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“Where are you Mohammed?” I muttered to myself while scrolling down my Facebook feed. Since the start of war in Gaza, as soon as I wake up in the morning, I check Facebook in search of reassuring signs that my Gazan friends are still alive. A week ago I noticed that for more than 24 hours there had been no new posts by Mohammed. I was extremely worried and immediately tried to click onto his own profile, only to find that his whole account had disappeared. I rang him and luckily found he was alive.
“Where are you Mohammed?” I asked, relieved.
“I need to become invisible,” he said and explained that he had to deactivate his account after receiving death threats. He was told that ‘traitors’ like him would be properly dealt with once hostilities were over. They made it clear, Mohammed told me, that they were not going to ask questions first and shoot later. They were just going to shoot. They were Hamas security forces.
A prominent poet among a new generation of gifted poets in Gaza, and an eloquent writer, Mohammed had for many years been a cautious critic of Hamas’ rule in Gaza. But with the unfolding horror of the Israeli retaliation for Hamas’ atrocious attack of 7 October, he could no longer restrain himself. His criticism of Hamas’s leadership and its recent disastrous war policies suddenly became uncompromising. He ridiculed those who praised Hamas’ Tawafan Al-Aqsa operation, Hamas’ name for its attack on Israel, pointing out that it was in general morally and politically damaging to Palestinian people and particularly destructive to Gaza citizens’ lives and properties.
In one of his posts Mohammed declared that Hamas did not represent him and his family, nor indeed people like him. He clearly stated that if his wife and two-year-old daughter, or any other members of his extended family, were killed under Israeli bombardments, he would hold Hamas as responsible as Israel.
Mohammed is a descendant of a refugee family. His grandparents escaped to Gaza during the war of 1948. He himself was born in a refugee camp. Since 2007, when the Palestinian Authority (PA) was ousted from power in Gaza, Mohammed has lived under Hamas’ rule. Like many people of his generation, especially creative, liberal-minded people, he has been calling for peaceful engagement with the Israelis, whether through nonviolent protests or peace negotiations, in the hope that life in Gaza could somehow become less insufferable. But to no avail.
Voices of dissent in Gaza have been getting louder since 2007, especially after Hamas’ various disastrous military engagements with Israel. But since 7 October, and given the scale of the ongoing catastrophe that has resulted from that day, many people in Gaza have completely lost patience. There can be no end to the tragic situation in Gaza, they have come to believe, without the total disarmament of Hamas and other militant groups.
Hamas has never tolerated critical views of its leadership and polices. A 2018 report from Human Rights Watch revealed that Hamas carried out scores of arbitrary arrests for peaceful criticism, typically targeting supporters of the PA following the Fatah-Hamas feud. When there have been protests, they’ve quickly been crushed.
But critics, such as Mohammed, are independent voices, not affiliated with the PA. They do not represent an alternative authority. Indeed sometimes they are as critical of the PA as they are of Hamas. To this end Hamas has largely turned a blind eye to them. Hamas has also wanted to appear in front of its “friends” in the West to show a degree of respect for freedom of speech. Now things have changed; with its entire fate on the line, they’ve accelerated efforts to stamp out any voices of dissent.
People in Gaza are praying for an immediate and lasting ceasefire, which they see as their only chance of surviving. But for Mohammed, and dissidents like him, leaving Gaza altogether might be the only way to survive both the danger of Israeli bombardment and Hamas’ prosecution. He is hoping to escape to Egypt as soon as possible and in whatever way possible.
“This is our second Nakba (catastrophe),” he told me, the first being the war of 1948 which turned his grandparents and their successors into refugees in Gaza. Were he to succeed in escaping from Gaza, he, his wife and his daughter would suffer the life of refugees all over again.
With people like Mohammed leaving, Gaza will be left with no one who can freely express their views apart from Hamas supporters whose extreme political views and visions are delusional. Some of these people believe that the ongoing war is bound to cause the total destruction of Israel. With people like Mohammed gone, there will be nobody in Gaza left to challenge their absurdly self-destructive views.
