Self-censorship is one manifestation of fear.
When we stop ourselves from saying what we want, when we want, we are afraid.
Whether it be ostracization, persecution, ridicule or annihilation, we understand that there are real world consequences for speaking our mind.
But there are also consequences for not speaking our mind, for not exercising our right to speech, or dissenting in the face of oppression.
History as an example
When we stop ourselves from speaking and standing up for what is right, we slowly pave the road towards political mutism and feed into the fear that the state then harnesses to control us.
How does this manifest itself in the real world?
There are many case studies from the 20th century that one can point to. From the totalitarian societies of the communist east bloc to modern day China where speech is monitored, expression is censored and loyalty is coerced.
These societies often function in the same way.
The opposition and the rebels are too afraid to raise their voice and find new channels and new ways to communicate in the background.
Meanwhile the corporations, sycophants, and businesses sing the praises of the ruler and more often than not find themselves familiar bedfellows.
It could be worse
Does it sound all familiar?
Don’t be fooled. Thailand is not even close to these societies.
While the right to expression is certainly curtailed here in Thailand, it could be so much worse.
There are places in the world where the government is always listening and any misstep can spell doom.
There are famous books that attempt to capture this sentiment. The Handmaid’s Tale, 1984, and Fahrenheit 451 are all good places to start, if vivid literature is your persuasion.
But the real world examples are much more chilling because they involve real human beings and real experiences. Take for example Saddam Hussein’s Iraq.
One-time Kurdish resistance leader Jalal Talabani has told stories to the public about his formative years growing up under Saddam’s regime where secret police listened on in every cafe and every rebel caught by the regime could not only expect death for him/herself but also for their families.
Talabani said that the Kurdish rebels fought on and continued to dissent despite these very real threats because if they stopped, the situation and persecutions would only get so much worse.
Or take the story of Vaclav Havel, a poet and playwright, living in Czechoslovakia at the height of communist rule.
Allow me to quote from Christopher Hitchens, who writes about Havel’s experience in his book Letters to a Young Contrarian:
“[Havel] realised that “resistance” in its original insurgent and militant sense was impossible in the central Europe of the day. He therefore proposed living “as if” he were a citizen of a free society, “as if” lying and cowardice were not mandatory patriotic duties, “as if” his government had signed (which it actually had) the various treaties and agreements that enshrine universal human rights. He called this tactic the “power of the powerless” because, even when disagreement is almost forbidden, a state that insists on actually compelling assent can be relatively easily made to look stupid.”
Why we must dissent
The reason I bring up Talabani and Havel is because both would emerge from their respective country’s dark ages and go on to lead their people. Talabani was president of a post-Saddam Iraq while Havel led his country after the fall of the communist party.
Both men have experienced real fear, been persecuted by real totalitarian regimes, and both warn the same thing.
The rise of tyrants and oppressive regimes may come through coups or sudden seizures of powers but they are enabled and emboldened when the common man does nothing and is too afraid to speak their mind.
We do not know what real fear is like here in Thailand, we actually have it pretty good. But it may not always be that way and it could get a whole lot worse if we continue to be too afraid to say what is necessary.
