The idea of ‘free speech’ has always been tricky territory. It is often understood as a person’s ‘natural right.’ It is exalted as an important plank of democracy and a vital component of discourses and dialogues if they are to remain meaningful and constructive. Yet, this idea is not exactly as wholesome and noble as it is made out to be. Truth is, for over three centuries now, it has largely remained controversial, contradictory and paradoxical. 

No one seems to be able to come to terms with it, including those who eulogise it and passionately propagate it. They are often, well, left speechless, when words manage to create serious disruption and violence in society. 

Nowhere is this conundrum more pronounced than in courts across the world where, for decades, judges have toiled to define and/or convincingly interpret constitutional articles that guarantee free speech. What kind of speech is okay and what kind is not, or what does the word ‘free’ really mean in the term ‘free speech?’ History is full of episodes in which judges, even in established democracies, have struggled to answer these questions. 

The British cultural historian Joe Moran understands free speech as an “elastic concept.” Writing in The Guardian, Moran gave the example of this elasticity by pointing out the manner in which right wing populist leaders in the United States are lamenting the death of free speech in the Western world but, at the same time, going all out to curb speech coming from the left and/or the liberal-left. 

The concept of ‘free speech’ is celebrated as a cornerstone of democracy, yet history shows that it has always been controversial, contradictory and weaponised by different groups for their own ends

Actually, the same can be said about the other side as well. It too champions free speech, but as one often saw on various university campuses in the US in the 2010s, left/liberal students did not allow certain invited speakers to present their views because they (the speakers) were apparently ‘racist’, ‘sexist’ and even ‘fascist’. It seems speech is what one agrees with. That which one doesn’t agree with needs to be policed and shut down. 

The American historian Fara Dabhoiwala calls free speech and all the rhetoric around it, a “weaponised mantra.” In his recent book What is Free Speech? History of a Dangerous Idea, Dabhoiwala adopts the role of an iconoclast when he falls upon one the most sacred amendments of the American Constitution — the First Amendment — which, in no uncertain terms, provides freedom of speech, press, religion and assembly. 

He writes, “Nowadays, American Nazis, anti-Semites, racists and other spreaders of group hatred shelter behind the first amendment. American media companies proudly follow the same principles, and export them around the globe...” 

This critique suggests that the first amendment was not properly defined by America’s founders, nor by the US Supreme Court, even though the latter has dealt with 72 cases on the subject of free speech since 1919. 

Between 1969 and 2007, the US Supreme Court did formulate what free speech was not: to incite imminent lawless action, to make or distribute obscene materials etc. Yet, confusion and vagueness still lie at the heart of the first amendment and it is often successfully exploited by extreme groups from all sides. 

In his book, Dabhoiwala demonstrates that when the idea of free speech began to be romanticised (from the 18th century onwards) as the bedrock of enlightened societies, curbs around it came into play almost immediately. They were bound to. 

For example, according to Moran, in colonial India, free speech and press liberty were viewed as tools of enlightenment, bestowed by the British. But since ‘communal tensions’ began becoming a thing in 19th century India, a series of laws and practices were introduced to maintain government control over all printed materials. Specific laws against defamation and religious insult were also introduced. 

To both Moran and Dabhoiwala, free speech was always a complex and compromised ideal. Dabhoiwala makes a case for the latter. He writes, “Since it was first coined, 300 years ago, free speech has been a perennially weaponised slogan, wielded as often by the powerful against the weak as by the weak against the strong.”

I can’t see how this observation can be convincingly negated, especially in an age in which social media platforms have been unleashing havoc in the name of free speech. Yet, Dabhoiwala’s arguments in this context have attracted outright scorn from the right and nose-thumbing from the postmodernist left, as both continue to wave their fists while spouting and typing irresponsible words that have, on numerous occasions, led to mental anguish and physical acts of violence. 

Words can harm as much as sticks and stones do. And they need to be held accountable if they cause disruption, anguish and violence. One cannot simply get away by calling such words free speech. But whereas laws that can regulate speech, or at least rationally, clearly and pragmatically define what free speech constitutes, should be welcomed, but sometimes such laws also become weaponised. 

Take the example of the harsh laws in Pakistan that were introduced in the 1980s to discourage and quash troubling sectarian and sub-sectarian polemics. Within a few years, these laws became weapons, not in the hands of the state, but in the hands of people who often use them to settle scores with and demonise the sectarian or religious ‘other’, by getting them thrown in jail or attacked by mad mobs. 

In this case, a certain kind of speech was curbed, but the law that curbs it, became equally problematic. 

Nevertheless, free speech is a shapeless idea. It should come with clearly defined lines and boundaries. But either these boundaries are only vaguely sketched because those sketching them fear that they might undermine democracy or, in some cases, even when boundaries are firmly sketched, they end up benefitting the interests of particular communities at the expense of others. 

Now more than ever, the idea of free speech needs to be debated more robustly if it is to stop being the unhinged paradox that it really is.

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 6th, 2025