Yet had Mohammed been born in what after 1948 became the State of Israel, and thus became a Palestinian citizen of Israel himself, he would still have no other option but to stay silent, even in the absence of death threats. After all it’s not just anti-war voices in Gaza that are being gagged. While searching for posts by Gazan friends I noticed that Palestinian-Israeli friends were suspiciously quiet too. I had known them to be typically outspoken in their criticism of both the Israeli government and Palestinian leadership – in the West Bank and Gaza – so I was surprised to see no posts of theirs, nor any comments on posts related to the Hamas’ assault and subsequent Israeli reprisals. I wrote sarcastically, wondering out loud, whether Palestinian-Israelis were keeping silent out of fear of Hamas’ rockets. The next day I received a private message with one simple question: “Haven’t you heard what’s happened to Dalal Abu Amneh?”
Dalal Abu Amneh is a popular Palestinian singer, influencer and doctor from Nazareth. She had been questioned by the Israeli authorities, I soon learned, over an Instagram post consisting of only a single Quranic verse, the meaning of which was that there is no ultimate victor but God. For some reason the Israeli police suspected that the use of such verse was an expression of solidarity with Hamas, and so she spent two days in detention.
Then I received news that activists from Standing Together, one of the largest grassroots Israeli-Palestinian groups working for peace, had been arrested in Jerusalem for putting up posters with the message: “Jews and Arabs, we will get through this together.”
The Israeli public debate has also not been immune from the decline of rationality. Some far-right politicians and news commentators have even been arguing that destroying Gaza in the same way that cities like Dresden and Hiroshima were destroyed during World War II is the best possible way to put an end to the danger posed by Hamas.
Israel is considered the only democracy in the Middle East, yet its Palestinian citizens are frightened to protest against such calls for mass murder of the civilians of Gaza. Hoping to find out the source of such fear, a few days after the start of the war, I got in touch with Noha, a Palestinian friend from Haifa. Noha is a teacher and writer and she is usually chatty and blunt in expressing her opinions, but this time she seemed withdrawn and reticent.
“We can’t write anything about the current situation,” she replied curtly.
I asked whether Palestinians in Israel are frightened because they are exposed to a general sense of intimidation or whether there were actually state laws which prohibited them from freely expressing their views. Again her reply was brisk, “Every word is being monitored.”
“Who is monitoring every word?” I hoped to hear her explanation but she remained silent in a way that implied that our private conversation itself was being monitored. I nearly told her, jokingly, that she was just being paranoid; but after what had happened to Dalal Abu Amneh, a couple of days earlier, I couldn’t blame her even if she was merely being paranoid.
The Israeli government has vowed to continue its offensive until Hamas is eradicated. Those of us with first-hand knowledge of politics and history in Palestine-Israel know for sure that such an objective could not be achieved unless the whole of Gaza was totally destroyed. In other words, in order to achieve its goal, the Israeli government would have to follow the advice of those who have been calling to do to Gaza what was done to Dresden or Hiroshima.
In a later conversation with Mohammed he told me that many ordinary people in Gaza believe that Hamas is going to win in the end. “But how can that be when it’s obvious that Hamas is fighting for its life?” I protested. “Or is it the case that its mere survival would be considered a victory?”
“The people of Gaza have been living under siege for more than 16 years,” Mohammed said, adding that things have been getting despairingly worse. “Isolation and despair have made people seek refuge in political fantasies and delusions,” he explained.
Mohammed told me that when the news broke out, on the morning of 7 October, hundreds of Gazan civilians crossed the border into Israel literally following in the footsteps of Hamas’ attackers. The aim of some of these civilians was looting wealthy Israeli homes and properties. Others, however, believed that they were going home, returning, to the land from which their ancestors had fled during the war of 1948. They believed Israel was being conquered and that the Israeli population were leaving, and they, the civilians, wanted to make sure that they got in before anybody else so they could occupy the best vacant properties.
Political delusions and absurd views, such as the ones expressed by extremists on both sides, would be harmless if those who held them were not in power, nor armed. But that is not the case in Gaza and Israel. With the silencing of voices of reason such insane views could very easily win the attention of those in charge. The outcome would be a disaster on a scale not witnessed since World War II.
