The rise of digital authoritarianism in South Sudan

JUBA — South Sudan’s digital transition since independence in 2011 has unfolded along two sharply diverging paths. Expanding internet penetration, cheaper data, and the spread of satellite-based connectivity have begun to pull the world’s youngest nation into East Africa’s wider communication ecosystem. At the same time, the state has steadily expanded its ability to restrict access, monitor users, and regulate online speech with little transparency.

The result is a digital landscape where connectivity grows while freedoms shrink — a paradox now shaping the country’s political, civic, economic, and social life. This tightening control also collides with the continent’s wider digital-transformation agenda. Under the African Union’s Digital Transformation Strategy (2020–2030), member states are expected to build Digital Public Infrastructure (DPI): the foundational systems that support digital identity, mobile money, e-government services, health information platforms, and online learning.

Such infrastructure relies on openness, trust, and reliable connectivity. Yet South Sudan’s pattern of shutdowns, opaque regulatory actions, and expanding surveillance is eroding those foundations, weakening the environment required for DPI to function.

Recent platform blocks, the targeting of independent media websites, and expanding forms of state monitoring point to the consolidation of a digital-authoritarian model. This investigation examines how these mechanisms operate, why they are intensifying now, and what they signal for the future of public discourse, national stability, and the African Union’s Digital Transformation Strategy (2020–2030), including ongoing efforts to build Digital Public Infrastructure.

The January 2025 shutdown

On 22 January 2025, the National Communication Authority (NCA) ordered South Sudan’s internet-service providers to block Facebook and TikTok following the circulation of videos showing the alleged killing of South Sudanese refugees in Sudan’s Al-Jazirah State. Authorities described the shutdown as a temporary measure needed to prevent “incitement.” But its timing — during a moment of heightened political sensitivity and public anger — suggested a deeper motive.

Independent network-measurement data confirmed that the shutdown was executed using a uniform pattern of TCP/IP and DNS-based filtering across the major ISPs, leaving millions of users suddenly cut off from their primary channels of information and businesses.

The shutdown highlighted a deeper risk to South Sudan’s digital future. Interruptions of this scale weaken public confidence in emerging DPI systems, including mobile-money services, digital health tools, and online education platforms.

For many small businesses, social-media access and mobile-based payments form the backbone of daily commerce. Cutting off these services — even temporarily — disrupts economic activity and reinforces a perception that the country’s digital infrastructure is unstable and politically vulnerable.

A Juba-based trader who sells clothes through Facebook Marketplace said on condition of anonymity that the blackout halted her business overnight. “All my customers contact me on Facebook or WhatsApp, and most of them pay through mobile money,” she explained. “When the shutdown happened, everything stopped. I couldn’t advertise, I couldn’t receive payments — it felt like someone switched off my entire shop.”

While the government insisted the disruption would last 30 days, sustained pressure from civil-society and international rights groups as well as western diplomatic missions forced an earlier restoration. Even so, the shutdown lasted long enough to confirm that South Sudan’s regulatory institutions were prepared to intervene swiftly and without judicial oversight whenever online narratives diverged from official positions.

Felicia Anthonio, #KeepItOn Global Campaign Manager at Access Now, said the shutdown violated South Sudan’s Constitution and international human-rights obligations under the ICCPR.

“Internet shutdowns violate fundamental rights, including freedom of expression, access to information, and freedom of assembly, and fail to meet the principles of legality, necessity, and proportionality required under international human rights law, including the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights to which South Sudan is a party,” she said, noting that claims of “public safety” often mask political motives.

Internet shutdowns, she explained in an email to this investigation, become tools by governments to “to silence dissent, control the narrative, and conceal human rights abuses,” while also endangering lives by restricting access to credible information.

“Cutting off internet access only heightens tensions and allows mis- and disinformation to flourish by denying people access to credible information, further endangering lives. Shutdowns also obstruct journalists and activists from reporting on happenings on the ground,” she added, warning that “continued restriction on the online space inevitably translates into the offline world – gradually eroding civic participation, journalism, and public oversight of government.”

Anthonio, who has tracked global shutdown patterns for years, argues that what is unfolding in South Sudan cannot be understood in isolation. Instead, it forms part of a wider global shift in which states adopt more sophisticated tools to control digital spaces while forcing citizens to navigate an increasingly fragmented and uncertain information environment. She warns that the costs of such a system accumulate quietly, shaping how communities communicate, organize, and trust the online world.

