How Middle East countries cover Human Rights Day - explainer

Across much of the map, protest can get you jailed, court cases are steered by security agencies rather than judges, and religious or ethnic identity often decides whether the state protects you or targets you.

That openness produces a paradox: The countries with the strongest formal protections often face the harshest scrutiny, simply because journalists, activists, and citizens can gather information and push it into public view. In more tightly controlled states, and in territories shattered by conflict, abuses may be far more severe, but far less is documented.

The overall picture is grim, but the differences between countries, and the shifts since 2024,are real and revealing, showing where rights are eroding, where they are inching forward, and where they remain almost entirely out of reach.

Lebanon still has an active NGO scene, with groups working on everything from corruption to LGBTQ+ rights, but the space is narrowing. Activists who challenge powerful sectarian leaders, criticize Hezbollah, or investigate corruption risk defamation suits, intimidation, or physical attacks. Street protests over economic collapse are often tolerated at first, then dispersed with tear gas, rubber bullets, and beatings once they threaten entrenched interests.

The economic meltdown has devastated living standards: The currency has lost most of its value, savings have been wiped out, and state services have nearly collapsed. Access to electricity, clean water, and health care is patchy, especially outside Beirut. Syrian refugees and low-income Lebanese often rely on humanitarian aid, while a small elite continues to live comfortably.

Lebanon maintains a tradition of outspoken media, but most outlets are tied to specific political or sectarian factions. Journalists who cross those red lines, by probing militia finances, drug trafficking, or foreign backing, face legal harassment, threats, or violence. Defamation and insult laws are used to drag reporters and activists into lengthy court battles, encouraging self-censorship.

Women’s rights vary by sect because personal-status law is governed by religious courts, most of which are male-dominated and favor men in divorce, custody, and inheritance. Domestic violence legislation exists but is unevenly enforced. LGBTQ+ people are targeted under “morality” and “public decency” provisions, and organized crackdowns occur when authorities feel pressure to demonstrate social conservatism.

Armed clashes between militias, political factions, and occasionally security forces still erupt in certain areas, causing casualties and displacement. Political assassinations and unexplained explosions have never been fully investigated, reinforcing impunity. Reports of torture and ill-treatment in detention, particularly by military intelligence and other security branches, continue.

The confessional system allocates power among recognized religious communities, which protects some minorities but also freezes discrimination into law. Palestinians, many of whom have lived in Lebanon for generations, face strict limits on employment, property ownership, and access to services. Migrant domestic workers are often trapped in abusive employment relationships under the sponsorship system.

Elections take place and can bring in new faces, but the confessional quota system keeps the same parties and families in key posts. Reformist lists gained some ground in recent elections, yet legislative gridlock and presidential vacuums show how hard it is for newcomers to change the system. Voters who challenge traditional patronage networks may lose access to basic services.

Overcrowding is severe, especially in pretrial detention facilities where suspects can wait years for trial. Conditions are poor, with inadequate food, sanitation, and medical care. Allegations of torture, particularly in political or security-related cases, rarely lead to prosecutions.

Recognized sects, Sunni, Shia, various Christian denominations, Druze, enjoy wide religious autonomy, managing their own courts and institutions. But this autonomy locks individuals into sect-based personal law; those who identify as nonreligious or wish to leave their community have virtually no civil alternatives on marriage and family matters inside the country. Smaller or unrecognized religious groups face bureaucratic hurdles.

Courts are formally independent but are heavily influenced by political and sectarian pressures. Corruption scandals rarely reach final judgment, and powerful figures seldom serve serious time. The explosion at Beirut’s port remains a stark example of how accountability can be blocked by the very officials who should be investigated.

Hezbollah’s armed wing remains more powerful than the national army in some domains, and its involvement in Syria and regional conflicts pulls Lebanon into broader geopolitical struggles that the electorate cannot meaningfully control.

Since President Ahmed al-Sharaa took office, the government in Damascus has formally lifted the decades-old state of emergency and announced new rules on forming associations and holding public meetings. Some professional unions and neighborhood committees have resurfaced, and a handful of opposition-linked NGOs have been allowed to register. In practice, security agencies still monitor activists closely, and protests that challenge the presidency, the military, or foreign partners are quickly contained. In Kurdish-administered regions, NGOs have somewhat more space to operate but face pressure over political and security issues. In zones still controlled by Islamist factions or remnants of jihadist groups, civil society is tightly constrained or banned outright.