The events of the last week have been horrific. We won’t rehash them here — the videos, photos and details coming out of the Middle East are everywhere you look. For an organisation that campaigns for free speech, we have struggled to find words to respond to the mounting loss of life and the horrendous accounts that emerge every day. But at Index our job is not to report on all of this. Instead our job is to uphold free expression, and to alert the world to the instances where this has been curtailed. So that’s what we’ll do. Here are the free speech issues we are most concerned about:
Killed and missing journalists
Amid the deaths of civilians, journalists are losing their lives. While there’s nothing to suggest that the journalists are being specifically targeted, their lack of protection is of huge concern, both for them and for the knock-on effect for media freedom more broadly. The Committee to Protect Journalists has reported that at least 10 journalists have been killed so far. The first was Yaniv Zohar, an Israeli photographer working for the Israeli Hebrew-language daily newspaper Israel Hayom, who was killed alongside his wife and two daughters during the Hamas attack on Kibbutz Nahal Oz in southern Israel on 7 October. Israel Hayom’s editor-in-chief has said that Yaniv was working that day. Nine Palestinian journalists have also been confirmed dead as of yesterday and one Israeli journalist is reported missing.
Protest bans
Across the world, buildings are being lit up with blue and white, while green, white, black and red flags are being held aloft in protest. While these vigils and protests are being enacted, so too are calls to shut them down. In the UK, home secretary Suella Braverman suggested waving Palestinian flags might be a criminal act (depending on the context) and told police chiefs to be on “alert and ready to respond to any potential offences”. In France, the interior minister yesterday announced a systematic ban on pro-Palestinian demonstrations. Police have also warned against pro-Palestine rallies in Sydney, after some people chanted antisemitic slogans at a previous demonstration. The Sydney event organisers have distanced themselves from those people and said: “This behaviour has no place at these rallies.” Meanwhile, police in Sydney placed restrictions on Jewish people by warning them to stay at home while that first rally went ahead, and even arrested a man who was carrying an Israeli flag for “breach of the peace”.
There are certain areas that fall into “grey free speech” areas. Protest is usually not one of them. Only sometimes it is. The office was divided, for example, on whether there should be restrictions on protest outside abortion clinics. Today we are similarly divided. The Times argues here that some protests are making the leap from a peaceful right to expression to hate crimes. The Daily Beast argues the opposite and that these bans would erode our free speech rights.
Internet interruptions
This week we’ve heard reports of social media accounts being suspended or blocked. NetBlocks, a former Index award-winner which maps media freedom, has also reported on declining internet connectivity in areas of both Israel and Palestine, after attacks and counter-attacks. In Gaza, a total blackout is anticipated if further internet infrastructure is damaged, making access to social media all but impossible before the apps are even opened. As we reported when Erdogan cut off access to social media following the Turkey earthquakes, access to the internet and these platforms is crucial during times of disaster and war. It can be a lifeline, connecting people to aid as well as to their loved ones.
Misinformation multiplied
On Wednesday, Bellingcat founder Eliot Higgins called out a video seemingly from the BBC being circulated by Russian social media users, which claimed Ukraine was smuggling weapons to Hamas. The video was entirely fake. Others have highlighted video after video claiming to be footage of Israel bombing Gaza or Hamas airstrikes on Israel, which are in fact a combination of Assad airstrikes in Syria, fireworks in Algeria and even video game footage. Both faked and reappropriated content are running rampant on X (formerly Twitter), which is not necessarily anything new. But a Wired report suggests that the scale of the problem is new. Boosted posts from premium subscribers take precedence over once-verified news providers and hordes of fired misinformation researchers now spend their time updating their CVs rather than fighting fake news on the platform. And in an added twist fake news to smear both Muslims and Jews is also running rampant behind China’s Great Firewall on Sina Weibo.
Fair journalism
Getting news from on the ground is a huge challenge in this conflict, and it’s in that vacuum that the kind of misinformation we just outlined takes hold. So it’s all the more concerning that Israel’s public broadcaster Kan News reported that the Israeli cabinet is planning emergency legislation to ban Al Jazeera, which does have a presence on the ground in Gaza. This is not the first time Israel has announced a ban on the network. Back in 2017 Israel looked set to join a boycott by Jordan, Egypt, the United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia, which all accused the network of sponsoring terrorism. Relationships between Al Jazeera and Israel have also been very strained since the May 2022 killing of Al Jazeera correspondent Shireen Abu Akleh. But if Al Jazeera is banned, one of the few media outlets reporting from within Gaza will go silent.
