The Case for “Liberty” Epigraphs
Once upon a time newspapers were fearless in their reporting of the facts and the defence of liberty. But that was then…
During recent research for a different topic, I came across an 1869 edition of a regional newspaper, Wagga Wagga Advertiser and Riverine Reporter, – today known as The Daily Advertiser.
What struck me was not the old-style print associated with ‘ye olde’ printing presses, or the beautifully poetic writing of the editorials and letters to the editor, but something far less noticeable in size, yet more poignant for its brevity and literary power:
‘This is true liberty, when freeborn men,
Having to advise the public, may speak free.’
This iconic liberty-inspired phrase is most associated with John Milton, political thinker of the 1600s, but its genesis goes back to ancient Greece.
The Greek playwright, Euripides, wrote a play called Suppliant Women, from where the inspiration for this particular phrase derives. It is premised on the section where Theseus, king of Athens, explains how democracy and tyranny work to a visiting herald.
Our respect for liberty has slipped so far down the proverbial totem pole of free speech
Milton wrote the now renowned but at the time, controversial, pamphlet, Areopagitica, in 1644 as a plea to the parliament of England to have a free press. He opened the pamphlet with reference to Euripides’ powerful words:
‘This is true liberty, when free-born men,
Having to advise the public, may speak free,
Which he who can, and will deserves high praise;
Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace:
What can be juster in a state than this?’
In light of the tenuous nature of democracy and the current instability occurring throughout the West today, it is worthy of relaying here the entire section leading up to that infamous phrase:
‘This herald is a clever fellow, a dabbler in the art of talk.
But since you have thus entered the contest with me, listen awhile, for it was you that challenged a discussion.
Nothing is more hostile to a city than a despot; where he is, there are first no laws common to all, but one man is tyrant, in whose keeping and in his alone the law resides, and in that case, equality is at an end.
But when the laws are written down, rich and weak alike have equal justice, and it is open to the weaker to use the same language to the prosperous when he is reviled by him, and the weaker prevails over the stronger if he has justice on his side.
Freedom’s mark is also seen in this: “Who has wholesome counsel to declare unto the state?” And he who chooses to do so gains renown, while he, who has no wish, remains
silent. What greater equality can there be in a city?’
That the first two lines were positioned directly underneath the title of the Wagga Wagga Advertiser and Riverine Reporter, and separated by the date which was written in large capital letters ensconced with double lines above and below, is testament to how our respect for liberty has slipped so far down the proverbial totem pole of free speech today.
The Daily Advertiser used that motto until sometime in the 1950s. Upon further research, I found that not one Australian news outlet has used such a motto to liberty since the early twentieth century. The only mention to free speech and a free press is contained within charters, policies or editorials, an example being the Australian Press Council’s Charter for a Free Press.
What has happened to our free press and their once fervent support for the freedom to speak and write?
We should not underestimate the impact a short and pointed phrase can have on our perceptions.
But since you have thus entered the contest with me, listen awhile, for it was you that challenged a discussion.
It was that single line alone of Euripides – borrowed by Milton – that gave me pause and set the tone for what I would then go on to read and later write about. But more than this, the power of such a potent phrase as this one is rooted in the authority of the ancient Greek democratic ideals – the very same ones which we inherited and have lived by for hundreds of years.
This is both provocative, in the sense of reminding us of where our freedom came from and how its precious underpinnings require constant vigilance to preserve; and alarming, in the fact that today in 2026, most western democracies have regressed to become captives of the Leviathan’s enormous surveillance tentacles.
I am an avid supporter of collecting, categorising and preserving worthy sayings, thoughts or memories, because it can serve us well when we seek to recall the minutiae of ideas, particularly the important ones relating to our civic lives.
It was a highly valued practice in the ancient world, and Renaissance era. Known as Commonplace, people in those times would collect and preserve statements they considered to be worthy of remembrance from either their ancestors or even contemporaries if considered credible and important enough.
In Latin, this is known as Meminesse – ‘to remember.’
We would do well to reprise this practice and hand it on to our descendants in the hope they will be enriched by the achievements of those who have paved the way for freedom, liberty and lives worthy of remembrance.





Today, we treat “free speech” as if it’s a controversial slogan rather than the operating system of a free society.
We are told to be cautious with the word liberty. To qualify it. To moderate it. To balance it. To regulate it. To contextualise it.
But Milton didn’t whisper it.
Euripides didn’t footnote it.
They proclaimed it.
And they understood something timeless:
Free speech is not a boutique right for agreeable opinions. It is the mechanism by which bad ideas are exposed, power is checked, and citizens remain sovereign.
When liberty language fades from mastheads and everyday conversation, it doesn’t mean society has matured. It usually means power has consolidated.
The answer isn’t to retire the rhetoric.
The answer is to revive it — boldly and unapologetically.
Use the words.
Repeat them.
Normalise them.
Make “liberty” as ordinary as “fairness.”
Make “free speech” as instinctive as “democracy.”
Because the moment we treat liberty as archaic poetry instead of present practice, we’ve already conceded ground.
If 19th-century regional editors could print it in ink above the fold, surely 21st-century Australians can say it out loud without embarrassment.
Liberty is not a slogan.
It’s a habit.
And habits survive when they are spoken.