On freedom of speech
And on that to silence opposition
Chartist meeting, 1848.
There’s one place in the whole wide world, I was told as a boy, where you can go and say whatever you want, without restriction or compunction. That is Speakers’ Corner. It’s at the north-eastern end of Hyde Park, the largest public green space in London. It has been so for aeons. Since exactly when, I don’t know, so I went and looked it up for you.
And found that there is no date that can be said to mark the inception of Speakers’ Corner in London, though 2000 was the date marking the start of Speakers’ Corner in Singapore. There are speakers’ corners dotted all across the world, in fact, and the earliest reference I could find to that in London was that it was used by Chartists after the movement was founded in 1838.
How free is the freedom of speech? The test of the freedom is in the extent to which a response of “Why?” followed by a cogent explanation, can be given within your given jurisdiction to the command: “Do as you’re told.” If there is no right to ask the “Why?” and, what’s more, no cogent explanation, then your freedom is non-existent.
The Chartists were a short-lived revolutionary force, named for the People’s Charter of 1837 and powered mostly by argument, strikes and a little firepower, many of whose members ended up dead, deluded or transported to Australia for the sheer temerity of demanding six tenets that would ultimately be actually granted (the first five at any rate) and which, when one looks at the demands as formulated, beggar belief that the whole movement was even necessary. But those were the 1830s and 40s, when power meant something.
Which, of course, it does today as well. For the same tenets, if now viewed in the light of everything that is supposedly wrong with today’s world, would suggest themselves to any new Chartist movement that might wish to take up the struggle of their forefathers 200 years ago, with hardly a change to their manifesto.
The six demands of the Chartists were:
1. Anyone aged 21 or over who is compos mentis and not in prison should be able to vote
This is not so very much in contention these days, and in fact the voting age has been reduced to 18 and, in some cases, to 16. A cogent argument has been made to reduce the voting age to six, and I commend it to your reading. It is no joke.
However, the prohibition against prisoners and the mentally disabled was retained just as the Chartists had reasonably formulated it. The prime objection to prisoners exercising a right of vote is not in fact that they might vote in a perverse manner and back candidates who would seek to reduce sentences for bank robbery or facilitate the trade in cocaine, since few if any political parties tend to endorse such policy measures. No, the main objection is getting them to the polling station to exercise their vote or transporting their votes, if cast at their institution, and ensuring the votes would be counted without interference. It’s all a lot of bother and, although I’m not sure what the objection would be to a postal vote, the general view is that those who are incarcerated owe a debt to society and ought not therefore to have a say in its political institutions. It’s one aspect not yet integrated within reintegration.
Which is interesting, given that America is currently toying with the notion that Mr Trump’s indictments may be the best advertising he ever had, thus ensuring an easy run back to the White House for him. For, although prisoners cannot vote even there, they can stand for election, and that is only right and proper: otherwise how easy it would be to switch out political opponents by imprisoning them under a regime of oppression and smothered opposition, which, admittedly works pretty admirably in Myanmar. However, the Chartists’ prime concern was not prisoners of any kind, other than such of their number as ended up there; it was everyone else, including the unlanded classes and women.
Sorry, did I say women? No, not them. Only men. Only so much progressivism can be stomached in one century. The irony is that the Chartists were seen as dangerous republican seditionists and, today, with their claim of votes for men, would be seen as unrelentingly chauvinist blockheads. Which goes to show that glasses can be at the half-level mark and still be full or empty, as one chooses.
Yet, today, there are many who point to moves to gerrymander voting districts; not just in Georgia (the one less under Mr Putin’s influence), but also, to a lesser extent, in the constituencies of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (which adhere far more to a numerical standard for determining who is in which ward, being a population of 69,724 (68,313 in Northern Ireland) to 77,062, unless the constituency is one of the five protected ones).
Illustrated is (in red) the current parliamentary constituency of Pudsey, where I used to live and which is set to be consigned to history, and become Leeds East & Pudsey. There are no serious accusations, unlike in America, where political involvement in setting district boundaries is much greater, that the UK boundaries commissions have in any way failed in their honest duty. Their task remains to keep the population of all non-protected constituencies within the upper and lower limits stated. When I was a youngster, an MP represented broadly 60,000 people, but now each represents more in the region of 75,000, and that’s quite a jump, even with rejection of the proposal to reduce the number of seats in parliament to 600, rather than the current 650. What if a map of the UK were simply overlaid with a grid in which 650 squares divided the country into the same number of equal areas – would that not work just as well, and do away with oddly shaped areas, like Pudsey, here?
The concern is, of course, that some areas would be vastly over-represented, and others, with large populations, under-represented. The likelihood is slim, but what if one area had no one at all living in it: who would vote for its member, or would it simply not have one?
