The Ministry of Information and Communication Technology’s new “ethical social media” initiative is presented as a public service to curb falsehoods. Yet its rollout, fronted by minister Emma Theofelus alongside the inspector-general of the Namibian Police, Joseph Shikongo, conveys a different priority: enforcement first, dialogue later.
In a democracy, that signal chills speech long before any statute is passed.
Article 21 of the Constitution protects freedom of speech and of the press. Internationally, Article 19 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) sets a three-part test for any restriction: it must be grounded in law, pursue a legitimate aim, and be necessary and proportionate.
Broad warnings about “reckless posts”, coupled with talk of custody or imprisonment, fail that test when terms are vague, thresholds unclear, oversight weak, or appeals absent. Vague rules enable selective enforcement.
Beyond these high-level guarantees, Namibia already has practical mechanisms that could be strengthened instead of sidelined. The country’s media self-regulation system, through the Media Ombudsman and the Editors’ Forum of Namibia, offers a complaints path, corrections, and rights of reply without criminalising speech.
Courts in Namibia have also broadly recognised that reporting on matters of public interest deserves breathing room; the principle that reasonably verified, public-interest reporting should not be chilled by punitive measures is well established. In simple terms: if the state truly aims to fight falsehoods, it should back robust access-to-information practices, faster official disclosures, and an independent corrections process, rather than an intimidating campaign fronted by police.
SILENCING DISSENT
The minister has faced intense online criticism linked to public allegations about a relationship with fugitive businessman Victor Malima, who is tied to the Namcor corruption saga. Launching a speech “ethics” campaign, flanked by the police chief, at this moment looks less like civic education and more like message management. Instead of answering the substantive ethics questions raised by citizens and the press, the state appears to be warning critics about their tone.
That is not how trust is built.
A rights-respecting path starts with transparency, not optics. Namibia’s access-to-information tools should be the primary antidote to rumour: timely facts shrink the oxygen for falsehoods. Government can also publish narrow, workable definitions for misinformation, disinformation, and “incitement”, with plain examples and clear exclusions for protected speech, so both users and officials know where the boundaries lie.
Put the media ombudsman, the Editors’ Forum of Namibia, civil society, youth groups, educators and technologists at the centre of the process. Give them access to data, a mandate to flag overreach, and a fast, fair, public appeals route. If sanctions are contemplated, start with warnings and reasoned decisions, and offer a genuine right of reply, not handcuffs, for ill-defined harmful content.
If this is education, it should not be police-branded. Law enforcement is a last resort for the narrow band of unlawful expression, such as direct incitement to violence, where criminal law properly applies. Everything else is better handled through counterspeech, media literacy, fact-checking and, where needed, civil remedies.
Finally, model the transparency sought from citizens by holding regular briefings; publishing proactive disclosures on high-interest issues; and releasing quarterly statistics on any enforcement, including how many warnings, categories, and outcomes, so the public can judge whether measures are targeted and proportionate or drifting into viewpoint policing.
There are also concrete safeguards Namibia can adopt without chilling debate. First, publish a short speech harm matrix with bright lines: direct incitement to violence and targeted harassment sit on the criminal edge; reputational disputes and opinionated criticism sit firmly within protected speech and should be handled by civil remedies, ombuds processes, or counterspeech.
Second, mandate a warning-first approach online: explain the rule, cite the post, and give the user a chance to correct; escalate only if the conduct repeats. Third, build an independent appeals panel with strict timelines: seven days to lodge and seven to decide, so people aren’t left in limbo. Lastly, create a public dashboard that anonymises cases but shows trends: categories, outcomes, and reversal rates. Sunlight is a better disinfectant than handcuffs.
REPRESSION GLOBALLY
Reporters and protesters face growing harassment, more resource-draining lawsuits, and mounting pressure on the platforms that host public debate. Authoritarian and democratic governments alike invoke “ethics” to justify narrower speech space. Russia’s jailing of journalists, tighter protest rules in parts of Europe, and rhetoric in the United States branding the press as “enemies” show how quickly norms erode once power grows comfortable disciplining expression. The contexts differ, but the warning is the same: normalise coercion, and the slope turns slippery.
In Palestine, the toll on journalists has been devastating. More than 180 Palestinian journalists have been killed since Israel’s latest genocidal campaign started almost two years ago, and recently Al Jazeera’s Anas al-Sharif and four colleagues were killed in a strike in Gaza. Officials claimed militant targeting; independent reporting noted no evidence that al-Sharif was a combatant. When those documenting events are killed, the world loses its witnesses, and the public loses the facts it needs to judge those in power.
Strategic lawsuits against public participation (SLAPPs) aim to bankrupt reporters and activists into silence; surveillance technologies have been turned on newsrooms and human rights defenders; and “fake news” statutes with vague wording allow authorities to brand inconvenient truths as unlawful content.
The common thread is the use of broad, elastic language that lets officials pick winners and losers in public debate. Namibia should run the other way: adopt narrow definitions, independent review, and transparency that make abuse of power harder, not easier.
The Principles and the African Commission’s Declaration of Principles on Freedom of Expression and Access to Information in Africa emphasise that restrictions must be necessary and proportionate and that public-interest speech enjoys heightened protection.
The Rabat Plan of Action sets a high threshold for criminal incitement, focusing on intent, content, context, and imminence. None of these frameworks prevent the state from acting against genuine harm; they simply ensure that action doesn’t become a pretext to muzzle dissent.
OWNERSHIP
The ownership and control of social media platforms have directly harmed free expression. While platform owners may ‘champion’ free speech, their actions often contradict this ideal. This paradox arises because these companies are private enterprises, not public squares, and their primary motivations are often profit and liability mitigation.
A single owner or a small board of directors can change a platform’s entire content moderation policy overnight, with sweeping consequences for millions of users. This has led to inconsistent and often confusing moderation decisions.
For example, some platforms have banned users for sharing information that was later proven to be true, while others have been criticised for not acting fast enough to remove genuinely harmful content like hate speech or misinformation. This selective and often opaque application of rules creates a chilling effect, where users become hesitant to express themselves for fear of being penalised or deplatformed, regardless of whether their speech is protected under the law.
Furthermore, the rise of powerful, centralised platforms has made them prime targets for government pressure and regulation. Governments around the world are increasingly trying to influence what is and isn’t allowed online, and platform owners, to protect their business interests, may be more inclined to comply with these demands. This can lead to a scenario where national laws and political agendas, rather than universal principles of free expression, dictate what is permissible on a global scale.
When people fear speaking, corruption flourishes. When rules are unclear, power decides. When officials treat critics as offenders, the public learns that silence is safer than scrutiny. Namibia can do better by narrowly targeting genuine harms, protecting robust debate, and answering critics with facts… or it can lean into control.
