In Saudi Arabia last week, it was reported that a 28-year-old man had been sentenced to 10 years in jail, 2,000 lashes and a fine of 20,000 riyals ($5,330) for expressing his atheism on Twitter.
The kingdom's religious police said he had posted more than 600 tweets "denying the existence of God, ridiculing Quranic verses, accusing all prophets of lies and saying their teachings fuelled hostilities". When told to repent, the man – who has not been named – reportedly refused, saying that what he wrote reflected his beliefs and that he had the right to express them.
Also in Saudi Arabia last week, the Shoura Council (the unelected parliament) was busy discussing plans for an Arab Court of Human Rights. According to officials cited by Arab News, the court – to be based in Bahrain – "will seek to promote the human dignity, justice, equality and the rule of law in order to achieve the goals and objectives of the Arab Charter on Human Rights".
This court, once established, might seem an obvious place for the atheist Twitter user, and others like him, to appeal for help. But don't count on it.
In principle, the idea of an Arab human rights court is not a bad one; if implemented properly it could be a much-needed step towards holding governments accountable for abuses. However, a closer look shows something else is going on here.
The proposal was initially put forward in January 2012 by the king of Bahrain and adopted by the Arab League shortly afterwards. It appears to have been part of Bahrain's image-polishing efforts following suppression of the 2011 uprising.
The idea was also encouraged at the time by Mahmoud Cherif Bassiouni, the Egyptian-born law professor who headed the Bahrain Independent Commission of Inquiry (BICI) but when he saw how the plans were developing he changed his mind. In 2014, he said it was likely to turn into a "Potemkin" tribunal – a fake institution designed only to impress.
"I think one can say the drafting process [for the statute setting up the court] lacked transparency and broad-based consultations with experts from the region, as well as experts from existing human rights tribunals," he said. "Also, it was clear from the beginning that it was a governmental process, and those drafting the statute were not legal experts, but government representatives."
Last year, the Swiss-based International Commission of Jurists issued a damning 44-page report which said the statute, as eventually approved by the Arab League's ministerial council in 2014, fell "well short" of regional and international human rights standards:
"The deficiencies are manifest, particularly those provisions relating to the Arab Court’s jurisdiction; the guarantees of the independence of the Arab Court, including the independence of its judges; the admissibility of cases; and access to the court for victims of human rights violations."
Bizarrely, individual victims of rights abuse would not be allowed to take their cases to the court unless supported by an Arab government or an NGO approved by an Arab government.
"By denying individual victims the right to have direct recourse to the court, the statute defeats the very purpose and raison d'être of a regional human rights court," the report said.
The International Commission of Jurists also complained that "the statute does not adequately ensure the independence and impartiality of the court and its judges", and also said Bahrain was an unsuitable place to locate the court:
"As affirmed in numerous UN and other independent human rights reports, the human rights situation in Bahrain in recent years has been abysmal. Over the last four years in particular, the Bahraini authorities have pursued a sustained, violent crackdown against opposition leaders, human rights defenders and peaceful protesters in violation of their rights to freedom of expression and freedom of assembly ...
"Hosting the Arab Court in a state that is not only responsible for such violations, but also fails to ensure any form of accountability for them, undermines both the credibility and effectiveness of the court."
One of the key reference points for the court, once it becomes operational, will be the 2004 version of the Arab Charter on Human Rights – a document which the UN's High Commissioner for Human Rights refused to endorse, on the grounds that it fails to meet international norms and standards.
Projects like the Arab Court of Human Rights and the Arab Charter on Human Rights have two basic purposes. One is to defuse criticism of abuses by creating an impression that Arab governments – even if they are usually the perpetrators of such abuses – are trying to prevent them.
The other aim is to undermine the idea of universal rights by claiming that Arab countries are a special case where different (and invariably lower) standards can be applied. Conveniently, religion is usually cited as the reason for excluding Arabs from the protection afforded to others.
Thus, for example, the Arab Charter on Human Rights invokes God in the first sentence of its preamble and claims to be promoting "the eternal principles of fraternity, equality and tolerance among human beings consecrated by the noble Islamic religion and the other divinely-revealed religions".