We know that conflicts can deal a blow to free expression. At Index we are here to ensure that doesn’t happen, or at least if it does happen that it doesn’t go unnoticed. We will continue to monitor the situation closely.
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In 2003, 16-year-old Harara was a refugee living in Gaza. The Israeli occupation of the territory was in full force. Food was in short supply due to a lack of aid shipments. Then US president George W. Bush pledged a “personal commitment” to peace between Israel and Palestine. A new Palestinian prime minister was appointed. There were peace talks and a 7-week ceasefire, but they were disrupted by the killing of a senior Hamas leader. Throughout everything, there were reports of more suicide bombings and Israeli invasions.
Driven by the chaos around him, Harara began rapping to reflect his feelings and thoughts.
As one of the first rappers in Gaza city, he says the music gave him a unique place in society.
Rap “gave me a character, not just only a number like many people living inside the community suffering from occupation and unlivable circumstances,” he said.
Harara’s music revolves around the political situation in Palestine. He often criticises the lack of freedom of expression and the suffering of Palestinians under Hamas rule.
His activism didn’t go unnoticed. Harara’s group, Palestinian Unit, was banned by the Hamas government, along with hip hop workshops that he organised for Palestinian youth.
Because of his involvement with the Palestine Liberation Organsation before Hamas came to power in 2006, and his outspoken music, Harara was detained and jailed by the government on multiple occasions.
In 2013, Harara was able to relocate to Denmark and later Sweden, where he has been based ever since.
Despite being away, he’s still been involved in efforts back home. Using his experiences living in Gaza, Harara helped design and manage the Zouqaq project, which supports musicians in Gaza city so they can continue to make music. The project, begun in 2016 by a friend of Harara, also focused on training them to become music teachers and coaches. Harara developed the strategy for going into Gaza and implementing the initiative, and the team also built small studios inside schools using equipment from outside of Gaza.
The project, funded by the Swedish Postcode Lottery, was designed for conflict areas. He studied the risks in the area and focused on how to support artists and musicians directly without an on-the-ground organisation.
As part of the analysis Harara conducted, a Swedish journalist and colleague of his spoke with the cultural ministry and the education ministry in Gaza to ask them if they could begin sound engineering workshops in schools to teach music to hundreds of Palestinian children. Hamas more or less accepted, but UNWRA, which also operates schools in Gaza, did not.
Harara is also working on developing a cultural toolkit for other conflict areas to help organisations and individuals in those countries start effective and sustainable cultural initiatives like the Zouqaq project.
Leah Asmelash from Index on Censorship spoke with Harara about his music and the current situation in Gaza.
Index: Hamas considers you an enemy of the state and banned both your hip hop workshops and your music. What was your reaction to that?
Harara: I think Hamas considers anyone who doesn’t agree with their ideology an enemy of the state, and, to be honest, when Hamas banned the workshops that didn’t surprise us. They banned all the cultural activities that didn’t serve their cause. Hamas’ actions taught us how to work with different strategies to keep our music alive, and that gave me the experience I needed to now work in cultural project management in conflict areas.
In 2016 I launched the Zouqaq project to support music and culture in conflict areas, specifically in Gaza. It was a big success.
Working with culture in conflict areas gave me the experience I needed to understand and work with refugees that come to Europe. I am able to use culture and music as an integration tool and give them a way to communicate with the new community.
Index: Before Hamas took over, you were a soldier with the PLO forces. What was your experience like and how did that influence your music?
Harara: It’s a difficult question, and I do not know how to answer it in just a few short lines.
The most important lessons l learned at that time were that your true friend is the weapon you hold in your hands and that you should only trust your fellow soldier who is standing next to you at the checkpoint. I learned to never trust high-ranking officers, who sit in the office and give us orders to die defending our positions, while they get higher military ranks after our deaths.
I also learned not to trust politicians, no matter how much they pretend to love the country.
