Who’s With The Band?: Labour of Care for Musicians
The case of banned Indonesian punk band Sukatani This music censorship case demonstrates censored artwork’s tenacity: banned music always finds its way to reach its listeners. However, while a song might ironically – go viral thanks to the censorship, the musicians — especially women — often suffer severe consequences. This raises the question of what resources are needed to care for the wellbeing of the artists? On 20 February 2025, Indonesian punk band Sukatani posted an apology video addressed to the Indonesian National Police on their Instagram account @sukatani.band, stating that they had removed their song, ‘Bayar Bayar Bayar’ (‘Bribe, Bribe, Bribe’), from all streaming platforms. They also asked their fans to delete videos containing the song on social media saying Sukatani “will not be responsible for any issues arising in the future.” The song criticises police officers who abuse their authority. The lyrics capture a reality experienced by many Indonesians who are forced to bribe corrupt police officers: from obtaining a driving license, securing gig permits, reporting lost belongings, “negotiating” prison terms, to obtaining logging licenses. Sukatani’s fans were shocked by the apology video because in it the previously anonymous duo — known only by their stage names Alectroguy and Twister Angel — appeared without masks for the first time. People blamed the police for forcing them to make the video and for exposing the duo’s real identities. Predictably, both the National Police and the Central Java Regional Police at first denied the accusations. The National Police said it is a modern institution that welcomes public criticism and that no orders were issued to Sukatani to remove their songs from streaming platforms. However, the National Police subsequently apologized offering the honorary title of “Police Ambassador” to the Sukatani duo and giving them permission to reupload their song. The Regional Police followed suit, issuing a statement that everyone was free to express their opinion. The ban, to the police’s chagrin, had only served to make the song go viral. ‘Bayar Bayar Bayar’ had gained 200K streams before the ban, but now it was everywhere, online and offline. The video also went viral alongside various reinterpretations in memes and videos mocking the police. Many musicians made cover versions of the song. Other bands performed the song and offered public support to Sukatani at their own concerts. During the Iklim Fest music and arts festival in Jakarta, Balinese eco-punk band Navicula featured images of Sukatani on their stage backdrop, reminding the audience that “in this dark era we are entering, we should not be afraid to scream louder.” The hashtag #kamibersamasukatani (We are with Sukatani) also went viral. One of the most popular video memes was posted on X by Kementerian Kegelapan (The Ministry of Darkness) portraying police officers doing their exercises with the song playing in the background. It has so far gained 2.7 million views. Human rights organisations, led by the Indonesian Legal Aid Foundation, offered their support by providing legal consultation. Other organisations and individual activists initiated campaigns to support Sukatani on social media. On 24 February 2025, the Detik.com news portal reported that Sukatani’s vocalist, Twister Angel, had been fired from her job as a public-school teacher apparently for violating the school’s Code of Ethics. Teaching was Twister Angel’s main source of income, and she had intended to build a career as a teacher. The Sukatani case went viral at a moment when the Indonesian civil movement needed a figure to strengthen their resistance. Students and activists rallied on the streets of many cities in a series of protests dubbed ‘Dark Indonesia.’ Their main targets of criticism were the government’s recent “budget efficiency” drive that has impacted state education funds, healthcare and various ministerial programs. They also resisted the government’s attempt to reinstate the military and police’s “dual function,” that would allow active military and police officers to take up civilian positions in the government, by revising the Indonesian National Military and Police Law. During the street rallies, protesters performed ‘Bayar Bayar Bayar’ in front of police and military officers. Sukatani became a symbol of hope that ordinary Indonesians longed for. On 1 March 2025, Sukatani issued a public statement that they had indeed faced intimidation by the police. They uploaded a post on their Instagram account detailing the incident that happened in July 2024. According to the statement, the duo said they had suffered from both financial and psychological damages from which they were still recovering. They said Twister Angel’s termination of employment was an example of unfair workplace treatment, with the reason given for the termination was her being a member of a punk band. The school did not explain why that was considered as a “severe violation of the code of ethics.” The Sukatani case illustrates how artists can be intimidated and pressured into apologizing for their creative expressions by a police force unwilling to tolerate criticism. However, it also demonstrates how censorship efforts can backfire, igniting public outrage and drawing even more attention to the very works authorities seek to suppress—elevating their creators to cause célèbre status. Yet for the artists, the consequences of censorship often extend far beyond the initial controversy. They risk being blacklisted and, as in the case of Twister Angel, losing their livelihoods. At the same time, the case prompts reflection on the unintended consequences of turning artists into symbols of resistance, raising questions about the risk of glorifying them as “martyrs” for a larger cause. As cultural rights defenders we are aware that we have very limited resources to provide care for artists at risk. This area needs more support urgently. Labour of care exists side by side with labour of love (for culture, music, and the arts). To sing louder, we need deeper investment in long-ignored care work. Ratri Ninditya Coordinator for Research at Koalisi Seni, a partner organization of Freemuse.
