"What are the defenders of free speech to do? The sad fact is that this fundamental freedom is on its heels across America. Politicians of both parties want to use the power of government to silence their foes. Some in the university community seek to drive it from their campuses. And an entire generation of Americans is being taught that free speech should be curtailed as soon as it makes someone else feel uncomfortable. On the current trajectory, our nation's dynamic marketplace of ideas will soon be replaced by either disengaged intellectual silos or even a stagnant ideological conformity. Few things would be so disastrous for our nation and the well-being of our citizenry."--William Ruger, "Free Speech Is Central to Our Dignity as Humans"
As a nation, we have a tendency to sentimentalize cultural icons in death in a way that renders them non-threatening, antiseptic and easily digested by a society with an acute intolerance for anything controversial, politically incorrect or marred by imperfection.
This revisionist history--a silent censorship of sorts--has proven to be a far more effective means of neutralizing radicals such as Martin Luther King Jr. than anything the NSA, CIA or FBI could dream up.
In life, King called for Americans to rise up against a government that was not only treating blacks unfairly but was also killing innocent civilians, impoverishing millions, and prioritizing the profits of war over human rights and dignity. This was a man who went to jail over racial segregation laws, encouraged young children to face down police dogs and water hoses, and who urged people to turn their anger loose on the government through civil disobedience. King actually insisted that people have a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.
In death, however, King has been reduced to a face on a national monument and a national holiday, neither of which even hint at the true nature of the man: fiery, passionate, single-minded in his pursuit of justice, unwilling to remain silent in the face of wrongdoing, and unafraid of offending those who might disagree with him.
A contemporary of King's, heavy-weight championship boxer Muhammad Ali followed a different path as a social activist and "breaker of boundaries." Like King, Ali didn't pull any punches when it came to saying what he believed and acting on it. Yet already, in the wake of Ali's passing, we're being treated to a sentimentalized version of the heavy-weight boxer.
In life, Ali was fast-talking, fast-moving and as politically incorrect as they come. He became an early convert to the Nation of Islam, a black separatist religious movement whose membership at one time included Malcolm X and Louis Farrakhan. He denounced his "slave name" (Cassius Marcellus Clay) and refused to be the "white man's Negro."
He was stripped of his boxing title, arrested and threatened with five years in prison and a fine of $10,000 after refusing to be drafted into the Army as a conscientious objector to the Vietnam War. "My conscience won't let me go shoot my brother, or some darker people, or some poor hungry people in the mud for big powerful America," declared Ali. "And shoot them for what? They never called me n-word, they never lynched me, they didn't put no dogs on me, they didn't rob me of my nationality, rape and kill my mother and father. " Shoot them for what? How can I shoot them poor people? Just take me to jail."
As First Amendment scholar David L. Hudson Jr. notes, "Ali's remarkable career and life placed him at the vortex of these First Amendment freedoms" Ali freely exercised his religious faith. He regularly spoke provocatively on a variety of topics. The press was abuzz with coverage and criticism. Thousands assembled in support of him, and the champion himself took part in rallies, parades and marches. Some petitioned the government to redress the injustice of his conviction for refusing military service, which resulted in his being exiled from the boxing ring for his beliefs."
It took a legal battle all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court for Ali's religious objections to serving in the Army to be given credence and his First Amendment arguments to prevail. The case was Clay v. United States.
That was in 1971.
Forty-five years later, Ali is dead, fear is alive, and free speech is being dealt one knock-out punch after another.
Indeed, talk-show celebrity Piers Morgan has been soundly trounced and roundly censured for daring to suggest that Ali--a champion of the First Amendment who liberally peppered his speech with words (n-word and Uncle Tom) and opinions ("the white man is the Devil" and "I'm sure no intelligent white person watching this show ... want black boys and black girls marrying their white sons and daughters") that would horrify most of his politically correct fans--made more "inflammatory/racist" comments than Donald Trump.
Speaking of Trump, in Fresno, California, a third-grader was ordered to remove his pro-Trump "Make America Great Again" hat because school officials feared for his safety. The 9-year-old boy refused, citing the First Amendment.
That was the same argument--a concern for safety--officials used in 2010 when they ordered several high school students to remove their t-shirts emblazoned with the American flag. The concern: wearing the flag on Cinco de Mayo, a Mexican day of celebration, might offend Hispanic students attending the school. The U.S. Supreme Court agreed with the school's logic. Coincidentally, that same week, the high court also ruled against Confederate flag license plates on the grounds that they constituted government speech and might be offensive to African-Americans.