All these lessons opened my eyes to the bitter reality we live in Gaza, and that’s what I talk about in many of my songs.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_video link=”https://youtu.be/arSHRKBXOxU”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Index: What was the tipping point when you knew you had to leave Gaza?
Harara: The tipping point happened when I lost hope of change in the situation of Gaza. I felt very frustrated in my country, like all the young people who suffer there.
The music was my hope, but it was the cause of my suffering as well. The community was against me because of the Western music that I make and the government was against me because of my political lyrics. My parents were against my music because they thought it was a waste of time and money, and that I should get a real job.
I felt that Gaza was too small for me and for my dreams. I felt helpless there. I had no choice but to leave.
Index: How has your move to Denmark impacted your work? How do you keep up to date with news in Gaza?
Harara: Moving to Denmark impacted my work because of the level of freedom of speech there. Also I improved my musical skills by working with several Danish and European musicians. In general my life turned upside down when I decided to live in Europe.
I have learned a lot about life differently. I have worked in many European countries in the field of music, and I have the chance to speak out loud about the suffering of artists in conflict areas.
I have been living in Sweden for the last five years, after I got accepted by the ICORN organisation for a 2-year scholarship. This scholarship has grown my abilities and put me on the right path to continue my work. I formed a big network of friends and people who work in the cultural and musical field.
I get updated about Gaza by following the daily news and being in contact with friends and relatives there.
Index: How popular is hip hop in Gaza? Why do you think Hamas saw your rapping as dangerous?
Harara: Hip hop is still not very popular in Gaza, but I hope by my work and the others’ work we will change that. We hope to open a university in Gaza for this music and all types of modern art and music.
Hamas sees any cultural activity not compatible with their political views as a danger, threatening their control or breaking the fear walls that they built around the community. My lyrics criticised their behaviour, and therefore my music was seen as a threat.
Index: How does the situation in Gaza shape the art people are making, and how have you seen it change?
Harara: Living under occupation gives artists solid material to shape their art. Artists get inspired by the daily problems and obstacles they face, and art gives them an area where they can discharge all their feelings and get strength to keep going.
Art is a mirror reflecting reality and everything happening in reality reflects in art. Every fluctuation in the Gaza situation is thus reflected in the art people produce.
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Index currently runs workshops in the UK, publishes case studies about artistic censorship, and has produced guidance for artists on laws related to artistic freedom in England and Wales.
Learn more about our work defending artistic freedom.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1540979137842-f7d520ea-14c7-9″ taxonomies=”15469″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
First, the inevitable throat clearing and hand wringing. The most recent conflict between Israel and Hamas has been beyond horrendous. As I type, the ceasefire is holding. Over 1,800 Palestinians have lost their lives, more than 300 of them children. Dozens of Israelis, mostly young conscript soldiers, are also dead. There is an enormous imbalance, in firepower and in defensive capability. Better men than I have gone mad attempting to imagine a way to stop this happening again. Even that statement, I realise, reads like a cop out, but a particular sense of despair looms over this latest manifestation of a war that is only ever dormant at best.
Some clearly feel that the horror has gone too far. Author Hari Kunzru, for example, has decided to join calls for a cultural boycott of Israel. Writing on his Facebook wall, Kunzru cited an op-ed in the Jerusalem Post which suggested the “dismantling” of Gaza and the “relocation” of its non-humanitarian population. Kunzru also cited “”the targeting of schools and hospitals, the picture of a child my son’s age being dug out of rubble that reduced me to helpless tears, the total disregard of the Netanyahu government for international laws and norms…” as signs that Israel was a country that had “lost its moral compass”.
This is notable not because Hari is a well-known figure in the arts world – there are enough of those willing to sign up to any cause that comes along, and more than enough already willing to tell us exactly what they think about Israel/Palestine, or Cuba, or any other issue to which sections of the left are drawn to, like particularly verbose moths to the flames of revolution, or, worse, the great unspecified “resistance”.
No, this is notable exactly because Hari Kunzru is not one of those people. Hari is thoughtful and unshowy. And Hari has actually put in real work for free speech. I recall, in 2012, scrabbling to find a local sympathetic lawyer who would represent Hari when he faced serious risk of prosecution for reading from the Satanic Verses at the Jaipur Literary Festival, in solidarity with Salman Rushdie. He has made himself available for organisations such as Index and English PEN well beyond the call of duty. So when someone such as Hari Kunzru identifies with a cultural boycott, it means we have to take the question seriously.
