Following 12 arrests at a pro-Palestine protest outside University of New Hampshire's Thompson Hall, protesters gathered again on May 6.
Following 12 arrests at a pro-Palestine protest outside University of New Hampshire's Thompson Hall, protesters gathered again on May 6. Credit: JEREMY MARGOLIS

Free speech is more than a legal right โ€” it is the foundation that allows us to live, learn and grow together.ย In a healthy democracy, ideas are met with ideas, not threats or violence. Yet across our nation, we are witnessing a dangerous erosion of this principle, with consequences that reach far beyond any single canceled event.

Recently, a program titledย “The General’s Son Speaks: Confronting Truth in Israel-Palestine”ย was scheduled at 3S Artspace in Portsmouth. Speaker Miko Peled, the son of an Israeli general, planned to share his personal journey of questioning what he had been taught and seeking a path toward peace. Before the event could take place, 3S received violent threats. Understandably, concerned for the safety of staff, attendees and the building itself, 3S canceled the program.

At first glance, this might seem like the loss of just one local educational event. But what happened reflects a much deeper problem: when fear and intimidation silence people, we all lose something essential.

This silencing through intimidation is part of a broader crisis. Our country has seen a troubling rise in political violence that crosses party lines. Donald Trump, then a presidential candidate, survived assassination attempts. Political figures from both parties have faced targeted attacks that should alarm us all.

As journalist Ezra Klein said on X: โ€œPolitical violence is contagious. It is spreading. It is not confined to one side or belief system. It should terrify us all. The foundation of a free society is the ability to participate in it without fear of violence.โ€

A thriving democracy depends on a diversity of perspectives. We grow by engaging with viewpoints different from our own, especially those that challenge our deepest beliefs. The canceled 3S program was not intended to dictate what anyone should think, but rather to invite people to hear one personโ€™s story: the son of an Israeli general grappling with one of the worldโ€™s most painful and complicated conflicts. His comments were also intended to demonstrate there is no single โ€œJewish perspectiveโ€ on this tragic issue.

Such opportunities remind us that behind every argument or headline are real human beings whose experiences we may never fully encounter or understand.

The Israel-Palestinian conflict raises extraordinarily difficult questions about history, justice and identity. Shutting down programs that explore these questions sends a dangerous message: that some views are too risky to even be heard. This fosters a culture where disagreement itself feels threatening and only one โ€œacceptableโ€ narrative is allowed โ€” closing doors to a deeper understanding not just of this issue, but of any complex issue.

Inevitably, a chilling effect begins to spread. Artists avoid controversial subjects, writers temper their critiques and speakers shy away from difficult topics. This kind of invisible censorship is especially dangerous because it quietly narrows the range of acceptable discourse without public debate or even awareness that it is happening.

History repeatedly shows the cost of meeting challenging ideas with hostility rather than engagement. In the 1840s, Ignaz Semmelweis proposed that doctors wash their hands between patients. His colleagues ridiculed him, and he was professionally ostracized by the medical establishment. In the early 1600s, Galileo championed the revolutionary idea that the Earth revolves around the sun, defying traditional church doctrine. For his intellectual courage, Galileo was forced to recant and spent his remaining years under house arrest.

The lesson is clear: a society that punishes intellectual or moral courage through violence or intimidation forfeits its capacity to grow, to innovate and to discover new truths. The canceled 3S event might have sparked new thinking about peace, inspired someone to create art or motivated action that deepened understanding of this tragic conflict. Such opportunities are lost when fear replaces curiosity and democracy suffers.

Deeper still, the greatest cost of losing free speech is the erosion of our shared humanity. When we are denied โ€” or when we choose to deny ourselves โ€” the opportunity to truly listen to the โ€œother,โ€ we risk more than losing access to diverse opinions. We risk losing our very sense of what it means to live together as human beings.

There is reason for optimism. After 3S Artspace canceled the event due to safety concerns, courageous students associated with the Palestinian Solidarity Coalition at the University of New Hampshire brought the issue to the attention of the universityโ€™s administration. UNH, in turn, stepped forward to provide space so the program could proceed.

This decision exemplifies the vital role educational institutions play in fostering critical thinking and open inquiry, and it reminds us that protecting free speech requires not only institutional courage but also individual commitment to this most fundamental constitutional principle. That is the choice before us all.

Scott Dickman is a member ofย Not In My Name New Hampshire, an organization advocating for a solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict. He lives in Concord.