Saudi Arabia’s position in international freedom assessments can no longer be softened, contextualised, or explained away as a “transitional challenge” or a matter of “cultural specificity,” as the official narrative insists. The latest global freedom indicators reveal not a system struggling toward reform, but a stable and coherent architecture of repression, enforced through law, security institutions, the judiciary, and economic control, resulting in the near-total closure of the public sphere. These figures are not decorative statistics; they are direct evidence that the state has chosen comprehensive subjugation over political reform, and that claims of openness or modernisation function only as a thin veil over a far darker reality.
Freedom at the bottom: nine points that define a depoliticised state
According to the latest assessment by Freedom House, Saudi Arabia is classified as “Not Free,” scoring just 9 out of 100 on the overall freedom index. This is not merely a low score; it reflects the near-total absence of fundamental rights. In the category of political rights, the kingdom received 1 out of 40 points, signalling the complete lack of national elections, political participation, representation, or meaningful accountability. Civil liberties fared little better, with 8 out of 60 points, confirming that freedom of expression, association, and public activity are not simply restricted, but effectively hollowed out.
Regionally, Saudi Arabia ranks among the very worst, outperforming only states experiencing open warfare or institutional collapse. Globally, it sits alongside regimes known for systematically sealing off public life. This comparison alone exposes the contradiction between the regime’s discourse of “stability” and the reality revealed by the data: stability achieved not through consent or social contract, but through the eradication of politics itself.
The digital space as a punishment zone
The condition of online freedom mirrors the collapse of the physical public sphere. In the 2025 assessment of internet freedom, Saudi Arabia remains among the world’s worst performers, once again classified as “Not Free.” Digital space is not treated as a domain of expression, but as an extension of the security apparatus. Accounts are monitored, websites blocked, opinions tracked, and even minor commentary criminalised if it deviates from the approved line.
Vaguely worded cybercrime laws are deployed to turn social media posts into criminal charges. Reports document long prison sentences imposed not for incitement to violence, but for criticism, commentary, or content sharing. The result is suffocating self-censorship, where silence becomes the safest option and public speech a calculated risk.
Law without safeguards: the judiciary as an instrument of deterrence
The report underscores how Saudi Arabia’s legal framework grants authorities sweeping discretionary power through elastic concepts such as “harm to public order” or “disturbing public opinion.” These provisions are not safeguards for society, but tools for silencing it. Arbitrary arrest, prolonged detention without trial, denial of access to legal counsel, and isolation from family members remain routine practices.
Despite the formal prohibition of torture, multiple testimonies describe physical and psychological abuse, prolonged solitary confinement, medical neglect, and forced confessions. These confessions are then used as the basis for harsh sentences, transforming the judiciary into a mechanism that legitimises decisions made in interrogation rooms rather than courts of law.
Execution as policy: violence at the core of governance
One of the most alarming elements highlighted is the unprecedented escalation in executions. According to Agence France-Presse, Saudi Arabia carried out at least 338 executions in 2024, a historic record and nearly double the number from the previous year. This surge cannot be separated from the broader political and security context.
More than two-thirds of those executed were convicted of non-lethal offences, particularly drug-related cases, in direct violation of international standards that restrict capital punishment to the “most serious crimes.” A significant proportion of those executed were foreign nationals, raising serious questions about due process, equality before the law, and access to legal protection. Here, execution functions not as an exceptional penalty, but as a method of intimidation and collective deterrence.
Structural discrimination and unprotected groups
Repression extends well beyond political dissent. The report documents ongoing legal and practical discrimination against women and religious minorities, alongside systemic exploitation of migrant workers under a sponsorship system that continues to facilitate abuse. Passport confiscation, wage theft, movement restrictions, and unsafe working conditions remain widespread.
The report also notes the persistence of child marriage through judicial exemptions and the lack of effective protection for children in informal labour sectors. On the southern border, serious allegations of abuse and lethal force against migrants have been recorded, under conditions that prevent independent investigation. These violations demonstrate that repression in Saudi Arabia is not selective, but structural, targeting all groups lacking political or social protection.
A state defined by repression, not reform
Taken together—record executions, arbitrary detention, torture, enforced disappearances, criminalised speech, digital surveillance, and institutionalised discrimination—the picture is unmistakable. Saudi Arabia is governed through fear rather than law. Execution is no longer the endpoint of a judicial process, but the apex of a repressive system that begins with a tweet, continues through a cell, and may end at the scaffold.
This is not a temporary deviation or the cost of transition. It is a model of governance that has embraced repression as its organising principle. Sovereignty here is measured not by the protection of rights, but by the capacity to extinguish them. History will not remember this system by its narratives or reforms, but by a far simpler question: how many lives were broken to keep it standing?