Years of war, sanctions, and looting have left the economy in ruins, and the change of leadership has not yet translated into major gains for ordinary Syrians. Al-Sharaa’s government has begun limited anti-corruption drives and talks with international lenders, and has pledged to prioritize power, water, and health services in cities back under state control. Even so, many families rely on remittances and humanitarian aid. Public employees are still paid in devalued currency, with electricity available only for limited hours in many areas. In regions outside government control, access to water, health care, and schooling depends heavily on aid agencies, local militias, and foreign backers.

The new authorities have licensed a small number of independent newspapers and radio stations and released some prominent journalists and bloggers from jail. A narrow space has opened for criticism of past abuses and corruption, including under the old regime. Direct attacks on the presidency, the army, or core security institutions still carry serious risk, and red lines around foreign policy remain. Kurdish-held areas retain a somewhat freer media environment but enforce restrictions on coverage of security matters. In Islamist-held pockets, journalists face rigid ideological controls and violent reprisals if they depart from approved narratives.

Al-Sharaa’s government has promised to review personal-status laws and expand protections against domestic violence, and a few pilot programs for legal aid and shelters have started in major cities. Patriarchal norms and discriminatory statutes remain in force, especially in rural areas and conservative neighborhoods. Kurdish-led administrations continue to promote gender equality and co-leadership positions, including women in local councils and security forces. Across all zones, sexual and gender-based violence is widely reported and rarely prosecuted. LGBTQ+ people remain at extreme risk, targeted by both state and nonstate actors, and live largely in hiding.

Although frontlines have stabilized in parts of the country, civilians still face airstrikes, artillery, drone attacks, landmines, and unexploded ordnance, especially near areas contested between government troops, Kurdish forces, and remaining jihadist groups. The new government has announced a review of death sentences and a moratorium on executions in ordinary criminal cases, but security services continue to use detention and ill-treatment in counterterrorism operations. Armed groups outside state control run secret prisons where disappearances, torture, and summary executions are reported, often without any outside access.

Religious and ethnic minorities, Alawites, Christians, Druze, Kurds, Ismailis, and others, have responded to the change in government with a mix of hope and anxiety. Al-Sharaa has pledged equal citizenship and has appointed some minority figures to visible posts. In practice, communities’ safety still depends largely on local power balances, armed-group patronage, and foreign protection. Kurds in the northeast retain greater cultural and political space than before 2011 but remain under pressure from Turkish military operations and local Arab rivals. Return of displaced communities to mixed or formerly opposition-held areas is slow and fraught with disputes over property and security guarantees.

The transition has brought a new constitution and parliamentary elections overseen in part by international observers, but key opposition factions and Kurdish representatives argue that the process still favors the old security elite and allied parties. Some former dissidents now sit in parliament or local councils, yet real authority continues to rest with the presidency, top generals, and foreign patrons. In areas outside government control, parallel administrations run their own councils and courts, leaving millions of Syrians outside any national political process.

The al-Sharaa government has publicized prisoner releases and allowed limited international visits to certain facilities, but Syria’s prison system remains synonymous with torture and enforced disappearance. Families searching for relatives who vanished under the previous regime rarely receive clear answers, and new arrests by security branches continue, especially in regions where loyalty is questioned. Kurdish forces still hold thousands of suspected ISIS fighters and family members in overcrowded prisons and camps, many without charge or clear prospects for trial or repatriation. Islamist factions maintain ad hoc detention sites with no legal oversight.

Officially recognized religious communities continue to run their mosques, churches, and schools, and Al-Sharaa has sought to reassure both majority and minority groups that the state will protect pluralism. Sermons and religious institutions in government areas, though, remain under security surveillance, and clerics who challenge state policy risk dismissal or prosecution. Kurdish authorities emphasize secularism and allow diverse practices within their territories. In zones held by Islamist factions, strict codes are enforced, with severe penalties for perceived blasphemy, apostasy, or deviation from mandated norms.

Formal legal structures have been revised on paper, and a few high-profile anti-corruption trials have showcased the new leadership’s reform message. At the same time, security forces and allied militias still wield outsized influence over courts and prosecutors, particularly in terrorism and national-security cases. Kurdish-led administrations continue to build their own legal systems with modest transparency gains, yet they struggle with resources and political pressure. In jihadist-held areas, religious courts operate without basic due-process safeguards, and rulings are enforced by armed men rather than accountable institutions.