“Even as digital authoritarianism surges across the globe, people and communities are showing resilience in defending their digital rights. But forcing communities to rely on circumvention tools creates new barriers, allowing only those with technical expertise to stay connected, thereby undermining the goal of an open and accessible internet for all. This reliance also weakens trust in the digital ecosystem and risks stalling broader digital transformation efforts. It is important for all stakeholders, including civil society, the media, the private sector, and the international community, to keep drawing attention to the dangers of digital authoritarianism and demand real accountability,” she said.

Her warning mirrors broader regional patterns across East Africa, where governments frequently justify shutdowns as efforts to curb misinformation, yet routinely deploy them during political crises or moments of heightened public scrutiny — as seen during Uganda’s contested elections.

Civil society sees a closing space

To local rights organizations, the January shutdown confirmed a long-running trend toward a controlled digital sphere. Dieng Ring Adol, Acting Executive Director of the Juba-based Centre for Peace and Advocacy (CPA), said the blackout directly undermined the right of citizens to speak freely.

“The Center for Peace and Advocacy (CPA) encourages dialogue and dissemination of information through social media, [and] it is within the rights of every citizens in our country to use social media for conversation. However, it was unfortunate that the government of South Sudan had closed social media for few days. Our position remains that every South Sudanese should use social media to discuss issues from social, economic and political issues,” he said.

According to the civil society leader, the government’s decision to block online media platforms — even temporarily — erodes the space required for public dialogue and undermines citizen-state engagement, which he emphasized is essential to the country’s transition from violence to peace.

Edmund Yakani, Executive Director of Community Empowerment for Progress Organization (CEPO), urged the government to reconsider its adversarial approach to online discourse. He said the digital space should be viewed not as a threat but as an essential avenue through which citizens can offer guidance, constructive criticism, and policy feedback.

Yakani stressed that public debate — whether on social media, independent platforms, or community forums — is one of the few channels through which ordinary South Sudanese can participate in national decision-making. Treating online discussions as hostile, he warned, risks isolating the government from the very voices that could help strengthen governance and support the country’s fragile transition.

“The government should not see the media or online discussions as an enemy,” said Edmund Yakani, Executive Director of the Community Empowerment for Progress Organization (CEPO). “These platforms are a way for citizens to advise, guide, and support the state. If leaders engage with the public instead of treating criticism as hostility, they will gain insights that strengthen governance and help steer the country’s fragile transition toward stability,” Yakani said.

Digital-rights groups argue that South Sudan’s actions contradict the AU’s regional commitments. Governments building DPI are expected to strengthen transparency, safeguard personal data, and ensure uninterrupted access to essential online services. By blocking platforms and expanding extra-legal surveillance, authorities weaken the very infrastructure needed for long-term digital transformation and restrict citizens’ ability to engage with new public-interest digital tools.

A decade-long trajectory of digital control

The roots of the current environment stretch back nearly a decade. In July 2017, authorities blocked access to three major independent outlets — Radio Tamazuj, Sudan Tribune, and Nyamilepedia — in what became South Sudan’s first large-scale experiment with digital censorship. The move, implemented at a moment of heightened political tension two years following the collapse of the 2015 peace agreement, signaled that online media could be restricted without judicial oversight or public explanation.

For Radio Tamazuj in particular, the 2017 block marked the beginning of a long-term shift in how the outlet reached its audience and how the state approached independent journalism in the digital space.

Radio Tamazuj’s editors told this investigation that the 2017 restriction did far more than temporarily disrupt access — it reshaped the entire distribution model of the station’s coverage. The block significantly reduced daily web visits for years, especially in urban centres where authorities succeeded in fully cutting off access. It forced the outlet to strengthen alternative delivery systems, enhance security, and restructure its digital strategy to ensure audiences continued to receive its reporting.

“The 2017 blocking order had a profound impact on access to our website, significantly reducing daily web visits for a number of years — particularly in parts of Juba and other towns where authorities succeeded in fully restricting access,” the editorial board said. “However, our shortwave broadcasts were not affected, and listeners across the country continued to receive our programming without technical challenges.”

They explained that the block compelled them to lean more heavily on Facebook, Twitter, and VPN-backed distribution, and prompted greater investment in digital-security capacity. Radio Tamazuj’s editors also stressed that the January 2025 social-media shutdown is not an isolated event, but a continuation of the same censorship trajectory.

They said the legal weaknesses underpinning the latest shutdown reflect the same opacity seen in 2017, raising deeper questions about due process, regulatory accountability, and the extent to which independent journalism can operate safely in South Sudan. For the editorial board, the recurrence of legally questionable restrictions signals a broader institutional risk that regulators can disable access to major media platforms at any moment, with no transparency or checks on their authority.

