Our free speech heritage
By Michael Henry Yusingco, LL.M
By Michael Henry Yusingco, LL.M
Long before free speech was twisted into a shield for publicly threatening to kill the President and his family, Filipinos knew what genuine censorship looked like. Under Spanish rule, criticizing government invited charges of sedition. Colonial rulers feared ideas because they understood a dangerous truth: words can overthrow oppressive regimes long before weapons do.
Not surprisingly, repression produced some of the greatest defenders of free expression in our history. José Rizal, Marcelo H. del Pilar, Graciano López Jaena, and other reformists used journalism and literature to expose abuses committed by colonial officials and religious authorities. Publications such as La Solidaridad and novels such as Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo transformed political writing into an instrument for national awakening.
Notably, Rizal’s defense of free speech was remarkably practical. He did not argue primarily that individuals possessed an abstract natural right to say whatever they wished. Instead, he argued that governments which silence criticism ultimately become blind to the grievances of their own people. In The Philippines a Century Hence, Rizal warned that revolutions erupt where people are denied the opportunity to speak freely. Suppressed voices do not disappear—they accumulate until they explode.
This insight about free speech remains as relevant today as it was during Spanish rule. Every government faces the temptation to clamp down on unfavourable reporting and hostile commentary. Many do so in the name of “national interest”. Yet our history repeatedly teaches the opposite lesson. Democracies become stronger—not weaker—when criticism is allowed to flourish. In truth, our revolutionary leaders understood this as they prepared for independence.
Apolinario Mabini’s Constitutional Program for the Philippine Republic (c. 1898) proposed that every Filipino should enjoy the right to express ideas freely through speech, writing, and the press without prior censorship. It was one of the earliest attempts to constitutionalize freedom of expression. But Mabini also recognized something often forgotten in contemporary debates. Liberty carried responsibilities.
In his True Decalogue, he emphasized civic virtue, moral responsibility, and devotion to the common good. Freedom of speech was not a license for irresponsibility but a necessary condition for republican self-government. Citizens were expected to exercise their freedoms in ways that strengthened—not weakened—the nation.
This balance between liberty and responsibility continues to shape constitutional debates today, particularly as democracies struggle to confront online disinformation, coordinated manipulation, and algorithm-driven polarization.
The arrival of American colonial rule introduced another important chapter in our free speech heritage. The United States brought with it constitutional concepts rooted in liberal democracy, including due process and freedom of expression. Yet there was an obvious contradiction. The Americans preached liberty while exercising imperial authority. When the colonial authority restricted overt nationalist expression, Filipino playwrights responded by producing so-called “seditious plays.”
Using allegory, symbolism, and coded political narratives, they bypassed military censors while cultivating nationalist sentiment. The message survived because it simply changed form. That lesson should resonate today. Whether the challenge comes from colonial censorship, state regulation, platform moderation, or online disinformation, suppressing ideas has rarely eliminated them. It merely drives them into new spaces and new forms.
It is worth remembering that free speech was never handed to Filipinos as a constitutional gift. It was earned through centuries of resistance against those who believed political stability depended on silencing dissenting views. Therefore, the enduring challenge for us today is not simply to defend free speech, but to preserve the democratic culture that gives it meaning: one in which citizens can criticize those in power, governments remain willing to listen, and truth ultimately prevails through open and vigorous public debate.
Comments (0)
LEAVE A REPLY
No comments yet
Be the first to share your thoughts!
Related Articles

The nuclear question
Every Filipino knows this feeling. The electric bill lands on the table, someone opens it, and the room suddenly grows quieter. Then comes the familiar joke: “Basi pwede na lang ta indi mag-ref.” Everyone laughs but no one thinks it’s amusing. A couple of days later, the power goes off again.


