Freedom of speech and the right of the people peaceably to assemble
Several decades ago, shortly after my family moved to Teaneck, Meir Kahane, the founder and leader of the Jewish Defense League in the United States and the founder and leader of the ultra-nationalist Kach party in Israel, came to speak twice in my new hometown. And I picketed him. Both times.
The first was when he spoke in Teaneck High School. Our group of picketers consisted of Jews from across all denominations. Unlike the raucous, unruly, and sometimes violent demonstrations of the JDL, we were a nice bunch of Jewish guys and gals. So we simply stood outside the entrance, waved homemade signs, sang some old Hebrew and civil rights songs, and tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to chant “Kahane go home.” We didn’t block any entrances or enter the venue to disrupt his presentation.
There had been plenty of publicity so he drew a nice crowd — better than our motley crew of picketers. More than a few of the people attending, many from my Orthodox community, gave us mean looks as they entered. And when Kahane himself walked up the high school’s long flight of steps, he directed some sharp words to us, and we responded in kind. After reliving what was for many of us our youthful anti-Viet Nam War/civil rights protesting days of the 1960s, we packed up our gear and went home.
The second time he spoke had a very different vibe. He was invited to speak in a private home, owned by a member of one of Teaneck’s Orthodox synagogues. The attendees were carefully selected and invited. There wasn’t publicity, but secrets are hard to keep in a town like ours, so the word got out. And a group of us once again gathered to picket his presentation. The picketers were fewer this time and consisted almost entirely of Orthodox Jews, though our signs still were homemade, and our songs still were dated.
The homeowner was not happy and shouted at us to leave. When we ignored him, he or one of the attendees called the police, who, after arriving, noted we had no permit and told us to disperse. When we responded that we didn’t need a permit to exercise our right to peacefully assemble, they pointed out that some of our marching was on the property owner’s grass. They agreed, though, that we could continue picketing as long as we confined our marching to the sidewalk. We did so while they were there and tried to do so, usually successfully, after they left.
Fast forward more than 35 years to a Teaneck and Bergen County in a post-October 7, 2023 world. Our Jewish community, though deeply shocked by the evils perpetrated by Hamas on that day of death and destruction, rose to the occasion in many ways in support of the State of Israel and the hostages who were so brutally kidnapped and killed. We not only raised large sums of money but also raised our voices, loudly and publicly.
And so, shortly after those horrific events, we turned out in droves for a townwide rally in Sagamore Park, with speeches, prayers, and song. On Yom Ha’Atzma’ut we gathered for a massive hours-long birthday party in Votee Park — Teaneck’s Central Park (which was its original name) — where we not only waved our flags, listened to speeches, sang our songs, and recited our prayers, but even took over the Teaneck skies with a spectacular drone show. And every Sunday morning a hearty group participates, no matter the weather, in a walk in Votee demanding freedom for the hostages. (The walk is organized and led by my cousin and fellow Teaneck resident Elchanan Ogorek — we’re so proud of you, Elchanan.)
There’s more. To commemorate the first anniversary of the Shmini Atzeret horrors, a crowd 5,000 strong gathered in a large tent at the Kaplen JCC on the Palisades in Tenafly, where we cried and spoke and watched videos and remembered as a county-wide community. And, of course, who can forget the massive 300,000-person rally on the Mall in Washington (see “Doing it Again”), where those of us from North Jersey and MetroWest joined with our sisters and brothers from around the country and beyond to support Israel and its citizens in their time of need, demand freedom for the hostages, and combat antisemitism.
There were a number of people and groups that made all of this possible. I’m thinking of our Jewish leadership, both lay and religious, who provided inspiration, encouragement, and, well, leadership; our Jewish organizations, which provided the planning and infrastructure necessary to pull off large-scale events; our political leaders and government officials, who assisted in smoothing the way to using public property and clearing bureaucratic obstacles; and the police departments of all the locales where these events took place, who worked hard to keep us safe. We were, and continue to be, deeply thankful to all.
But there was one more, inanimate, object that was indispensable in making all this, including my Kahane protests, possible: the First Amendment to the United States Constitution (and similar provisions in various state constitutions). Without it, our right to raise our voices as we did would not have been as obvious and easy as it was. Let’s review its sacred words.
“Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech, … or the right of the people peaceably to assemble.”
Nineteen words that give life to the precious freedom that we Americans have to express ourselves even if others — indeed, especially when others — disagree; 19 words that make us a truly free people; 19 words that allow us to engage with each other in the marketplace of ideas rather than through riots and civil wars; 19 words that exemplify democracy, debate, and disagreement rather than violence and imposed silence; 19 words that represent America as it should be, though not as it always is.
But freedom of speech is not simple. The extensive First Amendment jurisprudence that I began learning in law school and that has continued to grow since that time teaches us that there are many questions about exactly how it should be applied and where lines may be drawn and regulations imposed. While these questions are tough, the jurisprudence also teaches that they need to be answered with wisdom and a gentle hand.
While this column expresses lifelong beliefs about what is, to my mind, a secular sacred document, I’ve decided to write about it now, while Teaneck is grappling with the possibility of revising an ordinance that would increase its regulation of this precious freedom by amending an ordinance relating, in part, to public protests in our township. That process has slowed down a bit, to the consternation of some in my community. Not me. I think the new pace is wise when dealing with this precious right, as was the Town Council’s decision to retain an independent constitutional expert to assist it in its task.
Many in our town will be watching carefully as the council seeks to ensure that all Teaneck residents can continue to freely exercise their First Amendment rights, while at the same time keeping Teaneck’s residents safe in what is a volatile time. I’ll be among those watching, and I may have more to say as the process unfolds. But for now, I’ll simply end with a reiteration of these beloved words: Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech, … or the right of the people peaceably to assemble.
Amen.
Joseph C. Kaplan, a retired lawyer, longtime Teaneck resident, and regular columnist for the Jewish Standard and the New Jersey Jewish News, is the author of “A Passionate Writing Life: From ‘In my Opinion’ to ‘I’ve Been Thinking’” (available at Teaneck’s Judaica House). He and his wife, Sharon, have been blessed with four wonderful daughters and five delicious grandchildren.
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