Peru’s artists demand protection following Paul Flores’ murder
It is with deep shock that we learn of the murder of Paul Flores on 16 March 2025. Flores, a musician featured in Freemuse’s Music Freedom Day 2025 action that raised the impact of the rising tide of violence and insecurity in Peru, was the lead singer of the renowned cumbia band Armonía 10. Known as El Ruso, he was fatally shot while the band’s bus was returning from a performance in the city of Huacho. The incident occurred in San Juan de Lurigancho, a district of Lima known for its high crime rates. Individuals on a motorbike fired shots at the vehicle, seriously wounding Flores, who was rushed to the San Juan de Lurigancho Hospital, but was dead on arrival. Less than two weeks earlier, Freemuse published an article, part of Music Freedom Day, documenting how, throughout 2024, cumbia artists and their sub-genre chicha had been targeted by violence and organised crime, highlighting Armonía 10 as one of the groups affected. Sparked by Flores’ death, and under the slogan #NoQueremosMorir (#wedontwanttodie), on 21 March, artists, citizen collectives and representatives of various artistic and cultural unions marched from the Plaza San Martín to the Congress demanding concrete measures against crime. In response to public pressure, the government declared a state of emergency in Lima and Callao, authorising the deployment of the Armed Forces to support the police. However, violence against musicians is a latent problem. According to Colonel Jorge Carpio, head of the Kidnapping and Extortion Division of the Peruvian National Police, at least 15 orchestras have been threatened recently. Several criminal organizations are believed to be behind these acts, all with the same objective: to extort money from the artists and control their performances. Armonía 10’s manager, Agustín Távara, spoke in a television interview that the group had received threats both before and after the murder. Shortly after the crime, an individual who identified himself as ‘El Monstruo’, leader of the criminal gang ‘Los Injertos del Norte’, claimed responsibility for the attack and demanded the payment of 70,000 soles (approximately 20,000 dollars). He warned that if the money were not paid, another singer would be his next victim. This organisation is known for its extortion of orchestras and artists, demanding payments in exchange for “protection”, a practice that has become increasingly common in the Peruvian music scene. While the investigation continues, Armonía 10 has announced its return to the stage in honour of Flores. In a statement, the group thanked their fans for their support and asked for security guarantees for all the country’s artists. By Diana Arévalo
Palestinian Artist Dorgham Quraiqi Dies in Israeli Airstrike
In the early hours of 18 March, in Gaza City’s Shuja’iya neighbourhood, Dorgham Quraiqi’s life came to a sudden and tragic end. After a fragile two-month ceasefire, a barrage of deadly Israeli airstrikes killed Quraiqi, his wife, and his brothers.. He was just twenty-eight years old — a newlywed, an artist, and a tireless advocate for Gaza’s displaced children. Freemuse expresses its deep shock and sadness over Quraiqi’s death. For Quraiqi, art was more than an escape; it was resistance, renewal, and the language of survival — a language he wanted to pass on to countless children. Through his work with the Netherlands-based Hope Foundation, he transformed bleak corners of Gaza into pockets of joy, offering displaced children a brief respite from the trauma of war. He set up pop-up cinemas under the open sky, converted crumbling courtyards into swimming pools, and brought theatre to life with puppets and paint. His enthusiasm never wavered. Even as the world crumbled around him, Quraiqi remained committed to his purpose: giving Gaza’s children fleeting moments of relief through art and culture. As a self-taught visual artist, Quraiqi participated in numerous group exhibitions and worked with Hope, serving as one of the artists dedicated to bringing creativity to chaos. In Hope’s words: “Despite losing his home and facing countless challenges, Dorgham continued to bring smiles to thousands of displaced children (…) His energy and creativity were boundless. We have lost a wonderful and talented colleague.” Quraiqi’s final Instagram post, was both raw and predictive. It captured the pain of a young artist whose dreams had been buried under rubble: “After 15 months of displacement, I returned to Gaza to find myself confronted with an unimaginable and extremely difficult reality. My house and office had been completely destroyed by the Israeli army, and all the artworks I had been preparing for my first exhibition, ‘Until a Chair Grows Wings,’ had disappeared under the rubble. These works were more than just paintings; they were a part of my soul, fragments of dreams I had long wished to share with others. What happened was not merely the destruction of objects; it was an attempt to erase memory, culture, and humanity. But as they say: ‘Hope does not die unless the soul dies,’ and art is my soul that will never perish.” Quraiqi was young, hopeful, and fiercely creative, known especially for his oil-based paintings, which were widely exhibited in Gaza, as his social media posts reveal. He proudly declared that ‘art is my soul that will never perish.’ In the aftermath of his death, those words resonate more deeply. His loss is profound, not only to his family and friends but to a community that found solace, laughter, and creativity in his works. Dorgham Quraiqi is not alone in this tragic legacy. Since 2023, other artists have also lost their lives in Gaza: in October of that year, Heba Zagout and Muhammed Sami Qariqa were killed in airstrikes. In 2024, painter Fathi Ghaben died after Gaza’s healthcare system, crippled by repeated airstrikes, failed to provide the care he needed. One day, perhaps, their story will stand as a reminder of what it means to create under siege — and what it truly means to be an artist in a war zone.
