In response, Bashir blocked the internet — or rather, social media, the part of the internet that dictators believe “start” revolutions. From then until February, it was nearly impossible to access Twitter, Facebook, or WhatsApp unless you had a Virtual Private Network (VPN). The block was described around the world as an internet “blackout,” but it was more like the start of a cat-and-mouse game, an online version of the taunting and harassment his security services were inflicting on people in restive residential neighborhoods...

A week after the shutdown, Hassan lost patience with waiting. So he put his incongruous faith in the law to the test and sued Zain, his cell phone provider. He argued that Zain had unlawfully reneged on the terms of its contract with him. Hassan had promised to pay his bill each month, and Zain had promised, unconditionally, to give him internet access. In Hassan’s view, Zain had committed a violation — not of free speech or of digital rights but of its own terms of service. Even in heady times of revolution, the workings of democracy can be banal...

It’s hard to overstate the incongruity — the absurdity, even — of arguing the finer points of contract law in the wake of a civilian massacre, before a judge who answers to an unaccountable military regime. And yet, there’s nowhere but local courts to turn to when the government takes away the internet. There’s no international treaty protecting internet access, no global legal body that sanctions a rogue government or cellular provider. There’s just a guy like Hassan and his rather niggling complaint that someone didn’t live up to their end of a deal. 

And improbably, it worked. The court ordered Zain to give him back his internet, and, on June 23, it did. But Hassan was just one plaintiff, suing on behalf of only himself, so the court and the cell phone company took a narrow course of action: Ignoring the millions of other customers Zain served, the court switched mobile internet back on … for him...