“We view the January 2025 social media shutdown as a continuation of the censorship trajectory that began with the blocking of independent media websites in 2017,” the editors said, adding that if investigators confirm the NCA relied on a non-existent legal provision, it highlights a wider problem. “Such actions set a worrying precedent: if regulators can disable access to major media platforms based on non-existent legal clauses, it places all public-interest media in South Sudan at risk.”

A second major escalation occurred in June 2020, when Sudans Post was silently blocked in South Sudan. Swedish digital-forensics group Qurium Media Foundation later uncovered that the block was executed through multiple upstream providers and bypassed any lawful process. Qurium reported that only IP ranges linked to senior government institutions — including the presidency and National Security Service (NSS) — retained access.

Together, these incidents established two clear precedents. First, independent outlets could be removed from public access without explanation. Second, the security apparatus could act entirely outside judicial or constitutional oversight.

Surveillance capacity expands quietly

Since 2021, the NSS and NCA have deepened coordination with telecom operators, according to telecommunications insiders interviewed for this investigation. Staff described routine government requests for call-record metadata, SIM registration details, and location logs — often without court warrants.

Several activists who were once detainees of the National Security Service reported that interrogators referenced private text messages, location trails, and call histories during questioning, indicating access to user-specific communication data.

Former Northern Bahr el Ghazal State governor and highly celebrated civil rights activist Kuel Aguer Kuel described a similarly invasive pattern during his own detention. He explained that the National Security Service not only possessed equipment capable of monitoring private communications, but actively used multiple channels to access personal devices and digital histories.

According to him, both the NSS and the police’s Criminal Investigation Department sought forensic information from his phones and laptop—including by sending the devices to Sudan’s communications-monitoring unit—in an attempt to retrieve text messages, call records, and online activity.

“It is true that NSS has equipment for monitoring private communications in all its forms. During my detention, part of the delay was linked to forensic information. My laptop and three telephones were taken for examination, including to Sudan’s security communications monitoring system, to check all my communications. While they failed to open two smartphones, they were able to extract SMS messages from a basic phone. Later, people I had communicated with told me they received warnings from NSS not to accept calls from me, even those outside the country,” he said.

Morris Mabior, a South Sudanese political activist abducted from Kenya in September 2023 and later detained at the NSS headquarters in Juba, described a similarly intrusive pattern of digital surveillance during his 22-month detention. His account indicates that the National Security Service not only seized his devices but compelled access to his personal accounts, manually reviewing private messages, emails, and chats without any form of legal authorization.

Mabior said NSS officers forcibly extracted passwords under intimidation and used the information retrieved from his digital platforms in subsequent interrogations and court proceedings. His experience demonstrates how surveillance practices went beyond monitoring communications in transit, extending into the physical seizure, forced unlocking, and systematic inspection of personal digital archives.

“During interrogation, NSS officers forced me to surrender passwords to my Facebook, email, and all my devices while displaying guns on the table. They opened my laptop and three smartphones and went through every message, email, and chat I ever had—without a warrant or any legal approval. The information they pulled from my private accounts was later used against me in court. They also kept all my devices and even the money in my M-Pesa and cash—nothing has ever been returned,” he said.

The government has also invested in foreign technology. ZTE, a Chinese telecoms firm, received an estimated USD 10 million between 2013 and 2021 for services linked to website blocking, traffic filtering, and surveillance support. In 2021, authorities reportedly disputed payments with ZTE after blocking operations continued without compensation, according to Sudans Post reporting at the time.

While the sophistication of the surveillance system remains limited compared to regional powers such as Ethiopia or Uganda, analysts say its psychological impact is severe. Journalists increasingly avoid discussing political matters on regular phone lines. Activists rely on VPN-masked accounts. Diaspora leaders use foreign SIMs when contacting relatives in Juba. What emerges is not a heavily surveilled society, but a self-policing one — a hallmark of digital authoritarianism.

Regulatory consolidation

As digital surveillance deepened, regulatory power also consolidated. The NCA holds sweeping authority over domain-level access, platform blocking, and content regulation, without judicial review or publicly available criteria. Its decisions are communicated directly to ISPs, and there is no appeals mechanism.

On 6 October 2025, the Media Authority abruptly suspended Hot in Juba for alleged “abusive and defamatory statements.” The suspension of one of the country’s most widely read social media platforms illustrates the growing reach of regulatory discretion.

But Hot in Juba’s management says the process was flawed. In September, their Editor-in-Chief, Mariak Bol, who was outside the country, was summoned to appear before an investigation committee. When he delegated the company’s lawyer, officials refused to meet him. A second summon produced the same result. The platform was never shown the posts it allegedly violated nor given the opportunity to respond through legal representation.

