Freedom of speech requires people to take risks. It is in the nature of governments to want to control opposition and reduce it where possible. Even democratic states employ armies of people in their press offices, whose job it is to make the government look good and to push out propaganda for those in power.
Naturally, it is not phrased that way and such titles as Minister for Propaganda and the more euphemistic British version, Ministry of Information, are now out of fashion. Nonetheless, the British government press offices pump out apparently positive stories for whomsoever happens to be the government of the day. The same happens in the United States, where the press office of the President is totally partisan.
Similarly, as well as wanting to present good news, governments also want to cover up bad news, either by simply not telling people, or by an effort to control information by surreptitious means. They try to stop reporting of negative stories on the grounds that they are false or risk national security. In many cases, neither claim is true.
Against this background, free speech is a fairly weedy contender. Those who believe in speaking out do not have unlimited taxpayer money behind them, nor the patronage that belongs to a national government. They also, in some cases, have to risk arrest or financial ruin.
When I addressed a dinner recently for the Free Speech Union, a wonderful organisation that deserves support, I talked about Peter Wentworth. He was a 16th century Member of Parliament, who was, with the possible exception of St. Thomas More, the first MP to demand the right of freedom of speech in the Commons.
He wanted to discuss the question of Queen Elizabeth’s marriage, while the Queen was insistent that this was exclusively a matter for her prerogative. When he tried to do so, his speech was interrupted and he was taken to the Tower of London. He was held there for some time, but was eventually forgiven and returned to Parliament again. He suffered for his advocacy of free speech, but the right he demanded was established in law in the 17th century, as the Commons became increasingly strident in its demands.
In the 18th century, John Wilkes, also a Member of Parliament, was taken through the courts, convicted of seditious libel and expelled from the Commons for his criticisms of the King and his Ministers, in a publication called The North Briton. He was not a particularly worthy individual and makes an odd hero, but, because the voters kept on returning him to the Commons, eventually the government relented and he became a poster boy for freedom of speech, and prosecutions for seditious libel, which were an effective means of censorship, became much harder to carry through.
These historic examples made great advances for freedom of speech, but the battle is never won. As I write, people are being persecuted in England for silent prayer. Their freedom of speech is not even vocalised, yet they are rounded up by the police and face penalties for thought crimes.