The question is not so daft, for gerrymandering is indeed a feasible means to secure parliamentary seats, and the boundaries that get drawn in the US, with numerous parts that are not even contiguous, can make Pudsey look like a regular polygon. But how much gerrymandering is put into practice not by redrawing boundaries but by people physically moving to another parliamentary constituency? There have been cases where such a policy has been pursued; and the Flemish constituency that borders a large stretch of the 19 bilingual boroughs of the Belgian capital, named Halle-Vilvoorde, has been subjected to criticism by Dutch-speakers of French-speakers who move to the rural suburbs, and thus the Dutch-language area, and de facto render these areas French-speaking, since the incomers can naturally choose what language they speak in their personal dealings, and that is often French. Language is politics in Belgium and, just occasionally, the Flemish, who had to fight hard till, in 1969, they gained the right to speak their own language in their own part of the country, can sometimes forget that it didn’t give them the right to force everyone else to do the same.
In 2023, it’s less the right for every adult to have the right to vote that is of concern to voters; it’s what their representatives do once they’ve been elected.
Whereas, before the Chartists’ demands finally saw enactment, parliament would say people should trust them as landed gentlemen to do the right thing, that got changed to a belief that not only should right be done, but it should be seen to be done. But, from there, one arrives at right simply being seen to be done, but not actually being done. Ultimately one arrives at the point where right is neither done not seen to be done and he who ought to be doing right cocks a snoot at the whole shebang and does as he pleases. Nowhere in particular.
2. Secret ballots
There were plenty of secret ballots around at the time of the Chartists; except the Chartists had no vote in these secret ballots, which were usually on something like whether to go first for Kiribati or Rhodesia.
The Chartists meant ballots that people knew about, but in which no one knew (for sure) how one had voted.
3. The Chartists wanted the property qualification for being a member of parliament done away with
The property qualification started from the early 18th century (actually, before the Norman Invasion) and did eventually get done away with, albeit long after the Chartists were in their graves: not until 1918. And, in fact, for Northern Ireland, not until 1969. Once one has settled from the shock of that snippet, the question, formal if not unfair, needs to be asked: did the property qualification fulfil the purpose it was supposed to procure?
And, before that can be answered, one must enquire what purpose the property qualification was supposed to procure. I don’t know what it was supposed to procure, other than the wrath of the Chartists, but what it did procure was Whigs and Tories doing some kind of career-long pole-dance, clambering up a column that Disraeli said was greasy. What I suspect it was intended to procure was sage government by individuals who owned property and therefore knew better than ordinary non-property-owners how to administer property, such as the country’s property. This clearly led to the subtly ingenious policy of pointing guns at the rest of the world and conquering it to build an empire, which is property in spades, and get the people who have no vote, because they’re unable to manage property, to take up guns and head off to sweltering climes to defend the thus acquired property. But precisely what it was intended to procure, aside from the likes of Kiribati and Rhodesia, escapes me.
In the article in the Independent (on whether indictments make Mr Trump’s life easier; here), TheGuardianoftheArk says this of D. Trump: “Trump is no politician; he is a businessman … On the 8th of November, 2016, he made a hostile, if fraudulent and morally-nauseating, take-over bid for United States Inc., the bid was successful and he became the rightful owner of that piece of real estate – the contiguous piece of land known as United States of America. One can then understand his ire and resort to threats, violence and insurrection when, four years later, his lawful property was yanked from him.”
Like yanking a parliamentary seat from a property-owner, n’est-ce pas? Pfft, property-owners.
4. Salaries for MPs
This is an interesting one: the revolutionary Chartists wanted salaries brought in for MPs, and the MPs said, “Not on your Nelly,” which is a bit like the vicar declining a second cup of tea. Of course, with such weighty matters as empire-building on their minds, the then MPs spared not a thought for their own recompense whilst actively engaged in matters of state. Their reward would come later, after the non-voters had duly followed orders and conquered Kiribati. The mere idea that an MP would sully their hands with such demeaning currency as filthy lucre! – Who on earth did these Chartists take themselves for? Pfft, tradespeople.
5. Equal constituencies
Another interesting one. Parliamentary elections are an exercise in averaging out, even if you use the Sainte-Laguë method. The major objection in terms of constituencies, which I’ve dwelt upon for a while above, is not really, in 1838, the size of the constituency compared to Pudsey, but rather who the land-owners in Pudsey are who are voting for Pudsey’s MP and slipping him some rather splendid dinner engagements as an advance thank-you for remembering Pudsey’s favourite muck-spreader (of phosphate fertilisers) when the annexation of Kiribati is next up for debate. Far more interesting is perhaps the fact that the Chartist himself is not on the ballot. And can’t vote even if he was. But, the Chartists rightly thought that a constituency with no inhabitants and returning two MPs to parliament was probably not representative, even if Old Sarum had been abolished in 1832.
