Freedom is often described as the absence of external control, influence, interference, or constraint. In practice, this means the ability to express opinions freely (freedom of speech), to hold personal beliefs without fear (freedom of conscience), to travel without obstruction (freedom of movement), and to form relationships without restrictions (freedom of association).

But if that’s true, how can any government meaningfully claim to be “for” freedom? Isn’t that a contradiction in terms? If freedom means the absence of external constraint, and government by definition imposes rules, restrictions, and systems of control, then isn’t government inherently at odds with freedom itself? And if so, shouldn’t the one who values freedom above all else naturally be an anarchist?

Anarchy, by definition, is the absence of a governing authority or formal legal system. Politically, it rejects centralised power; philosophically, it opposes any form of coercive government, and is said to advocate for voluntary cooperation, mutual aid, and self-governance instead. Man is his own king and god.

At first glance, anarchy may seem like the purest form of liberty—a society where no external authority exists to dictate right or wrong. Every man is free to do what is right in his own eyes, not the eyes of another. But this view rests on a fundamentally flawed assumption: that a man free from external constraints is therefore free in every sense.

In reality, he is far from it. What this view fails to take into account is the inner tyrannies—man’s unrestrained passions, cravings, and moral blindness. A man ruled by his own appetites is no freer than one ruled by a dictator. In fact, he may be in even deeper bondage. 

If a man’s own desires lead him to betray, exploit, or harm others, then his so-called “freedom” amounts to nothing more than mutual destruction and permanent bondage—the exact antithesis of liberty. Consider a man with an uncontrollable lust for other men’s wives, like a mindless dog on heat—his passions will inevitably provoke retaliation, breed social chaos, and ultimately spell his own demise.

Anarchy assumes that every craving is legitimate and, at the very least, morally neutral, that the human will is inherently good, or at least, self-justifying. But all of history demonstrates the opposite: man left to himself does not produce peace, but conflict; he doesn’t cultivate order, but destruction—either of himself or other “free” men.

Vishal Mangalwadi rightly observed, “What is freedom without virtue? It is the greatest of all possible evils… It is madness without restraint. Men are qualified for civil liberty in exact proportion to their disposition to put moral chains upon their own appetite.

“Society cannot exist,” he said, “unless a controlling power upon will and appetite be placed somewhere; and the less of it there is within, the more there must be without.”

This strikes at the heart of the issue: freedom without a moral framework becomes chaos. The so-called liberation of unrestrained self-rule simply replaces external authority with internal tyranny. And internal tyranny, unresisted, soon brings about external tyranny to contain its fallout.

True freedom, then, must be something more than the absence of laws. True freedom is not the licence to do anything you want, but the liberty to do what is right. This requires a moral standard beyond individual preference. This requires a moral standard that is objective, universal, and transcendent of man himself.

All functioning societies, regardless of political system, depend on some form of authority and law. Good laws, rightly understood, do not seek to enslave but to create the conditions in which freedom, justice, and peace can flourish. Without laws and authority, chaos and conflict quickly arise. Historically, freedom most successfully flourished in the Western world because the Christian religion, under which the Western world operated, offers exactly this. The further the modern West drifts from Christianity, the further it drifts from freedom, and the more arbitrary and authoritarian its rulers must act.

Christianity’s moral framework—grounded in the dignity of the individual made in God’s image and the call to love one’s neighbour—provides the ethical foundation necessary for genuine freedom. It places limits not to restrict, but to protect, enabling individuals and communities to flourish within a framework of mutual responsibility.

As such, in the Christian view, freedom is not the right to sin, but the right to obey. It is not autonomy—man acting as his own god—but theonomy: submission to God’s righteous rule, without interference from men who would prefer to play god. That includes the self-exalting man within. The truly free man is not the one who shakes off all restraint, but the one who is liberated from the tyranny of sin, both within and without, and is empowered to walk in obedience to God.

This is why Christianity and freedom are not at odds, but inherently and necessarily connected. The Bible teaches that freedom is the ability to live rightly, without fear of external persecution or the internal corruption of sin. As such, freedom is not about rejecting all authority, but submitting to the right authorities. It is for this reason that advocating for a Christian Nation is entirely consistent with advocating for freedom. 

Some might object, “But doesn’t true freedom include the right to reject Christian morals?” Once again, this question rests on a flawed premise—namely, that freedom means each person has the right to define good and evil for themselves. But in truth, no one consistently believes that. And if you ever meet someone who claims to, just scratch his car and take his wallet, then remind him that his outrage is merely subjective and shouldn’t be enforced on others. True freedom, however, means every man has the right to live according to God’s will, unimpeded by external oppression and internal vice. 

Some may argue that freedom must allow for the rejection of Christian morals, appealing to pluralism or personal conscience. Yet, any society that embraces freedom must also acknowledge limits: that not all personal choices can be equally valid if freedom is to be preserved for all. The question becomes which moral framework best secures genuine freedom, justice, and peace—and history shows Christianity remains unmatched, not just because it works best, but because it’s true.

The man truly committed to freedom cannot be an anarchist—nor, ultimately, anything other than a Christian. True freedom does not exalt the individual as his own final authority, free to impose a private moral code on others. Rather, it is—as God defines it—the liberty to do what is right: to obey without fear, to live in harmony with the truth. Freedom is not autonomy but accountability—not to the arbitrary will of man, but to the righteous authority of our Creator.

As Christians, we uphold freedom not as the rejection of authority, but as the embrace of rightful authority; not as the license to do whatever we please, but as the call to live as we were created to live—under God’s good law, in joyful obedience to His design.

Freedom divorced from Christian morality quickly descends into chaos. Anarchy, far from delivering liberty, produces bondage—often the ultimate bondage: death. This is because real freedom is not found in self-rule, but in submission to the One who made us. In the end, true freedom is not autonomy. True freedom is theonomy.

As such, freedom is not the chaos of unchecked desire, but the space to live under God’s righteous law. It is the liberty to serve, to love, and to flourish in community, empowered by grace to live as we ought, not merely as we please. This is not freedom from authority, but freedom through the right authority: the rule of Christ. Jesus said, “I am the Truth,” and it is only in knowing the Truth—knowing Him—that we can truly know freedom (John 8:31-32).