The concept of freedom of speech carries a lot of cultural baggage. It is perceived variously as a fundamental right of liberal democracies to an unwelcome Western import. Singaporean theologian Roland Chia argues that freedom of speech is crucial for an open society and a “discursive form of democracy”, but also that:
…if truth is really taken seriously, certain kinds of freedom must be checked. This must be done in the interest of truth, but also in the interest of society because falsehoods, unlike truth, can be and often are harmful to the community.
Before continuing, I wish to clarify a few points. Firstly, my response to Chia’s article is an invitation to conversation. If we are to embrace the discursive democracy Chia rightly speaks of, then it is not about what stand we take, but how we listen to those we disagree with. My article’s intent is not so much to critique, but to offer points of consideration to open up new spaces of conversational geography.
Secondly, I wish to be very careful on threading this topic. This is not for fear of censorship, but for fear of the integrity of Christian faith when traversing the porous boundaries of faith and politics. Freedom of speech can be fundamentally subsumed as one facet of individual freedom, a key doctrine of liberal thought. Liberalism, in turn, has arguably Christian roots. However, liberalism has also detached itself from its religious provenance, and hence it is both heir-to and critic-of the Christian faith. Christians therefore can reasonably have a range of perspectives on liberal thought. Chia, by writing in the National Council of Church of Singapore’s premiere publication, raises questions about this porous boundary: is he offering a Christian perspective on free speech, or the Christian perspective on free speech?
Should Truth Limit Freedom of Speech?
According to Chia, the limits of free speech lies with false and slanderous speech. The immediate issue here is one of practicality: truth may be objective but our epistemic faculties are not. All truth is filtered through an interpretative lens. It must be arrived at through our necessarily biased cognition. For instance, the various church traditions and denominations have different hermeneutics in approaching Scriptures, and hence different conclusions. How then do we arbitrate between falsehood and truth?
A corollary from this is that truth can is arrived at through human agency. This raises the second issue: who gets to define truth? One option would be to assign a social institution, such as a scientific body or the State to define truth. Further questions then arise: how can we know if these institutions are telling us the truth? How much power should be given to them to enforce these truths? Are there independent bodies to hold these institutions to account? For example, I’ve written briefly on how the State negatively influenced the doctrinal development of the early Church. Given that Christians affirm the axiom of sin being a universal taint upon all humanity, it would be very peculiar indeed for us to give too much trust to any institution for the definition of truth.
Freedom of Speech as Tolerance
Chia quotes the liberal thinker John Stuart Mill in arguing that free speech is compelled by the pursuit of truth, and that truth both liberates and restrains freedom of speech. Even if true, this is only one dimension of the liberal impulse towards free speech.
Free speech is fundamentally an extension of the principle of tolerance, and it is tolerance that ensures stability. The great political thinker Thomas Hobbes lived through the religious turmoil and intolerance of the English Civil War, part of the wider conflict between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism at the time. He observed that while religious beliefs claim universal reach, they do not have universal consensus. What is universal, however, is the fear of violent death:
No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. (Leviathan (1651) pt. 1, ch. 13)
For Hobbes, It is this universal fear of violent death that compels humanity towards peace. Although the intricacies of Hobbes’ political theory is debated, many scholars consider Hobbesian thought to be one of the precursors of modern liberal thought. Francis Fukuyama, in his book Liberalism and its Discontents, argued that Hobbes’ liberal insight was to recognize that conflict arising from religious intolerance – universal truth claims lacking societal consensus – led to instability. Instability is thus not caused by falsehood but by intolerance of diverse viewpoints.
It is this last point which I urge Asian theologians to ponder upon. There is an increasing sentiment among some Asians that political freedoms such as free speech lead to instability. Yet, historic reality reveals a reverse truth: free speech that works in conjunction with societal tolerance, will create a freedom from instability. The choice is therefore between two forms of stability: one through repression, and another through education. The former stability depends on restricting free speech to protect the cherished beliefs of a group. The latter stability places responsibility on listeners to not resort to violence if their beliefs – no matter how vaunted – are put to the docks.
Neither are perfect solutions. Stability from restraining speech ultimately requires force, and could potentially allow certain institutions (e.g. the Church) from preventing accountability via silencing the speech of its critics. Stability through educating tolerant attitudes is ultimately a liberal – and I dare argue, a Confucian – impulse. While theoretically ideal, it is hard to achieve. Furthermore, this latter ideal may be viewed as incompatible with certain worldviews, such as Islam, which holds its key beliefs and sacred texts as sacrosanct; the line between reasonable critique and insult is therefore a thin veil for these worldviews. A Christian can reasonably hold either view of stability, but we should be cautious of presenting one view as ‘Christian’ and another as not. After all, Christians can be compelled by their faith towards a certain political position, but it crosses a line when we proclaim a certain political perspective the Christian one. Thou shalt not render unto Caesar what is God’s.
Freedom of Speech as Dignity
Perhaps one of the biggest missed opportunities in Fukuyama’s book is his defining of freedom as dignity. Freedom of speech presupposes freedom of thought: the primordial freedom which allows all other freedoms (religious freedom, freedom of association, freedom of conscience) to emerge from. Since individual thought is a trait unique to the human species, to restrict it is to limit dignity for human beings.
Contemporary detractors of liberal notions of freedom can be found among some Asians and Christians (Dr. Chia happens to be both). Yet, if we accept Fukuyama’s argument, liberal ideals are not alien to both either Asian culture or Christian faith. For instance, in East Asian culture, the concept of ‘face’ (面子) is in essence, one of dignity. If individual freedoms such as free speech confers dignity, then it is a virtue consistent with so-called Asian values.
Similarly, the concept of Imago Dei in Christianity speaks of a basic dignity that all of us are conferred merely by virtue of our humanity. By allowing freedom of speech, we are respecting the intellectual freedom that God endowed us with. While it is true that allowing such freedom also means a diversity of beliefs, many of which may be false, it is not necessarily a bad thing.
Richard Holloway, from his lecture What is the Use of the Church at Gresham College, points out:
…the impulse behind the formation of the inclusivity of church is the human search for truth. In spite of our occasional irritation with the fact, it remains the case that truth is rarely simple and seldom obvious. This is why mature institutions recognise the importance of conflict and disagreement in their search for truth, or the compromises that are ofien as close as we get to it. (p.3)
The Freedom to Listen
I’d like to offer a final thought on the free speech debate. Much of it focuses on the extent and limits on the speaker, but little is said of those listening. Freedom of speech fundamentally presupposes the ability and willingness to listen, for without listeners, speech is useless. Freedom of speech is therefore an individual right that requires community. It is the task of the community to extend a willing ear towards those disagreeable, and not resort to violence or coercion when differences arise.
I’d also suggest that being able to listen is a form of freedom too. Censorship works both ways: it does not merely remove dignity for the speaker but also for the listener. The indignity arises from the assumption that the listener lacks the necessary faculties of discernment, and hence requires a third, more powerful institution to arbitrate and choose for listeners the range and limits of heard speech. The result would be a society of ‘forever children’ never growing in discernment across time. Degrading free speech will correspond to a degradation in our ability and willingness to listen to each other, hence creating a more intolerant society.
In fairness, I am not advocating for unlimited speech. For instance, the UK rightly prosecutes terroristic speech. Likewise, the line between fair criticism of a religious institution and blasphemy towards a faith is not always an easy one to draw, and for pragmatic purposes, the State can choose to curtail speech to ensure peace. Regardless of our stance, Christians should exercise caution in posturing any one view of free speech as ‘the’ Christian one. Perhaps there is no such thing.
The Stranger Beyond the Gate 