電気通信事業法施行規則等の一部改正に関する意見募集の結果及び再意見募集（第二種指定電気通信設備制度に係る状況変化等を踏まえた規定の整備・接続に関する事項）

デジタル空間における情報流通の諸課題への対処に関する検討会　青少年保護ワーキンググループ（第1回）開催案内

不適正利用対策に関するワーキンググループ（第11回）

AIネットワーク社会推進会議(第31回)AIガバナンス検討会(第27回)

When the independent Tunisian online media collective Nawaat announced that the government had suspended its activities for one month, the news landed like a punch in the gut for anyone who remembers what the Arab uprisings promised: dignity, democracy, and a free press.

But Tunisia’s October 31 suspension of Nawaat—delivered quietly, without formal notice, and justified under Decree-Law 2011-88—is not just a bureaucratic decision. It’s a warning shot aimed at the very idea of independent civic life.

The silencing of a revolutionary media outlet

Nawaat’s statement, published last week, recounts how the group discovered the suspension: not through any official communication, but by finding the order slipped under its office door. The move came despite Nawaat’s documented compliance with all the legal requirements under Decree 88, the 2011 law that once symbolized post-revolutionary openness for associations.

Instead, the Decree, once seen as a safeguard for civic freedom, is now being weaponized as a tool of control. Nawaat’s team describes the action as part of a broader campaign of harassment: tax audits, financial investigations, and administrative interrogations that together amount to an attempt to “stifle all media resistance to the dictatorship.”

For those who have followed Tunisia’s post-2019 trajectory, the move feels chillingly familiar. Since President Kais Saied consolidated power in 2021, civil society organizations, journalists, and independent voices have faced escalating repression. Amnesty International has documented arrests of reporters, the use of counter-terrorism laws against critics, and the closure of NGOs. And now, the government has found in Decree 88 a convenient veneer of legality to achieve what old regimes did by force.

Adopted in the hopeful aftermath of the revolution, Decree-Law 2011-88 was designed to protect the right to association. It allowed citizens to form organizations without prior approval and receive funding freely—a radical departure from the Ben Ali era’s suffocating controls.

But laws are only as democratic as the institutions that enforce them. Over the years, Tunisian authorities have chipped away at these protections. Administrative notifications, once procedural, have become tools for sanction. Financial transparency requirements have turned into pretexts for selective punishment.

When a government can suspend an association that has complied with every rule, the rule of law itself becomes a performance.

Bureaucratic authoritarianism

What’s happening in Tunisia is not an isolated episode. Across the region, governments have refined the art of silencing dissent without firing a shot. But whether through Egypt’s NGO Law, Morocco’s press code, or Algeria’s foreign-funding restrictions, the outcome is the same: fewer independent outlets, and fewer critical voices.

These are the tools of bureaucratic authoritarianism…the punishment is quiet, plausible, and difficult to contest. A one-month suspension might sound minor, but for a small newsroom like Nawaat—which operates with limited funding and constant political pressure—it can mean disrupted investigations, delayed publications, and lost trust from readers and sources alike.

A decade of resistance

To understand why Nawaat matters, remember where it began. Founded in 2004 under Zine El Abidine Ben Ali’s dictatorship, Nawaat became a rare space for citizen journalism and digital dissent. During the 2011 uprising, its reporting and documentation helped the world witness Tunisia’s revolution.

Over the past two decades, Nawaat has earned international recognition, including an EFF Pioneer Award in 2011, for its commitment to free expression and technological empowerment. It’s not just a media outlet; it’s a living archive of Tunisia’s struggle for dignity and rights.

That legacy is precisely what makes it threatening to the current regime. Nawaat represents a continuity of civic resistance that authoritarianism cannot easily erase.

The cost of silence

Administrative suspensions like this one are designed to send a message: You can be shut down at any time. They impose psychological costs that are harder to quantify than arrests or raids. Journalists start to self-censor. Donors hesitate to renew grants. The public, fatigued by uncertainty, tunes out.

But the real tragedy lies in what this means for Tunisians’ right to know. Nawaat’s reporting on corruption, surveillance, and state violence fills the gaps left by state-aligned media. Silencing it deprives citizens of access to truth and accountability.

As Nawaat’s statement puts it:

“This arbitrary decision aims to silence free voices and stifle all media resistance to the dictatorship.”

The government’s ability to pause a media outlet, even temporarily, sets a precedent that could be replicated across Tunisia’s civic sphere. If Nawaat can be silenced today, so can any association tomorrow.