Russia, Turkey, Iran, and other foreign powers retain troops, bases, or proxy militias inside Syria, limiting the new government’s ability to control its own territory or deliver justice for past and ongoing abuses. The coexistence of a formal transitional framework in Damascus, autonomous Kurdish regions, and pockets of jihadist control leaves Syrians facing very different legal and security realities depending on where they live, even after the fall of the previous regime.

Independent human-rights and political organizations have been dismantled or driven into exile. Public gatherings that are not state-sanctioned, especially those with political, religious, or social-reform themes, are banned or quickly broken up. Many individuals once involved in rights work remain behind bars or under movement restrictions.

The government’s economic diversification drive has created new jobs and entertainment venues but also widened gaps between regions and classes. Major urban centers enjoy heavy investment, while parts of the interior remain underdeveloped. Migrant workers, who underpin the construction, domestic, and service sectors, often suffer dangerous conditions, unpaid wages, and limited access to health care.

Critical voices face exceptionally long prison sentences for peaceful expression, including for tweets, retweets, or mild criticism of policies. Self-censorship is pervasive, with many Saudis deleting old posts or leaving social media altogether. Traditional media outlets are closely aligned with official narratives.

Recent reforms have allowed women to drive, travel abroad without a male guardian in many cases, and enter more professions. At the same time, prominent women’s-rights activists have been detained and prosecuted, sending a message that reform is the prerogative of the leadership, not grassroots movements. Same-sex relations are criminalized, and suspected LGBTQ+ individuals risk entrapment, blackmail, and harsh punishment.

The country carries out one of the world’s highest numbers of executions annually, including for drug offences and security-related charges. Reports describe forced confessions, torture in detention, and executions after trials that fall well short of international fair-trial standards. Critics and perceived opponents have been subjected to extraordinary measures, including transnational threats and alleged assassinations.

The Shia minority, concentrated in the Eastern Province, reports discriminatory treatment, including disproportionate use of security charges, demolitions of neighborhoods, and limitations in state employment. Migrant workers from certain countries are concentrated in low-paid and dangerous roles, with little chance of regularization.

There are no national elections or political parties. Local municipal councils have limited authority and cannot challenge central decisions. Policy-making is concentrated in the royal court and a small inner circle, and citizens have no institutional avenue to influence major decisions beyond informal petitions.

Detention facilities house thousands of political prisoners, dissidents, and people convicted in broad security cases. Solitary confinement, denial of visits, and restricted access to lawyers and medical care are common. Families often learn about sentences only after lengthy closed proceedings.

The state promotes a particular Sunni interpretation of Islam, with tight control over mosques and religious education. Public practice of other faiths is effectively limited to private spaces; non-Muslim worship cannot be openly organized. Apostasy and blasphemy are treated as serious crimes, potentially punishable by death.

Specialized security and terrorism courts handle many politically sensitive cases. Legal procedures allow judges broad discretion, and defendants often lack access to evidence against them. Accountability for abuses by officials is opaque and selectively enforced.

Efforts to project a modern, investor-friendly image sit uneasily alongside some of the harshest punishments for online speech and activism in the region, creating a stark duality between economic liberalization and political repression.

Local charities and some professional associations operate with limited independence, but space for political organizing is almost nonexistent. Attempts to form political groups or organize protests on domestic or regional issues are usually blocked at the permit stage or quickly dispersed. Migrant workers who try to organize collectively risk deportation or blacklisting.

Citizens benefit from extensive welfare, including jobs in the public sector and subsidized services. By contrast, the vast majority of residents, migrant workers, live in tightly controlled conditions. Reforms have been announced to limit abusive sponsorship rules, but many workers still report confiscated passports, unpaid wages, and unsafe living and working environments, especially in lower-tier construction and service jobs.

State-funded outlets project an image of dynamism and global engagement, yet domestic criticism of the ruling family, foreign policy, or security partners can draw legal action. Cybercrime and “false information” provisions are used against people posting critical content online. Local journalists and residents know where the lines are and tend to avoid overt political critique.

Qatari women have high levels of education and visible roles in some professional fields, but male guardianship norms continue to restrict travel, certain employment choices, and personal decisions. Reports indicate that it can be difficult for women to leave abusive relationships. Same-sex relations are criminalized, and LGBTQ+ people face the constant threat of arrest, outing, or deportation.

The death penalty exists and has been used in a limited number of cases. Migrant workers describe beatings, confinement, and threats from employers or security personnel when they complain about working conditions. Investigations into deaths on worksites are uneven, and families of deceased workers have struggled to obtain compensation.

