‘Mein Kampf’ and Free Speech
What happens when a nation bans a work, a piece of writing, however loathsome? Those forms of expression become mythical. They are endowed with a power and a mystery that might otherwise have been denied them. The very act of banning a phrase, a gesture, a television program—or refusing to allow the appearance of a certain work in print—implies strongly that the government issuing these decrees is a weakling, raging, foaming, threatening, but essentially impotent against a force of arguments found so compelling they are made to disappear.
Or are they?
In France last month, Nicolas Sarkozy—in a last-ditch and ultimately futile effort to get reelected by playing the strongman—decreed it illegal for citizens to access terrorist websites. However, no one appears to know exactly how such a law will be implemented. How, in other words, will France define “terrorist website”? How will it manage to track down every last person online? And would François Hollande, the new socialist president, ever implement such a decree? (Probably not…)
In Italy, where the fascist salute is illegal and, to quote the Italian Constitution, “it is a public offense to exalt leaders, symbols … of fascism,” a photo of a bus in Rome displaying the digital message “Onore al Duce” (“Honor to Il Duce”) found universal fame on the Internet last week.
In other words, the more you ban, the more mystique acquired by the subject of that ban.