history, anonymity has helped people resist and rebel, and pursue ideas and art that have been invaluable to culture. Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre would not have existed sans anonymity. The Bronte sisters used male aliases to evade sexist stereotyping and be taken seriously in a male-dominated profession. Banksy would not be able to create the political and socially conscious art associated with that name. Elena Ferrante would perhaps not have been able to write her truths as fiercely.

Being able to speak one’s truth openly has always been a point of privilege — reserved for those whose truths are made normative or those who can buy their acceptance into mainstream society. For the rest, their experiences or self-expression are allowed only through state-sanctioned moulds. Anonymity then becomes sacrosanct, as a means to not only express an identity of one’s own choosing but also collectivism for communities and individuals marginalised by society.

In the digital era, we have competing ideologies that either vilify or espouse the value of anonymity. Facebook, a social media giant, relies on user data to be able to advertise products and services to those who would be most likely to buy them. However, this data mining has gone beyond the realm of advertisement to impacting electoral outcomes and shaping harmful societal narratives that goes against the freedom to privacy and the right to choose. The platform has come under fire numerous times over privacy concerns; most recently perhaps over the Whatsapp agreement that allows the Facebook-owned messaging app to gather user chats; to be able to market to them more efficiently.

Ramsha Jahangir, a Pakistani journalist, researcher and digital rights advocate, points out that in a society like ours the reasons choosing anonymity are varied and versatile. For instance, many right-leaning political and social commentators feel safe enough to not hide their identities whereas those on the left tend to feel more of a need to be anonymous to evade state persecution and harassment.

“I used to be quite open on Twitter about everything concerning my personal life. Looking back, that wasn’t really the best decision I’ve ever made. I’m sixteen years old…,” says an anonymous Twitter user. “Around the start of lockdown last year, my brother somehow found out… and threatened to out me to my conservative religious family. I naturally assumed that it was due to my carelessness online. I should’ve been more subtle; being comfortable with myself had resulted in me being too irresponsible with a part of myself I never should’ve shared online to begin with, or not as freely as I had… In the months following that incident, I carefully got rid of every bit of my real identity off the internet and settled for an alias, with only my closest friends on the internet knowing about my real self.”

Anonymity is often associated with nefarious ideas and practices and there is a notion amongst many that if “one has done nothing wrong, they have nothing to hide.” For the powers that be - state, religion and media - those who choose anonymity for themselves online or in their work are doing so because they hold ill will or malintent for these systems. Since anonymity is hailed as a tool for resistance as well as a means to troll, the above is a sweeping statement that does not apply to innumerable demographics that use the internet, and the geo-political motivations that steer their decision to be anonymous. As the previous testimony demonstrates, for certain individuals and communities anonymity is less a matter of choice and more a matter of survival once they freely express themselves.

Usama Khilji, director of Bolo Bhi, states that “it gets tricky when anonymous accounts indulge in harassment, incitement to violence, and threatening vulnerable people online”.

There are a myriad of reasons as to why someone would be an anonymous internet user. These concern the basic needs for human expression and navigating the matrixes of patriarchy, capitalism and white supremacy. Long-term anonymous account @mustyourmustard on Twitter admits that not disclosing their real identity on social media has allowed them to criticise state and social institutions without repercussions and be candid about their personal life experiences without risking their safety in terms of family fallouts and harassment. In an ideal world, being able to openly criticise the state and those it endorses would not be a privilege but a right. Since this right is not protected by the state currently, anonymity on the internet becomes absolutely crucial in holding those in power accountable. This is why the right to anonymity must be protected by all those who value human rights.

The summer of 2020 saw the rupture of a heinous silence that still looms large over the Pakistani education system. On the June 26 and 27, Nayab Gohar Jan, Jibran Nasir and this writer were among the several social media accounts that were tagged on Instagram and Twitter by anonymous accounts to an anonymous profile that had posted testimonies by the students of Lahore Grammar School (LGS). These testimonies ranged from female students in that high school - past and present - accusing a teacher of sexually harassing them. In addition to this, the women on the school faculty were accused of abetting this sexual harassment by slut-shaming and victim-blaming the survivors when they stepped up to complain of Shiekh’s abuse of power. The anonymous Instagram page activists being tagged under ‘khilaafezulm’ (since deleted) detailed the experiences of the survivors and allowed others to send their testimonies in and then posted those anonymously on their behalf.

These testimonies were reaching a viral status on Pakistani social media and the positive response from public officials and online citizens enabled others from varying social classes and regions to also come forward with their testimonies. A domino effect transpired and soon other private school students were naming abusers in their midst. The momentum initiated by the anonymous profile on Instagram resulted in two predators being fired from their jobs and the schools where they were hired formed inquiry committees to determine how this behaviour had gone on unchecked for the years that it did and who enabled it. The LGS released a statement announcing the termination of the accused as well as suspension from service and further investigation of the faculty members who had tried to silence the survivors. There are groups on social media now, dedicated to providing platforms for students and faculty to complain about institutional wrongs and violations of safety and human rights, both anonymously and otherwise.

The same wave of anonymous testimonies allowed for the other side of anonymity to be exposed. It was seen and reported that there were also groups dedicated to harassing, blackmailing and generally threatening the safety of girls and women on social media where men posted pictures of women without their consent and abused them. This sort of abuse could be curtailed if social media platforms used a more conscientious reviewing system of posts reported to them. Facebook has a long history of ignoring posts that glorify sexism, racism and general threats to community or individual safety and choosing instead to ban accounts for trivial reasons or dissent.

In order to find a balance between allowing dissent and free expression to thrive, and curbing the abuse that can often stem from anonymity online, Usama Khilji, director of Bolo Bhi, states that “it gets tricky when anonymous accounts indulge in harassment, incitement to violence, and threatening vulnerable people online. This is where platform reporting mechanisms and enforcement of community standards comes in, which should be strengthened and implemented not only for English language users but for local languages as well. The state should not have a say in how citizens choose to express themselves, unless it is an activity that threatens citizen safety in which case law enforcement cooperation with social media companies is routine.”

Acceptable anonymity is difficult to define, and even harder to legislate on, since a lack of a concrete or traceable identity can both protect and punish. It can allow human expression to thrive as well as work to suppress it. Unless the state and social stakeholders come together to create an environment that guarantees the safety of marginalised demographics that rely on anonymity to avail the same rights as the mainstream population, anonymity cannot be prosecuted under blanket bans criminalising it.

The author is a Karachi-based writer, with a focus on human rights. She tweets on culture, media and socio-political events @curlistani