This article by Jenny Farrell first appeared in Unity, the weekly publication of the Irish Communist Party.
THE EU presents itself as a champion of press freedom and human rights, but that image is rapidly fraying. It is increasingly deploying its sanctions machinery against journalists and analysts who challenge establishment narratives — often with devastating consequences for their livelihoods, families, and basic civil rights.
Several recent cases show the scale of this shift. German journalist Hüseyin Doğru, a Berlin-based father of five, was added in May 2025 to the EU’s 17th sanctions package against Russia over his pro-Palestinian reporting, accused of fostering “discord” and indirectly aiding Russian destabilisation — without publicly presented evidence. His bank accounts were frozen, he was banned from travel across the EU, and effectively barred from earning a living, including freelance work. When a newspaper tried to hire him, authorities warned it would breach sanctions law. Doğru now describes a life where even basic acts — buying food or receiving help — carry legal risk. In early 2026, authorities escalated further by seizing his wife’s accounts over alleged “sanctions evasion” linked to routine expenses. The family survives on minimal funds, facing homelessness; even a neighbour bringing bread could theoretically be prosecuted.
Ulrich Heyden, a 72-year-old journalist who has reported from Moscow for 34 years, suffered a different but equally damaging blow. His bank, Hamburger Sparkasse, closed his account because he lives in a “high-risk country” — Russia. Heyden is not on any sanctions list; his apparent offence is reporting “with understanding, not with foam at the mouth.” His colleagues Thomas Röper and Alina Lipp faced similar treatment, while Russian opposition figures in Germany continue to receive state support. The double standard is glaring.
Patrik Baab, author of On Both Sides of the Front, was subjected to an orchestrated campaign of denunciation by state-funded academics and media. Despite this, his readings drew standing ovations — but the pattern was clear: discredit critical voices early, making formal sanctions almost unnecessary.
Jacques Baud, a former Swiss colonel and UN peacekeeping expert, learned he had been placed on the EU sanctions list only when contacted by a journalist. He has never been formally told why. The consequences were sweeping: loss of access to his finances, inability to pay rent, and even restrictions on travel from Brussels to Switzerland. A limited humanitarian exemption came only after weeks of hardship. His real offence appears less any concrete alignment than a refusal to conform — insisting on analysis and dialogue that challenge the dominant narrative of the Ukraine war.
Since May 2025, fifty-nine individuals have been sanctioned for alleged “disinformation,” under ever-expanding criteria that now include merely planning “information manipulation,” with no coordination required. In practice, almost any critical statement can be recast as sanctionable.
The chilling effect is unmistakable: which journalist will risk covering Gaza or Ukraine when the price could be total economic ruin?
A parallel dynamic appears in the treatment of figures like Francesca Albanese, UN Special Rapporteur on human rights in the occupied Palestinian territories. In early 2025, her speaking events in Germany were cancelled under political pressure, followed by calls from several European foreign ministers for her removal based on a selectively edited video. Human rights organisations condemned this as an attack on free expression. Albanese herself described it as part of a broader effort to silence dissent, extending into academia and diplomacy.
The EU’s sanctions reveal a dictatorial momentum: the state defines permissible speech and punishes deviation extra-judicially. In effect, one must align with the dominant pro-war narratives or risk losing the means to live. When speaking out carries existential consequences, real debate collapses — and once lost, it is rarely easily restored.