So what can be done? Nawaat has pledged to challenge the suspension in court, but litigation alone won’t fix a system where independence is eroding from within. What’s needed is sustained, visible, and international solidarity.

Tunisia’s government may succeed in pausing Nawaat’s operations for a month. But it cannot erase the two decades of documentation, dissent, and hope the outlet represents. Nor can it silence the networks of journalists, technologists, and readers who know what is at stake.

EFF has long argued that the right to free expression is inseparable from the right to digital freedom. Nawaat’s suspension shows how easily administrative and legal tools can become weapons against both. When states combine surveillance, regulatory control, and economic pressure, they don’t need to block websites or jail reporters outright—they simply tighten the screws until free expression becomes impossible.

That’s why what happens in Tunisia matters far beyond its borders. It’s a test of whether the ideals of 2011 still mean anything in 2025.

And Nawaat, for its part, has made its position clear:

“We will continue to defend our independence and our principles. We will not be silenced.”

By Gigi Sohn, Chair, EFF Board of Directors 

With the impending departure of longtime, renowned, and beloved Executive Director Cindy Cohn, EFF and leadership advisory firm Russell Reynolds Associates have developed a profile for her successor.  While Cindy is irreplaceable, we hope that everyone who knows and loves EFF will help us find our next leader.  

First and foremost, we are looking for someone who’ll meet this pivotal moment in EFF’s history. As authoritarian surveillance creeps around the globe and society grapples with debates over AI and other tech, EFF needs a forward-looking, strategic, and collaborative executive director to bring fresh eyes and new ideas while building on our past successes.  

The San Francisco-based executive director, who reports to our board of directors, will have responsibility over all administrative, financial, development and programmatic activities at EFF.  They will lead a dedicated team of legal, technical, and advocacy professionals, steward EFF’s strong organizational culture, and ensure long-term organizational sustainability and impact. That means being: 

• Our visionary — partnering with the board and staff to define and advance a courageous, forward-looking strategic vision for EFF; leading development, prioritization, and execution of a comprehensive strategic plan that balances proactive agenda-setting with responsive action; and ensuring clarity of mission and purpose, aligning organizational priorities and resources for maximum impact. 

• Our face and voice — serving as a compelling, credible public voice and thought leader for EFF’s mission and work, amplifying the expertise of staff and engaging diverse audiences including media, policymakers, and the broader public, while also building and nurturing partnerships and coalitions across the technology, legal, advocacy, and philanthropic sectors. 

• Our chief money manager — stewarding relationships with individual donors, foundations, and key supporters; developing and implementing strategies to diversify and grow EFF’s revenue streams, including membership, grassroots, institutional, and major gifts; and ensuring financial discipline, transparency, and sustainability in partnership with the board and executive team. 

• Our fearless leader — fostering a positive, inclusive, high-performing, and accountable culture that honors EFF’s activist DNA while supporting professional growth, partnering with unionized staff, and maintaining a collaborative, constructive relationship with the staff union. 

It’ll take a special someone to lead us with courage, vision, personal integrity, and deep understanding of EFF’s unique role at the intersection of law and technology. For more details — including the compensation range and how to apply — click here for the full position specification. And if you know someone who you believe fits the bill, all nominations (strictly confidential, of course) are welcome at eff@russellreynolds.com.  

　最高裁が「保釈運用議論」を始める。　10月初め、マスコミが一斉に報じた。私は、「やっと最高裁が動き出すのか、遅きに失する」と思った。それでも、最高裁にしては「人権重視」の姿勢が少しでも前進したのかとも考えた。　最高裁が「保釈運用論議」のきっかけとなったのは、「大川原化工機えん罪事件」の一連の経緯を考えてのことだとは容易に推測が付く。　拘留中だった大川原化工機の元顧問・相嶋静夫さんに、がんが見つかったにもかかわらず保釈が認められず、病院での有効な治療が受けられないままに亡くな..

Collective solidarity and action can play a powerful role in responding to defenders at risk. This support, however, needs to be articulated in a participatory way that is meaningful to their…

川柳とは何かと問われたら、全くの素人談論に過ぎないけれど、諧謔、皮肉、そして抵抗と答える。どこに重点を置くかと言うと、人さまざまだけど、ぼくはやっぱり抵抗だなあと思う。抵抗と一口で言っても、何に抵抗するんだ、という問題が出てくる。当然、「権力に対する抵抗」である。（大野和興）

令和7年秋の叙勲（消防関係）

国民参政135周年・普通選挙100周年・婦人参政80周年記念における選挙関係功労者表彰

令和7年秋の叙勲