FREE SPEECH ON CAMPUS (batteries not included)

Robert Jensen

The University of Texas' commitment to free speech on campus -- which has  been a curiously lethargic commitment given the centrality of such freedom  to higher education -- has gotten curiouser lately.

Sadly, I think this little story from the largest university in the United  States tells us a lot about the state of American campuses. On the heels of  the use of force by university police to stop a professor speaking with a  bullhorn at a pro-choice rally, the police on my campus now seem to have  unilaterally criminalized mere possession of a bullhorn (even if it doesn't  have batteries in it) by threatening to arrest me.

The story began on Tuesday when more than 200 pro-choice demonstrators  rallied in front of a 20-foot anti-abortion display with huge pictures of  bloody fetuses, which has dominated the plaza in front of Gregory Gym all  week. While some people thought the display should come down, many of us  defended the speech rights of the anti-abortion group and wanted to counter  it with the classic "more speech" response.

When protesters began to speak with a bullhorn, they were told by UT  officials that amplified sound would not be allowed in that area. After  English Prof. Mia Carter defied the rule and spoke to the crowd, police  rushed her, roughly pushing down students who were trying to protect her,  ripping the bullhorn out of her hands, and injuring her.

Wednesday the protesters were back. When I approached the rally area with a  bullhorn, police immediately informed me of the ban on amplified sound and  told me to take the bullhorn out of the rally area or leave it with police  until the rally was over. I asked what would happen if I held onto the  bullhorn, which at that moment didn't even have batteries in it. Police  said I would be arrested and charged with criminal trespassing.

I then asked the police to cite the university regulation or criminal  statute that allowed them to demand that I surrender the bullhorn. They  were, as lawyers say, unresponsive.

I tried to explain to the officers that threats of arrest usually come with  explanation of the law one is accused of violating. Again, I asked, what  law criminalizes carrying a bullhorn (and a battery-less one at that)? More  unresponsiveness.

After repeating the question several times, the officers finally told me  that the order came from the president's office and that it was time for me  to choose whether to stay or go.

As the crowd chanted "free speech now," I left the area, with police  dutifully following me to make sure I didn't dash back to the rally area  with my unauthorized amplification system to commit an unauthorized speech act.

Back at the rally, people talked about the importance of expanding  free-speech rights on campus. One student described having pamphlets  illegally confiscated on campus during Parents' Weekend this fall, and  another recounted the administration's public lies to denigrate and derail  students' plans to protest Henry Kissinger's lecture last year.

On Thursday, pro-choice and free-speech supporters returned for the final  day of rallies at the anti-abortion installation. Instead of bullhorns,  this time we came with cheerleader-style cardboard megaphones to  un-electronically amplify our voices. Apparently the police decided this  violated no law, policy, or dictate from the president's office; no one was  assaulted or threatened with arrest for this low-tech approach.

On that final day, students questioned why a huge display funded by an  off-campus group (albeit with a student front group formed to legitimize  the display under university rules) was given so much space. Several  students crossed over the metal barricades of the anti-abortion group to  assert students' objection to the special treatment given to the display.  The anti-abortion group leaders demanded that police arrest the students  for trespassing, but this time university officials wisely backed off.

The university's rules give administrators the right to deny students  permission to hold demonstrations or use amplified sound "if the space  requested is unavailable, inadequate, or inappropriate to accommodate the  proposed use at the time requested." While everyone acknowledges that some  limits on amplified sound are necessary to make sure classes function  without disruption, many on campus think the rules -- and the  administration's application of them -- are arbitrary and unnecessarily  restrictive. Indeed, given the geography of the Gregory Gym area, it's  difficult to imagine how a bullhorn could disrupt classes in the  surrounding buildings any more than in the university's designated "rally  areas" when amplification is allowed.

The best sign that a university is doing its job is a campus that is alive  with speech. The U.S. Supreme Court has said that a real democracy requires  speech that is "uninhibited, robust, and wide-open." So does a real  university.

No matter how much it might scare administrators who are conscious of the  opinions of wealthy donors and conservative legislators, a loud campus is  an intellectually healthy campus.

Robert Jensen is a professor in the Department of Journalism at the  University of Texas at Austin. He can be reached at rjensen@uts.cc.utexas.edu.