ESENDOM

Cultura y conciencia

The “Lesbian National Anthem” Controversy Rekindles the Debate: Is Freedom of Expression in the Dominican Republic Real—or Conditional?

Opinion, News, PoliticsNelson SantanaComment

By Nelson Santana
August 10, 2025

Lea español: La controversia del «Himno Nacional Lésbico» reabre el debate: ¿Existe realmente la libertad de expresión en República Dominicana?

An uncomfortable question cuts through the Dominican public conversation: do we truly enjoy freedom of expression in the Dominican Republic, or are we living under a regime of “conditional freedom,” where certain subjects remain untouchable?

The uproar over the so-called “Dominican Lesbian National Anthem,” created by Dominican-born, U.S.-based writer and activist Yoseli Castillo Fuertes, goes far beyond national symbols. It’s a mirror forcing us to examine who we are as a society and to ask: where do we draw the line between protecting our symbols and silencing uncomfortable truths?

SANTO DOMINGO — Let’s ask the question nobody wants to voice: do we live in a free country, or in a democratic illusion where freedom of expression exists only on paper? The uproar over the “Lesbian National Anthem” is not just about an irreverent poet. It’s the harsh mirror exposing a deeper truth: in the Dominican Republic, freedom of expression is a privilege with terms and conditions, not a guaranteed right.

The Text that Set Off the Storm

The poem—performed at a cultural event—borrowed the melody of the Dominican National Anthem to proclaim the presence and rights of the LGBTQ+ community, weaving verses of identity pride, social critique, and provocative historical references.

In the United States, where Castillo Fuertes resides, such reinterpretations are common in both political and artistic expressions. In the Dominican Republic, however, Law 210-19 and Article 33 of the Constitution make any alteration of the national anthem a criminal offense—punishable by up to 90 days in detention and fines.

The Brutal Awakening of the Diaspora

Castillo Fuertes made the cardinal mistake of many Dominicans abroad: assuming the Dominican Constitution works like the U.S. Constitution—fatal miscalculation.

Law 210-19 exists for a reason. Article 33 is not a suggestion—it is binding law. Altering the national anthem has clear legal consequences: up to three months in prison. These are not whimsical rules; they are the legal backbone of a sovereign state.

But here is the question: why don’t Dominicans abroad know this? Because many have forgotten—or never learned—the legal reality of the country they left.

The diaspora often lives in a dangerous bubble—importing debates and liberties that simply do not exist here. What in Brooklyn is “artistic performance,” in Santo Domingo, a criminal act. This disconnect is no accident; it is the byproduct of a nation that exports citizens without educating them on its constitutional boundaries.

The Constitution We Do Not Read

Wilson Gómez Ramírez, president of the Instituto Duartiano, was blunt: “This behavior deserves categorical rejection from the Instituto Duartiano; we will proceed according to the law and closely follow the case until an exemplary sentence is obtained.” He confirmed that he will file a formal complaint with the Attorney General’s Office.

Juan Pablo Uribe, president of the Comisión Permanente de Efemérides Patrias, echoed the sentiment: “The Public Ministry can act on its own initiative. I say this as president of the Comisión Permanente de Efemérides Patrias, because Law 210-19, which regulates the use of the national symbols of the Dominican Republic, so provides.”

How many Dominicans have actually read the Constitution? How many understand that Article 33 protects national symbols with the same force that Article 49 proclaims freedom of expression?

Here lies our national hypocrisy: we celebrate rights we do not fully understand, and enforce laws we rarely question. The Dominican Constitution is not the U.S. First Amendment. It does not work the same. It does not protect the same. It does not forgive the same.

While Dominicans abroad assume they can bring home their new liberties like souvenirs, those inside the country know certain topics remain legally untouchable—national symbols among them. Respecting those limits is not optional; it’s the law.

Freedom of Expression—With an Asterisk

Let’s be brutally honest: in the Dominican Republic, freedom of expression exists—within constitutional boundaries.

You can criticize the government (to a point). You can question policy (some of it). You can protest (if it’s not too disruptive). But you don’t touch the anthem. You don’t challenge Christian morality. You don’t confront the official narrative of “Dominicanness.”

That’s not pure freedom of expression—it’s expression on a license. And when that license is revoked, the Dominican state has no shortage of tools to put you back in your place.

A Clash of Worlds, a Question of Law

The backlash against Castillo Fuertes was visceral—but also legally grounded. It captured the central tension in the country: outside voices clashing with internal laws that, whether one likes it or not, still carry full force.

The message was unmistakable: If you left, stay in your lane. Don’t come here to rewrite us with foreign ideas.

This internal xenophobia—Dominicans rejecting Dominicans for being “too Americanized”—exposes a deep insecurity about national identity. Is our Dominican identity so fragile that it cannot survive a poetic parody?

What’s clear is that Dominican law applies to all Dominicans, wherever they may live.

The Question that Defines Us

What kind of country are we?

Are we the democracy we proclaim, or a society that tolerates dissent only when it doesn’t upset the majority?

Are we the land of freedom we market abroad, or a nation where certain topics are sealed off from debate?

The answer is in how we treat those who challenge us. And so far, the pattern is clear: we silence them.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Freedom of expression exists in the Dominican Republic—but with an asterisk: Terms and conditions apply. Not valid for sacred subjects. Subject to moral and patriotic approval.

As long as we pretend to be free when we clearly are not, we will keep producing more Yoseli Castillos—Dominicans who leave thinking they left a free country and come back to find it never was.

The question remains: when will we be honest about the kind of democracy we truly are?

Because a country that can’t withstand a parody of its anthem might not deserve to sing it with such pride.

DISCLAIMER: The views expressed by the author are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of ESENDOM.