Egyptian poet and lyricist, Galal El-Behairy enters eighth year in prison
For creators tackling politically charged, socially taboo, or religiously sensitive topics in Egypt, the cost is often persecution—or worse. Women and LGBTQ+ individuals face heightened legal and societal backlash. One prominent case is that of Galal El-Behairy, a poet and lyricist who has now been in prison for seven years. His case has been a long and convoluted one. His ordeal began when he was arrested at Cairo airport on 5 March 2018. He was initially charged with “joining a terrorist group”, “disseminating false news”, and “insulting the President” for lyrics he had written for the song Balaha, which was performed and disseminated online by exiled Egyptian singer Ramy Essam. Released a month earlier, in February 2018, the song criticises President Abdel-Fatah El-Sisi’s rule, saying “enough is enough”, and referring to Sisi by his derogatory nickname, “Balaha” referring to an Egyptian movie character known for being a compulsive liar. These charges were dropped, but in July 2018, a military court sentenced El-Behairy to three years in prison for his unpublished poetry collection, The Finest Women on Earth, which he had planned to publish later that year. The title of the book was reportedly interpreted by the prosecution as alluding to Egyptian soldiers, who are referred to in a hadith by Prophet Muhammad as “the finest soldiers on earth”. El-Behairy denied this interpretation, stating that the title recognised women’s positive role in society. “This title does not refer in any way whatsoever to the Egyptian soldiers,” he wrote in May 2018 “It is rather a recognition of the value of women and of their good deeds in this world. Every soldier, man, fighter, scientist, and inventor is the result of a mother’s education, a wife’s embrace and a daughter’s innocence.” El-Behairy completed his sentence in July 2021, yet more than three years later, he remains in prison on additional charges of “disseminating false information” and ”joining a terrorist organisation,” far exceeding the maximum two-year legal limit for detention without trial. He is reportedly in poor health, having undergone hunger strikes in 2023, a reported suicide attempt, and threats of torture. Most recently, there are concerns that he is being denied essential medical treatment. Freemuse condemns the continued detention of Galal El-Behairy as a violation of his rights to freedom of expression, and in contravention of Egyptian law. The longer he is held in prison, the greater are the concerns for his health. Galal El-Behairy must be released, immediately and unconditionally. Read Galal El-Behairy’s Letter from Tora Prison https://arablit.org/2018/06/09/poet-galal-el-behairys-letter-from-tora-prison/
Glory to Hong Kong – The Anthem of Resistance Lives On
In May 2024, the song, Glory to Hong Kong, which became the unofficial anthem for Hong Kong protestors, was banned. Composed at the height of protests calling for democratic reform and against police brutality – from mid-2019 up to the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic in early 2020 – the song was written by ThomasDGX, a composer working under a pseudonym to protect their identity. A collective effort, with input from many Hong Kongers who contributed to its lyrics and melody, the song was taken up and sung by crowds of protestors, broadcast across social media and news services in Hong Kong and abroad. The song’s lyrics are a call on Hongkongers to fight for freedom and stand up for their rights. It includes the slogan “Liberate Hong Kong, revolution of our times”, words deemed by the authorities to be a call for rebellion. The first attempt to ban the song was made in June 2023 when authorities launched proceedings at the Hong Kong Court of First Instance to prevent its “broadcasting, performing, printing, publishing, selling, offering for sale, distributing, disseminating, displaying or reproducing in any way.” It also called for the take down of YouTube videos of 32 versions of the protest song in several languages as well as instrumental versions. However, the Court ruled against the authorities saying that the ban would contradict criminal justice procedures and that international internet service providers could not be compelled to remove the song. Yet in May 2024 the Hong Kong High Court over-ruled the lower court’s decision. The presiding Judge stated that the song’s composer “intended it to be a ‘weapon’ and so it had become”. The song has been used, he said, as “an impetus to propel the violent protests plaguing Hong Kong since 2019 … arousing emotions among certain fractions of the society”. He added that it was necessary to persuade internet companies to remove “the problematic videos in connection with the song” from their platforms. Complying with the order, Google blocked access to the 32 YouTube videos, making them inaccessible within Hong Kong. However, they remain accessible outside the country. The song is often mistakenly played at international events when organisers search for a “Hong Kong anthem” to use during award ceremonies. Google refused to comply with the authorities’ demands to address this, saying that search results are generated algorithmically and cannot be adjusted manually. Similarly, videos and recordings remain available on Spotify and other music streaming platforms for international audiences. Today, “Glory to Hong Kong”, banned and inaccessible in Hong Kong, remains a powerful symbol of resistance and the struggle for democracy, providing hope and inspiration. ‘Black Blorchestra’ – masked musicians playing “Glory to Hong Kong” during protests in 2019 (Still from a YouTube video via Wikimedia) Listen to Protestors in Hong Kong singing ‘Glory to Hong Kong’ in shopping centres in 2019
