Free Speech: Why Not Here?

"There are few things more precious on any university campus than freedom of thought and expression. That is the teaching of the First Amendment and I believe it should be the principle we live by at Columbia University."--President Lee C. Bollinger
I totally agree! Now if only there were a space on campus in which this principle could be put into practice. Short of that, it remains only a noble sentiment.

The heart of a living democracy should never be just an abstract legal liberty to speak an opinion. Rather, it must be the right to express oneself in a vibrant public setting where the issues of the day--whether political, intellectual, religious, or purely entertaining--are discussed and debated, and the thoughts and opinions of citizens who gather are challenged, shaped, and sharpened.

For old time New Englanders, this might have been the town square. For the ancient Athenians, it was the agora, where people gathered to discuss the latest ideas. For modern day Columbia, it used to be, and should be today, Low Plaza.

Designed to resemble the School of Athens, this great public square in our "city of books" ought to be filled daily, during the warmer seasons of the year, with every type of expression suitable to the vibrant intellectual community that Columbia is: spontaneous debates, impromptu a cappella concerts, soliloquies from Shakespeare.

And yet this space, once all this and more, lies buried today under such an oppressive weight of bureaucracy that none but the most ardent and organized groups manage to break through. The fact is, outdoor public speech is not free here now. It must be pre-screened and administratively licensed.

Say you want to invite a singing group to perform in the fall. First you must find an official student group to reserve the space, since individuals are forbidden. You are required to wait until the first day of class and then must fill out a form stating who is coming and a first, second, and third choice for when you want them to come. The form must be sent to an advisor, who ensures that your singers are suitable for Columbians. If approved, it goes finally to the scheduler. Then you wait. And wait. And wait.

Meanwhile days of warm weather go by in which the plaza stands empty. A week later you get a reply saying that you've been approved for your second choice. You tell your singing group and find that they can't make it then after all. You ask the scheduler if the third choice will work. It will. Another week goes by. The great day approaches. Beautiful music will finally grace the plaza, or so you think. Alas, it rains.

And as for Shakespeare, I asked the head of security what would happen if an individual student were to stand up and speak on Low Plaza. "If I received a complaint," he replied, "it would constitute an event," and he would shut it down. That, in a nutshell, is the extent of our liberty.

This past summer I spent four days in London. There, ironically, I tasted a bite of pure liberty in practice, far superior to anything that we enjoy at Columbia today.

Speakers' Corner, a section of Hyde Park in London, was established by an act of Parliament in 1872 as a forum for the utterly unfettered expression of thought.

Here, especially on Sundays, but legally on any day of the week, you will find a wide variety of speakers, some entertainingly insane and others intelligently persuasive, holding forth on subjects ranging from world peace to tax policy, heaven and hell, and the future of world governance.

What one finds so refreshing about that concept, now sadly alien to our local environs, is the total lack of red tape that stands between these speakers and their right to hold forth. There are no forms to fill out, no schedules to conform to, no permissions to obtain. They simply go out and speak.

The administration would likely respond that as a private institution, Columbia is under no legal obligation to provide its students with such sweeping freedoms.

However, the issue here is not the law, but the ideal. No university--Columbia least of all--should require the force of law to compel the provision of such a forum. Free expression is the heartbeat of this institution and it should be a delight, a source of pride even, that Columbia boasts such a stage at the center of campus life.

Furthermore, the fact is that in the not-so-distant past, Low Plaza afforded Columbians all the rights of a Speakers' Corner. Until about 1991, individuals and small groups had total liberty to stand up and speak or sing on campus to their heart's content. No forms. No permission. Nothing but air between the speaker and his or her audience.

By all means, mass protests should require a security permit. Groups should be allowed to reserve the plaza for large events. But in the many hours that remain, let's open the curtains onto this singular theater and give our generation, and perhaps one 100 years from now, a draught of democracy so true and vibrant that it would make even old Alexander Hamilton proud.

The author is a doctoral candidate at Teachers College.