Hot in Juba argues that its suspension was timed to coincide with its application for an expanded radio-broadcasting license, suggesting the action may have been punitive rather than procedural. A Media Authority official reportedly warned that they would ask the NCA to block Hot in Juba entirely — a threat aligned with the broader trajectory of tightening control.

The shifting environment is reinforced by political rhetoric. After being sworn in on 19 November 2025, Information Minister Ateny Wek Ateny urged journalists to operate within the law, but warned that criticism without “evidence and facts” would be met with libel action.

“To journalists, I have given you free hand to talk,” Ateny said. “You talk about anything, provided you’re on the side of the law. This is what I want to tell you, here’s my advice. When you are writing in your Facebook page about whether ministering, myself has done wrong, you write it, provided equip yourself with the evidence and facts. If you do it otherwise, I have a lawyer. A lawyer will seek a libel in the court of law, and if you are found guilty in the court of law, then let your family not blame me, that it is me who have actually infringed on your right.”

The statement underscores the widening gap between the government’s formal assurances of media freedom and the realities of enforcement on the ground. While presented as a gesture of openness, Ateny’s warning reflects an environment in which criticism is tolerated only within boundaries defined by the state. It highlights how legal threats are increasingly used to manage public discourse, reinforcing a climate of caution within the media sector.

The National Communications Authority did not respond to multiple requests for comment for this investigation. Their silence follows a familiar pattern in South Sudan, where regulatory bodies rarely engage with inquiries related to censorship, surveillance, or restrictions on online speech. Attempts to obtain clarification from officials often go unanswered, leaving key decisions shrouded in opacity.

Impact on South Sudan’s peace process and national stability

The widening controls in South Sudan come as East Africa follows two sharply different trajectories on digital rights. Kenya stands out as a regional counter-example: the country has strengthened transparency requirements for takedown requests, limited the conditions under which platforms can be blocked, and maintained one of the most open online spaces on the continent.

By contrast, Uganda and Ethiopia have repeatedly ordered nationwide shutdowns during elections or security crises, with similar claims of “public safety” or “national security.” South Sudan now appears to be drifting toward this restrictive axis, guided by a regulatory model that prioritizes control over openness.

Digital restrictions have direct implications for South Sudan’s fragile peace process. The 2018 Revitalized Peace Agreement emphasizes transparency, dialogue, and the protection of political expression. But shutdowns, surveillance, and website blocking hinder communication between civil-society actors, diaspora communities, local peace mediators, and humanitarian agencies.

Beyond political participation, shutdowns and surveillance also undermine the rollout of Digital Public Goods (DPGs) such as e-learning portals, public-health information systems, and mobile-based financial services. These platforms depend on reliable connectivity and user trust — both of which deteriorate when citizens fear monitoring or sudden service disruptions. As South Sudan slowly expands its digital footprint, such instability threatens to stall progress on DPI and limits the country’s ability to benefit from regional and global digital-development frameworks.

The January 2025 shutdown occurred precisely as discussions were underway on transitional governance and security arrangements, limiting public access to independent updates and constraining debate at a critical political moment.

Civil-society leaders such as CEPO’s Edmund Yakani long warned that blocking independent outlets reduces pluralism, undermines public accountability, and erodes trust in state institutions. Radio Tamazuj, Sudans Post, and others play a significant role in informing communities across South Sudan and the region. Limiting access to these platforms narrows the information ecosystem and undermines informed participation in national dialogue.

Economically, shutdowns disrupt small businesses dependent on Facebook Marketplace, WhatsApp, and mobile-based marketing. Digital-rights experts note that unpredictable regulatory environments deter investors and slow digital-services development.

South Sudan’s digital landscape stands at a crossroads. Connectivity is expanding faster than at any point since independence, yet the mechanisms of state control are maturing simultaneously. The 2025 shutdown was not an isolated intervention, but the logical outcome of a trajectory that began with the 2017 website blocking and intensified through the 2020 silent shutdown of Sudans Post.

Access Now warns that reliance on VPNs and other workarounds risks creating a fragmented digital environment in which only the technically skilled remain fully connected. This deepens inequality and erodes trust.

The choices South Sudan makes now — openness or control — will shape not only the online space, but the country’s long-term political stability, freedom of expression, and the health of its civic environment. The stakes extend beyond connectivity. They touch on the core of South Sudan’s political future: whether citizens can speak freely, whether journalists can operate independently, and whether digital space will serve the public interest or the architecture of state power.