Still Behind Bars: The Case of Mohammed al-Bejadi and Saudi Arabia’s Expanding Machinery of Repression

In Saudi Arabia, repression rarely ends when a prison sentence does. The case of Mohammed al-Bejadi, a prominent human rights defender and co-founder of the Saudi Civil and Political Rights Association (ACPRA), is a clear example. Despite completing his sentence in April 2023, al-Bejadi remains arbitrarily detained in Buraydah Prison—more than two years later. On 7 August 2025, a group of NGOs issued a joint statement calling for his immediate release and denouncing the broader pattern of post-sentence repression targeting peaceful critics in the Kingdom.

Al-Bejadi’s history of activism spans over 15 years. He was first detained in 2007 without charge, then again in 2011 for protesting outside the Ministry of Interior. During that protest, he famously declared: “All prisoners of conscience are my family.” His most recent arrest came in May 2018, during a wave of repression targeting women’s rights defenders. He was later sentenced to ten years in prison, with five suspended. According to ALQST, he has since been held incommunicado, denied legal access, and subjected to torture and ill-treatment—despite his sentence officially expiring more than 24 months ago.

Al-Bejadi is not the only prisoner in Saudi Arabia being held unlawfully past his term. Two other ACPRA members, Mohammed al-Qahtani and Essa al-Nukheifi, were also detained for more than two years beyond their sentences before being conditionally released earlier this year. Others—such as Israa al-Ghomgham and Mohammed al-Rabiah—have seen their sentences extended just as they neared release. As highlighted by the UN Special Rapporteur on Human Rights Defenders, Mary Lawlor, this trend reflects a disturbing strategy: transform fixed prison terms into indefinite punishment to create fear and eliminate dissent.

Even for those who are released, freedom remains largely illusory. Dozens of prisoners of conscience released between December 2024 and February 2025 are now living under suffocating restrictions, including travel bans, gag orders, and electronic surveillance. According to Sanad Human Rights Organization, many are forced to wear ankle monitors, forbidden from receiving visitors, and even barred from attending family events. Financial restrictions also apply—some are prohibited from withdrawing more than 40,000 Saudi riyals per transaction or face daily limits that cripple their economic independence.

The ECDHR has also documented cases in which entire families are punished for advocating on behalf of detained relatives. In the case of Sulaiman al-Dowaish, forcibly disappeared since 2018, all three of his sons have been arrested—one of whom remains behind bars despite completing his sentence. This is not the exception but a systematic policy: punish not only the prisoner, but those who speak for them. As ADHRB has detailed, these post-release restrictions often violate both domestic and international law. Article 6 of Saudi Arabia’s own Travel Document Law permits travel bans only for limited security reasons and time periods, while Article 27 of the Arab Charter on Human Rights prohibits arbitrary restrictions on movement. In practice, these legal safeguards are routinely ignored. Prominent figures like Loujain al-Hathloul continue to face indefinite travel bans, even after court filings, appeals, and prolonged legal battles.

All of this takes place under the shadow of ongoing brutality. In the first half of 2025 alone, Saudi Arabia executed 180 people—more than double the number recorded during the same period in 2024. As these numbers rise, so does the risk to those still behind bars, including peaceful activists who have already served their sentences.

The continued detention of Mohammed al-Bejadi is not an administrative oversight—it is a calculated act of repression. If Saudi Arabia seeks credibility on the international stage, it must begin by releasing those it holds unlawfully and dismantling the web of restrictions that continue to punish them after prison. Without genuine accountability and an end to this cycle of silent punishment, no gesture of reform can be taken seriously.