6. Annual parliamentary elections as a hurdle to bribery and intimidation
The logic was that, by electing a new government every year (as they do with Junior Chamber of Commerce committees), no one could buy themselves a government, it would simply be too expensive.
This sixth and last demand has never been implemented in Britain (other than at Junior Chambers of Commerce), presumably for the reason that it manifestly shows that the Chartists hadn’t the first idea about how government works: the pay-outs are not made upon entry into office, perhaps that’s what they were missing.
The fact that five of these six demands are now viewed as only natural is perhaps a signal lesson in how normal revolution can be, just not at the time. And how abnormal normality can be when reflected on after the time at which it was normal, but not normal. The absence of enactment of the sixth is proof positive that politics is not, nor ever has been, corrupt.
But freedom of speech, what is that? The freedom to say whatever you want, even if it is to invoke violence? That’s a condition for Speaker’s Corner: you must not incite violence. But Maximilien Robespierre showed that freedom is a double-edged sword. When the Chartists were inciting their eminently unreasonable followers to support their eminently reasonable Charter of demands, the year was 44 years, almost to the day, since the execution of Robespierre. This French lawyer and great accuser of the Revolution of France had similarly presented a list of demands, albeit not in charter form: for men to be accorded a political voice and have unrestricted admission to the National Guard, to public offices, and to the commissioned ranks of the army, to have the right to petition and the right to bear arms in self defence, to establish equality before the law, abolish prerogatives, and defend the principles of direct democracy.
In 1842, a petition, such as Robespierre would have favoured, was signed and presented to the UK parliament and dismissed, without being heeded. The Northern Echo newspaper reported on the petition’s rejection as follows:
Three and a half million have quietly, orderly, soberly, peaceably but firmly asked of their rulers to do justice; and their rulers have turned a deaf ear to that protest. Three and a half millions of people have asked permission to detail their wrongs, and enforce their claims for RIGHT, and the ‘House’ has resolved they should not be heard! Three and a half millions of the slave-class have holden out the olive branch of peace to the enfranchised and privileged classes and sought for a firm and compact union, on the principle of EQUALITY BEFORE THE LAW; and the enfranchised and privileged have refused to enter into a treaty! The same class is to be a slave class still. The mark and brand of inferiority are not to be removed. The assumption of inferiority is still to be maintained. The people are not to be free.
No, not free, but alive. Isn’t that the quid pro quo for doing as you’re told?
Maximilien Robespierre and the Chartists didn’t then, but TheGuardianoftheArk, the Independent newspaper, the Northern Echo, if it’s still going, all now operate under a freedom of speech, and one of the first challenges I ever encountered to it was as a boy at school when the class was confronted with a conundrum: is it freedom of speech to prevent Nazis from speaking favourably about their political beliefs?
And that is a difficult question to answer, if only because it contains the word but: you are free, but …
Few freedoms are unrestrained. I’d venture that none is. But what Mr Musk has sought to do in the world of his X website is not to ensure a prevalence of right-wing, intolerant, racist, whatever diatribes, but much rather to encourage a place where that kind of view is not rejected out of hand for being that kind of view. And that is something that is not even offered at London’s Speakers’ Corner. Why should it be that those who confront the views expressed on X as being distasteful end up condemning the management of the website, rather than the author of the remarks, and calling Mr Musk a Silicon Valley bully instead of casting him in the light of François-Marie Arouet, known better as Voltaire, who wrote extensively in his Traité sur la tolérance such that lends comfort to the misattribution to him of the famous “I will defend to the death your right to say what I disagree with.”
Why, after all, would one not defend to the death the right of one’s opponent in argument to state his argument? Because it is steeped in polemic? Because it is crude of expression, or tainted with profanity? Rap and its related styles of musical expression are also tainted in profanity and this comes not from the ether but from frustration and embitterment, not at endeavour to climb a greasy pole such as Disraeli’s, but to right social wrongs that go elsewhere unnoticed. And yet such anger is turned as King’s evidence at the trials of those accused of gang membership by dint simply, by the evidence of prosecutors in support of their own prosecution, of having written their lyric.
I know that Mr Ahmed is trying to combat online hatred: so much we are told by the name of his organisation – Center for Countering Digital Hate US/UK. However, we are already seeing the consequences of a holier-than-thou approach to truth and the exclusively truthful nature of just the virtuous side of the story. I am also keen to combat hatred, but it is not combatable, for it is visceral in its origin. The only way to combat hatred is to combat the utterances of hatred, and, for that, one must fall back on one’s skills as an orator, and not simply gag the opponent, let alone the publisher.
For that is exercise of the freedom of speech with the aim of denying another’s freedom of speech and is ... a lot of things that freedom of speech isn’t.
Image: the Great Chartist Meeting on Kennington Common, London in 1848, by William Edward Kilburn (1818-1891). Public domain. The author died in 1891, so this work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 100 years or fewer.