Noncitizens make up the overwhelming majority of the population yet have no political rights and limited recourse against employers. Some nationalities are steered into specific sectors and face entrenched wage gaps. Citizens from large tribes and families enjoy informal privileges in access to jobs and contracts.

There are no political parties and no national elections that could change the executive. A partially elected advisory council exists, but its authority is circumscribed and cannot decisively alter policy on core issues like security, foreign relations, or major economic priorities.

Information about prison conditions is limited. Former detainees describe overcrowding, lack of legal counsel during early stages of detention, and pressure to sign confessions. Migrant workers detained for “absconding” or visa infractions can be held for long periods before deportation, often with little clarity on their legal status.

Islam is the official religion. Licensed compounds in Doha host churches and other places of worship for expatriate Christians, but these sites are tightly regulated, and public religious expression outside them is restricted. Non-Muslims cannot proselytize, and Muslims who publicly question or depart from the faith risk both social and legal consequences.

The justice system offers some procedural guarantees in ordinary commercial disputes but is much more opaque in cases touching national security, morality, or political criticism. Foreign workers and low-income defendants often lack meaningful legal representation, and judicial outcomes can be heavily influenced by status and connections.

Qatar’s role as a regional mediator, including contacts with armed groups, generates diplomatic influence but little domestic debate, because decisions at this level remain tightly controlled and shielded from public scrutiny.

Independent unions, feminist groups, student organizations, and minority-rights movements operate under constant threat. Organizers of protests, from the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement to ethnic minority campaigns, face arrest, long prison terms, and sometimes death sentences. Public gatherings are broken up, often using live ammunition or mass arrests.

Sanctions, mismanagement, and corruption have driven inflation and unemployment, pushing many families into poverty. Basic services in peripheral regions populated by Kurds, Arabs, and Baluchis are notably weaker. Access to health care is strained, and environmental degradation, water scarcity, pollution, falls especially hard on marginalized communities.

Authorities block websites, throttle or shut down internet access during protests, and arrest journalists, filmmakers, and social media influencers for “propaganda against the state” or “insulting sacred values”. Even mild criticism of government policy or religious authorities can lead to prosecution; families of victims who speak publicly about abuses are themselves targeted.

Women face discriminatory family law, restrictions on travel and work, and strict dress codes enforced by morality police and surveillance cameras. The renewed enforcement of compulsory hijab, including the use of facial-recognition technology and fines or imprisonment, has driven many women into acts of civil disobedience. Same-sex relations are criminalized, and suspected LGBTQ+ individuals face extortion, torture, and the threat of execution.

Iran has one of the highest execution rates in the world, including for drug offenses, “enmity against God”, and security-related charges. Members of minority communities and protesters are disproportionately sentenced to death and executed after unfair trials. Torture in detention, beatings, sexual violence, denial of medical care, is documented across prisons and interrogation centers.

Kurds, Baluchis, Arabs, and other ethnic minorities experience discrimination in employment, education, and language rights, as well as a heavy security presence in their regions. Baha’is are subject to systematic persecution: property seizures, exclusion from universities, business closures, and arbitrary detention. Afghan refugees and migrants also face deportation, violence, and exploitation.

The candidate-vetting system screens out anyone deemed insufficiently loyal to the political and religious establishment. Reformists, dissidents, and many women are barred from running, so elections do not offer a genuine path to change. Protests are treated as security threats, not as political participation.

Prisons such as Evin and provincial facilities are notorious for overcrowding and harsh conditions. Many political prisoners are held incommunicado or in solitary confinement for long periods, and families often learn of detainees’ whereabouts only after months of silence. Medical care is frequently withheld as a form of punishment.

The state enforces a particular Shia interpretation and restricts other religious expressions. Sunni Muslims, recognized Christians, Jews, and Zoroastrians operate under surveillance and face limits on building places of worship and teaching. Unrecognized groups, especially Baha’is and converts from Islam, are at constant risk of arrest, home raids, and denial of basic services.

Revolutionary courts handle many political and security cases in closed sessions, with judges relying on confessions extracted under torture and denying defendants meaningful legal representation. Laws are drafted broadly to criminalize “insulting” religion or authorities, giving judges wide discretion to punish dissent.

Major protests since 2022 have been met with lethal force and mass arrests; authorities treat these movements not as rights-based protests but as existential threats, further closing the space for lawful opposition.