"The Government of Pakistan Wants Me Erased. Here’s Why It Won’t Work." — Wajahat S. Khan

Today, I learned that the Government of Pakistan has secured a court order demanding the complete blocking of my YouTube channel.

The allegation? That my journalism—my reporting and commentary that reaches over 3 million viewers per month mostly across Pakistan, India, the U.S. and UK —“disseminates and propagates fake and misleading information against the State,” and is likely to “cause fear, panic, disorder,” among other vague threats. The order further accuses my channel, along with others, of publishing “highly intimidating, provocative, and derogatory content against the State and state officials of Pakistan.”

I was made aware of this order only after YouTube contacted me directly, earlier today. Their message was clear: unless I voluntarily restrict my own content, they may be compelled to act—under what they described as “local law obligations.”

What remains unclear, however, is whether YouTube intends to restrict access only within Pakistan, or if they plan to silence my entire channel globally.

What also need to be noted for context that in the last 24 months, starting from July 2023, the government of Pakistan and its military intelligence apparatus have slammed false charges of mutiny, sedition and even terrorism against me; have tried to abduct my family members who are still in Pakistan; have tried to force my family members to sign statements claiming that I’m a foreign spy; have frozen the bank accounts of my family members; have blocked my passport and national identity card; have initiated various tax audits against me, even though I’m not a resident; have intimidated my former partner, here in New York; and have enticed me with offers of reconciliation, even inviting me back to Pakistan, where I have standing warrants for my arrest.

On what grounds? Why does the government of the nuclear-armed Islamic Republic want me gone?

Because of my reporting and opinion: which are focused on the political and military leadership of that praetorian state.

But what does this recent YouTube ban mean? I’m still working through the legal and logistical implications. But one thing is already unmistakably clear to anyone watching Pakistan’s growing assault on dissent: this is a classic case of transnational repression.

Just weeks ago, I participated in a formal submission to the U.S. Congress’ Tom Lantos Human Rights Commission on precisely this issue. The hearing underscored a rising concern within the U.S. government: Pakistan is increasingly extending its reach to intimidate and silence journalists—even those who live, work, and report from American soil.

This court order—and YouTube’s apparent openness to compliance—is not just about me. I’m one of dozens of named journalists and content creators. This is not isolated censorship; this is a coordinated effort to stifle critical journalism and control the narrative.

If you believe in free expression, open dialogue, and the right of journalists to challenge power—not just sit in air-conditioned studios parroting official talking points—then this moment should deeply disturb you. Because if this is allowed to stand, it won’t stop here.

Let me be clear: this is an unfolding situation. I don’t yet have full clarity on what this court order will mean for me or for this channel, because YouTube has not confirmed whether it intends to block access to my content only in Pakistan—or whether it might extend that restriction globally.

But here’s what I do know: we are headed down a very dangerous path. That’s why I need to state two things, without ambiguity.

First: I am a journalist. I operate under the ethics and standards of this profession. My job is to hold power to account. I will continue to report, question, and speak truth to power—regardless of whether the Government of Pakistan or the military establishment finds that inconvenient. I will not stop doing journalism simply because it makes those in power uncomfortable.

Second: I am a U.S.-based journalist, and my speech is protected by the First Amendment of the United States Constitution. The Government of Pakistan cannot compel a U.S. company—YouTube, a subsidiary of Google—to carry out its censorship agenda beyond its own borders. Attempts to do so are not only authoritarian—they are legally indefensible.

This year has already been one of the deadliest for journalists worldwide. We’ve seen intimidation, incarceration, and targeted killings of reporters who dared to do their jobs. The stakes are real.

So YouTube, if you’re listening: do not allow yourself to become a digital enforcer of dictatorship. Your platform was built to give voice to independent thinkers, journalists, and truth-tellers across the globe. Don’t let that mission be co-opted by regimes that fear dissent.

And to those in Pakistan’s corridors of power—those who tremble at the idea of an informed public and free press: you cannot kill journalism by blocking a URL.

Understand this: I will not be silenced.

By targeting me, you reveal your own fragility—a government so insecure in its legitimacy that it must weaponize courts, regulators, and law enforcement against journalists. Every takedown notice you send, every domain you block, every shadow ban you authorize—becomes further proof of your fear. You don’t suppress dissent; you spotlight it. You don’t stop the story; you spread it.

And make no mistake—there are consequences for this charade of repression. Trust corrodes. Investors pull back. Allies take notice.

Young Pakistanis, already disillusioned, see your naked aggression and make impossible choices: exile over submission, escape over silence. Many would rather risk drowning in boats than live under your boot.

The very institutions you claim to protect—the courts, the media, public faith in the state—are collapsing under the weight of your paranoia.

So go ahead. Outlaw my channel. Freeze my assets. Isolate me from my family. Haul me into kangaroo courts.

It changes nothing.

This is the only work I’ve ever done. From the day I filed my first byline for my highschool school paper at 17, to now, at the edge of 47, journalism has been my life’s work. And that work is grounded in a few unshakable truths:

A free mind cannot be caged; Silencing a journalist only amplifies his message; And a nation that punishes its best and brightest is writing its own epitaph

I stand exactly where I’ve always stood—only more resolute.

My people—the sons and daughters of Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa—have endured repression before. But not without resistance.

You may drive me from my homeland, but you will not drive me from my purpose or my people. You may erase my videos, but you cannot erase what I’ve exposed.

We will speak in new languages, rise on new platforms, gather around new fires.

We will not go quietly into your night of censorship.

Because in the end, truth is not a YouTube channel. It is not a domain to block.

It is not a voice you can mute. It is a force you cannot cage.