In defence of free speech

Freedom of expression is such a simple, clear concept that it has been summed up in less than 25 words: "I disapprove of what you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it," a sentence commonly (and mistakenly) attributed to French philosopher Voltaire, although the concept is much older and predates modernity.

You would think this pithy summation would be one first learnt at the cradle. In Malta, apparently, you would be wrong.

I wish to lay my cards on the table at the outset. This is an essay in defence of freedom of expression. My agenda, such as it is, is that of a writer and the right to freedom of expression is my bread and butter.

The spark has been the University of Malta's decision to ban a student newspaper for publishing a short story considered by some as obscene, the latest misguided attempt by the authorities to jostle for the lead role in Father Knows Best.

The ensuing debate has been a sad reminder that in Malta the basics cannot be taken for granted. Picture the scene: You overhear a conversation or read a text and your first reaction, the kneejerk, is distaste. Your brain, or your gut, depending which organ you like to exercise, asks some or all of the following questions in quick succession.

Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it worthy? Is it good? Is it legal? Is it appropriate? Is it in good taste? How do I make it go away? Does it matter?

Truth is a tricky test because it is subjective and relative. But the idea of truth as the test of defamation is reasonably simple. If I were to write "John stole a car", then I had better hope I can prove it because I am compromising his reputation by claiming he has committed a crime. If, for example, John has just been sentenced to two years in prison for stealing a car, I can feel fairly certain that he has no grounds for libel. The test of truth in fiction (it strikes me, as I write, how paradoxical it sounds) is irrelevant. That is why it is fiction. Alex Vella Gera fleshed out a male character, unnamed and unidentified, and, importantly, a figment of his imagination, to make a statement about patriarchy, male sexual domination, vulgarity, ignorance, power relationships and probably many other aspects of life in our society that become more and more apparent with each reading of the text.

A lot of very reasonable people found the language distasteful. Because it is. I read the story and, horror of horrors, I can confirm it is written in bad language. And it is sexually explicit. And a first person narrative, which makes the language quite relentless and, all in all, as difficult a piece to read as I imagine it was to write. But maybe not as difficult as it is to live in a society where women are expected to ignore male posturing even if delivered with relish and within earshot.

I would like to think that the right language and tone was an essential requirement to the craft of giving the male character an identity, which is wrapped up in boastful, self-serving, explicit descriptions of his sexual exploits. But what I think is of no consequence. The beauty of freedom of expression is that it does not require corroboration or collaboration. That is why it is free.

The third line of attack has been the issue of whether the story has any literary merit. But there really is no requirement for this short story to be some great work of literature. When it comes to freedom of expression, it is not only the great and the good that merit protection, so do the silly, the mundane, the objectionable, the uncomfortable, the offensive, the pornographic, the misguided, the wild, the boring, the unfinished and the tasteless.

This is the nature of a human right; it is guaranteed to all; it is at once universal, indivisible and inalienable. It is not discriminatory because it makes us all equal and it is not flexible and, as such, gives us dignity. To deny this right to one person is to deny it to all of us.

A lot of people have sat in moral judgment. But the author is not his character. It requires some detachment to be able to look dispassionately at the traits of a particular character "type" and imagine the behaviour, the language, the reaction.

If there is going to be censure, let it be of the type of man represented by the character in the story and not of the author. Also, I have read that the story is degrading to women. I am a woman and I do not feel degraded by the story but by the behaviour of the male specimen X, so capably sketched by the writer.

Mr Vella Gera has attempted to throw a spotlight on the kind of behaviour that objectifies women. It pains me to have to emphasise, again and again, the distinction between author and character and to have to come to terms with the fact that the real debate (on the way some men still treat women) is being lost in the furore caused by the University rector's ill-advised actions.

Maltese jurisprudence going as far back as the 1960s has already declared illegal the withdrawal of a publication from circulation because such a ban violates the right to freedom of expression. And a ban is definitely out of proportion to the imagined offence. Although there are limits to freedom of expression, these are exceptional and can only be raised if they are already provided by law, to protect the public interest and the rights of others.

I think this is clearly a test for an independent and impartial tribunal and not for a University rector to take the law into his hands in such an arbitrary manner without allowing for the recourse to a fair hearing. I think he should resign over his lack of knowledge of human rights and his failure to uphold them. He cannot plead lack of access to knowledge and information, can he?

And, for the record, the University chaplain was entitled to flag up the story as obscene. He is a priest, with a very clear and specific moral code and he would not be true to himself and his religion if he did not protest where he felt he had to. He, too, has a right to free expression, as well as the right to freedom of association (respect for his religious beliefs) because human rights are non-hierarchical and exist in relationship to each other. This means one cannot subordinate one right in favour of another.

Of course, his moral code is not necessarily one we all live by and so he cannot impose it on everyone around him. He can only hope that by his words and actions he can persuade us that his code is the right one.

There is no point in shying away from the biggest question of them all. Freedom of expression is the freedom to ask questions, learn the answers and be able to pass on the information to the next person. It matters. Freedom of expression is not just about saying what you want to say; it is also about learning what you want to learn and asking the questions you want to ask. Think about it. University lecturers would not be able to do their job without freedom of expression. Any task reliant on communication would be severely hampered, if not made downright impossible.

It is good to remember that with rights come responsibilities. The rule is that you can say anything you want to. The exception is that you cannot compromise other human rights by doing so. So it helps if what you say does not lead to murder and mayhem. There are laws to protect us from defamation and discrimination and violence, for example, and these are naturally positioned as the limits to freedom of expression. But you and I both know that in a fight between freedom of expression and its sister, you'd better hope that your bookie put your money on the old FOE. Unless you live in Malta.