Peruvian cumbia and chicha musicians caught in the crosshairs of organized crime
By Diana Arévalo Cumbia singers and groups and those of its sub-genre chicha in Peru, face increasing violence and insecurity as criminal groups in the country expand their influence. In 2024, the situation deteriorated significantly, and artists of these popular music genres were victims of multiple violations of their right to freedom of artistic and creative expression. These included threats, extortion, attacks on the vehicles in which they travelled during their inter-regional tours, and the theft of their instruments. Some were murdered. Cumbia arrived in Peru from Colombia in the 1960s and acquired its own identity when Peruvian groups fused with rock and roll and traditional rhythms from the coast, highlands and jungle, giving rise to Peruvian cumbia. Chicha emerged as an adaptation of Andean popular music to cumbia rhythms and consolidated itself as a sub-genre. This crisis of violence is part of a context of widespread insecurity across Peru. According to Human Rights Watch (HRW), in October 2024 the number of homicides in the country surpassed the total recorded in 2023, while reports of extortion increased fivefold between 2021 and 2023. Despite the government’s failed efforts to contain violence by declaring states of emergency, Peru’s National Police Intelligence Directorate reported that crime continued to rise in 2024. Extortion reached 19,432 cases, affecting various sectors of society, while contract killings registered 1,125 incidents, mainly linked to settling scores between gang groups and collecting bribes. In this climate of insecurity, cumbia and chicha groups and artists, genres of national and regional relevance, have been frequent targets of organised crime. On 25 May 2024, members of the well-known orchestra Agua Marinawere victims of an attack in the city of Lima, when an unknown gunman fired at least eight shots at the establishment where they were performing. Minutes later, a grenade exploded nearby, causing material damage and forcing the cancellation of the concert. Attacks against artists have also taken the form of direct threats and extortion. In June 2024, singer Azucena Calvay received death threats and extortion by criminals who demanded large sums of money to guarantee her safety during her scheduled performances as part of her national tour. In other cases, violence has reached extreme levels resulting in the murder of several artists. On 11 June 2024, the former lead singer of the group Los Claveles de la Cumbia, Jaime Carmona was shot dead while performing in a restaurant in Lima. His murder occurred in the middle of a performance and was recorded in a live broadcast on TikTok. Five months later, on 3 November 2024, the lead singer of the Hermanos Guerrero orchestra, Thalía Manrique Castillo, was murdered during a robbery of the bus in which she was travelling with her bandmates after a performance in the city of Bagua Grande, located in the Peruvian Amazon. The criminals also stole the band’s musical instruments. “You will always live in our hearts” Source: Hermanos Guerrero Facebook As if these events were not already a major obstacle for artists, organized crime has developed new strategies to sabotage their work and silence their expressions. In this scenario, death threats and violence have also forced the cancellation of concerts, such as on 15 November 2024, when the singer Pamela Franco received extortion calls demanding the payment of a sum of money in exchange for permission to perform at the Los Palitos sports field in Arequipa. Faced with the threat and prioritising the safety of her team, the artist cancelled her participation in the event. A month later, on 1 December 2024, the well-known group Armonía 10 suffered a similar attack in Callao, when a motorcyclist shot at the bus transporting the musicians to a performance. Days earlier, the group had received extortion messages demanding money to guarantee their safety during the event. Source: Facebook – Armonia10Official Cumbia and chicha have accompanied Peru’s modern history, giving voice to the joy, uprootedness and struggle of those who perform and listen to them. Today, however, the musicians who keep these musical genres alive face a growing wave of violence. The lack of security guarantees and the strengthening presence of organised crime have turned their profession into a high-risk occupation, forcing them to travel dangerous routes and exposing them to threats, extortion and even murder. On this Music Freedom Day 2025, Freemuse and Cartel Urbano call for international solidarity with these artists, who, despite the danger, continue performing and defending their right to express and share their music with the world. Links to the songs of these groups: Diana Arévalo monitors the Latin Americas region for Freemuse, and is a Researcher and multimedia producer for “Bulla” Radar on artistic freedom at the Cartel Urbano Foundation.
