Members of the anti-monarchist group Republic stage a protest along the route of the procession ahead of the coronation of King Charles III and Camilla, the Queen Consort, in London, Saturday, May 6, 2023. Photo / AP
Members of the anti-monarchist group Republic stage a protest along the route of the procession ahead of the coronation of King Charles III and Camilla, the Queen Consort, in London, Saturday, May 6, 2023. Photo / AP
OPINION:
On Coronation Day (May 6) there were disturbing reports from London of “not my King” protesters being arrested so they couldn’t disturb the King’s procession, only to be told later they would not be charged.
It reminded me of the last time I saw the then Prince Charles. It was at Waitangi on Waitangi Day 1994 when he was being welcomed on to Te Tii marae.
I was standing beside his car waiting for him to come out with my honour, the Treaty banner, fluttering in the breeze. When Charles came out, four diplomatic protection squad members created a barrier between us in case I attacked him, I suppose. I thought it was over the top, but these men had a job to do.
The official ceremony was that evening and so I returned with my banner; under the Bill of Rights (1990) I was exercising my still newly confirmed rights of freedom of speech and freedom of peaceful assembly. However, before Charles arrived, everyone who was obviously there to protest was issued a trespass notice and escorted off the grounds by the police under threat of arrest.
So much for my rights and so I decided to challenge it in the courts.
However, within days, the trespass notice was rescinded and I was informed that everything was now fine. But it wasn’t. My opinion has always been that they knew it wouldn’t stand up in court but, to save Charles and the Government any embarrassment, it was expedient to remove us. I had no intention of causing any disturbance.
Prince Charles and Princess Diana at Waitangi in 1983. Photo / NZME
I had made up my mind, a few years earlier, to try and exercise my right of free speech by protesting in a way that didn’t prevent other people from exercising their right to free speech.
In New Zealand it is not unusual to see those who engage in speech that offends others being shouted down.
We saw this earlier this year at an Auckland Library by those opposed to a drag queen story reading for children. We also saw it with the later visit of anti-trans activist Posie Parker who was shouted down and made to fear for her safety after being technically “assaulted”, although the trans community are much more likely to have valid fears for their safety.
Shouting down is something I have seen from the Left as well as the Right so maybe it is a New Zealand thing. For one thing it can be fun, satisfying, even exhilarating, unless of course, it is us being shouted down.
Kellie-Jay Keen-Minshull, aka Posie Parker, arrives at Albert Park in Central Auckland. She was hit with paint by a protester. Photo / Jed Bradley
Our Bill of Rights spells out “the right to freedom of peaceful assembly”, and “the right to freedom of expression, including the freedom to seek, receive, and impart information and opinions of any kind in any form”.
This last statement can make some of us uncomfortable as people can say some terrible things.
As a nation we have never had a purist approach to freedom of speech and we have a chief censor who rules on content that is likely to be injurious to the public good. Their office can “restrict material that could encourage behaviour that poses a risk of self-harm or harm to others, and material that is promotional of criminal, terrorist or violent acts”.
While we have legal limits we also have social consequences for those who act in ways that are offensive.
As we have seen recently, men can’t say sleazy things with impunity like they have in the past and just because they got away with it then doesn’t mean that it was ever right.
Our children’s generation are less inclined to ignore speech that oppresses, objectifies or is hateful.
I think one of the major reasons why is that, unlike my generation, many know young people who have taken their own lives or have friends that live in fear because of how they identify.
They have also witnessed the Christchurch mosque attacks and seen what happens when hateful speech is taken to its illogical conclusion. They’ve grown up sensitive to the pain of others because they also see and know pain.
I often listen to those advocating for free speech, because I need challenging as I have identified an inclination in myself to limit free speech. I don’t want people to say offensive things but I also have an understanding of what it is like to have my own freedom of speech curbed by the state.
With the Government’s delay on hateful speech legislation, it gives us more time to look at if, how, and why we may limit free speech. Until we do, we will still have some legal and social consequences to guide our behaviour.
But we also have to find better ways of disagreeing because “shouting down” rarely changes someone else’s opinion.
Anaru Eketone is an Associate Professor in social and community work at the University of Otago and a columnist for the Otago Daily Times.
