In the U.S. "Banned Books Week" has existed since 1982 to commemorate books that someone tried to prevent the public, or students, from accessing in a particular place.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banned_Books_Week
This has almost always been metaphorical, because only a tiny minority of these cases involved someone trying to make a book illegal for everyone to possess or sell. You could accuse the ALA and the ABFFE of exaggeration, maybe rightly, in choosing the word "ban" (it seems like they early-on chose to clarify it as "banned and challenged"), but it has a fairly long history.
Edit: There's an interesting subtlety here where Banned Books Week has generally tended to assume that teachers and librarians, in particular, were well-equipped to make good judgments for their communities, while anyone who tried to pressure them to change their decisions (in the direction of less access) was engaged in something questionable. So if teachers chose not to teach a book, that wasn't usually called "banning", whereas if someone tried to get a school board or school principal to make teachers stop teaching a book, that was "banning". Likewise for librarians' decisions to make books available (or not). The most common formulation seemed to be that these professionals are entitled to a kind of academic freedom that gives them autonomy to make these decisions without second-guessing by others, and in particular that a teacher's or librarian's (or bookseller's) decision to make something available to an audience should be respected, while someone else's decision to prevent or discourage these professionals from doing so should be questioned or criticized.
Maybe because Banned Books Week and similar observances are mainly organized and promoted by associations of teachers, librarians, and booksellers, they seem to cast blame and scrutiny mainly outside of their own professions. :-)
In the 1980s and 1990s most of the challenges highlighted by these organizations came from the right, against books that featured sexual minorities, people questioning or mocking their religious upbringing, or children in intense or extreme situations. At the time, many booksellers, librarians, and teachers thought that these books were, at least sometimes, appropriate for children because it was a good thing for them to think about these topics, and not likely to harm them. I don't know what to anticipate from these professions now as they're confronted with a very different set of challenges to intellectual and cultural freedom.