The concept of boycotts, and particularly cultural and academic boycotts, have for a long time been problematic for people engaged in the promotion of free expression. Most criticisms of censorship are based on a fundamental assumption that communication of ideas is, in and of itself, a good thing. Some vague belief abounds based loosely on the Hegelian triad of thesis, antithesis, synthesis.
This can sometimes sound naive, but it does lead to useful perspectives on any argument: 1) that there are entirely sincere, well-meaning people, who may hold views completely anathema to your own, and 2) following from that, in formulating any position on proscription of certain attitudes or beliefs, or people, one must imagine being on the wrong end of the argument – a kind of categorical imperative crossed with the “golden rule”, that can end up making the certainty of others unsettling.
Boycotters often carry that absolutism and conviction that brooks no argument: a simple righteousness anchored in the belief that their view of the world is so self-evidently correct that anyone who is unconvinced by them is either deviant or deficient.
Then there is always the question of who benefits from boycotts? And who is hurt? The traditional, free expression view on cultural boycotts is that they punish precisely the people who are most outward looking and also most likely to seek change in their own countries. Is it fair to punish the artists for the actions of the government, as we have seen with the cancellation of Israeli show The City at the Edinburgh Festival following protests by the Scottish Palestine Solidarity Campaign? Or to request that the UK Jewish Film Festival should ditch Israeli government funding before it can use a venue, as Kliburn’s Tricycle Theatre has, in the name, it says, of attempting to depoliticise the event?
It is argued that theatre companies, dance troupes etc are legitimate targets for boycott if they benefit from state funding, but in truth, there is hardly a theatre company in the civilised world that does not take funding from government agencies: indeed, most western liberals see state agency funding of arts as a sign, even a crucial part, of a healthy democracy, and it is rare that state-funded companies engage in Red-Army Choir style propaganda tours – though Venezuela’s Orquesta Sinfónica Simón Bolívar, decked out in baseball jackets in the colours of the national flag, can sometimes feel a little too Potemkin for comfort.
Writing on the subject (£) of anti-Israel boycotts back in 2012, Irish Times literary editor Fintan O’Toole drafted these five rules for artists and writers invited to perform in countries with dubious records:
1) Don’t take money, directly or indirectly, from governments that systematically abuse human rights, or from oligarchs who benefit from those abuses.
2) Give a significant part of your fee to human-rights defenders or oppressed artists in the relevant country.
3) Don’t accept any restrictions on your own freedom of expression when you’re in that country.
4) Don’t perform to audiences forcibly segregated on lines of race, gender or ethnicity.
5) Don’t let yourself be used for propaganda purposes.
This was very much the approach used by Sweden’s Loreen during and after the Eurovision Song Contest hosted by Azerbaijan in 2012. The singer made efforts to meet opposition figures and voice their concerns in press conferences and TV interviews, and was widely praised for it.
In fact, O’Toole’s rules are not a million miles from the boycott pledge signed by Hari Kunzru, which states: “We support the Palestinian struggle for freedom, justice and equality. In response to the call from Palestinian artists and cultural workers for a cultural boycott of Israel, we pledge to accept neither professional invitations to Israel, nor funding from any institution linked to its government until it complies with international law and universal principles of human rights.”, though there is a crucial difference in that the boycott statement punishes both state and non-state entities, thus preventing signatories from accepting invitations from, say, a hypothetical human rights group.
And this is the problem I will continue to have with boycotts against nations, particularly nations’ cultural endeavours. They seem too blunt, too broad and flawed. Even the much-cited cultural boycott against South African apartheid went awry, with the bizarre irony of Paul Simon being criticised for technically breaking the boycott by travelling to the country to work with Ladysmith Black Mambazo, the black acapella singing group that was far from a friend of the regime.
But the problem is that for many seeking to register their disgust at the actions of foreign governments, boycott seems the only option. Perhaps it’s time for those of us uncomfortable with the idea of shutting down free speech to figure out new avenues of expression.
This column was posted on August 7, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org