Freedom Of Speech In Post-Riot London

Announcing a 30-day blanket ban on marches across five London boroughs (Tower Hamlets, Newham, Waltham Forest, Islington and Hackney), Home Secretary Theresa May yesterday derailed plans for English Defence League (EDL) demonstrations on 3 September.  Following a request from Scotland Yard Acting Commissioner Tim Godwin, May took the decision to ban ‘all marches’ after having ‘carefully considered the legal tests in the Public Order Act and balanced rights to protest against the need to ensure local communities and property are protected’.  Is this a step too far, illegitimately restricting free speech, or is there a genuine call for pre-emptive action on grounds of preventing public disorder?

Adding another dimension to the already thorny trade-off between liberty and security is the similar ban that May sanctioned in Telford on 13 August amidst similar fears of disorder.  The Met, citing receipt of ‘specific intelligence’ which led it to believe that ‘serious public disorder, violence and damage could be caused by the presence of marches in these areas’, suggested that a ban was the most effective avoidance strategy and cemented a dangerous precedent.  With many such demonstrations resulting in some degree of violence, both with opposition demonstrators and amongst EDL sympathisers, the argument that all future EDL demonstrations should be outlawed on similar grounds will gain momentum.  This would be a clear violation of free speech principles; while the outlook being championed may be abhorrent, such a reaction, flying in the face of liberal democratic values, would prove equally objectionable.  Furthermore, drawing attention to the ban not only allows the EDL to portray an image of a subjugated group, but also retracts some of the rope, through prevention of negative press coverage, afforded to the group with which to hang itself.  In this respect, an outright ban appears counterintuitive.

With Stephen Lennon, the EDL's founder (also known by the name Tommy Robinson), proclaiming that the EDL would ‘still show up’ in Tower Hamlets, vowing to hold a static demonstration and ‘have our voices heard’, the potential exists for any disorder to be amplified by the ban.  While a statement on the EDL website claimed that ‘[n]owadays, the anti-extremism aims of our organisation are clear, and there is no reason to think that an EDL demonstration would contain any dangerous elements’, such contentions are easily refuted by Lennon recently being charged with common assault following an altercation at a demonstration.  Similarly, the assertion is fundamentally flawed insofar as the EDL was formed with the specific objective of protesting against the alleged spread of Islamic extremism; with Tower Hamlets playing home to the sizeable East London Mosque and a large Muslim population, any such action is destined to stoke tensions unless it is starved of the oxygen of publicity.  Indeed, Lennon has already acknowledged that ‘the police have told us that it will be the most hostile environment they have seen. … They say marching through there will be absolute suicide’.  The question then arises as to whether a static meeting similar to that which eventually took place in Telford would pose a greater threat of public disorder than the initial demonstration, with the latter at least having the strategic benefit of wayfaring brevity.

It is indisputably true that disorder in London, in the wake of recent events, would be even more unwelcome than usual.  Nonetheless, rumours that budget constraints limiting further police overtime played a part in deliberations, coupled with favourable consideration for a police force under immense strain, would be detestable if proven.  Indeed, with the threat of a static demonstration, about which the Met are powerless to act, a visible police presence will likely be required regardless.   Equally, spurious links between Anders Behring Breivik and the EDL should not be allowed to carry any weight: many a convicted criminal will undoubtedly have (proven) sympathies to legitimate political groupings.

It would appear, then, that Peter Tatchell was accurate in labelling the blanket ban a ‘complete overreaction’, suggesting that such action has the potential to be vastly counter-productive and correctly asserting that anti-democratic groups can only be defeated through ‘exposing… bigoted and violent views’.  (However, his favouring of ‘mass counter protests’ would perhaps be undesirable in this instance, given the history of EDL disorder and the ethnic composition of the area in question.)  Indeed, the key to overcoming such divisive views in the long run is a policy of engagement and education, promoting tolerance of all views and allowing those based on prejudice and intolerance to be shown as such.  As Thomas Jefferson famously declared, ‘error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it’.

The Right to Free Tweets

The right to free speech, unencumbered by censorship or threat of judicial action, is widely considered to be a fundamental tenet of liberal democratic society.  For liberals such as J. S. Mill, such freedom must necessarily accommodate all ideas being discussed to the point of logical denouement, unconstrained by parameters of social sensitivity (barring caveats concerning causing tangible harm to others).  This claim to freedom of speech is recognised as a human right under Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which affords free expression to all equally.  

While the ideal of unlimited free speech does not, in reality, exist anywhere in the world – “hate crimes”, for example, are rightly condemned – the extent to which speech is suppressed is a useful tool in demarcating and identifying political arrangements.  For instance, communist states such as China and North Korea, as well as many authoritarian dictatorships across the Middle East and North Africa, implement such stringent controls as the so-called Great Firewall of China.  Liberal democracies such as the US and Britain, on the other hand, tend to implement far fewer restrictions.  However, recent developments suggest that the principle of free speech is being gradually eroded in Britain.

The instance of Paul Chambers is a case in point.  Due to depart for Northern Ireland from Robin Hood Airport in South Yorkshire, Chambers tweeted a message in the early hours of 6 January 2010 having heard reports of a snow-induced closure.  The result was that a cluster of officers from South Yorkshire Police, including plain-clothes detectives and anti-terrorist agents, arrived at Chambers’ place of work.  Rather than extolling the virtues of refraining from humour concerning the destruction of airports and delivering a slap on the wrist, Chambers was arrested under anti-terrorist legislation, facing the threat of prosecution under provisions aimed at bomb hoaxers.  Passing her judgement, Judge Jacqueline Davies proclaimed: ‘Anyone in this country in the present climate of terrorist threats, especially at airports, could not be unaware of the possible consequences’.  She also insisted that the message was ‘menacing in its content and obviously so’.  This incident calls into question the extent to which freedom of speech continues to exist in Britain, testing the boundaries within which one may legitimately exercise free expression.

The Chambers case is noteworthy for several reasons, not least for the clear lack of common sense on display and the disproportionately heavy penalty handed down.  It is important to recognise that the tweet sent by Chambers, while aired via Twitter’s public network, was directed at a specified individual.  Equally, at the time, Chambers had in the region of 690 followers.  Thus, only a limited number of people would have had access to the message, arguably placing the communication in the private, rather than the public, sphere.  Davies’ assertion in passing judgement that an ‘ordinary person’ reading the tweet would see genuine menace ‘and be alarmed’ is therefore something of a moot point; not only would such an ordinary person have to make a concerted effort to uncover the message, the spirit of the message is clearly not that of an enraged terrorist.  Indeed, similar antics are commonplace, but joking that ‘I’ll strangle my boss if I have to work late’ does not often result in deployment of homicide officers.  While the topic of the tweet in question was undoubtedly risque (Al Murray, while supporting Chambers’ right to free speech, labelled a recent benefit gig the “Save Paul Chambers from his own stupid destiny event”), this is not to say that the issue should be censored.  After all, the liberty of others was not infringed.

Chambers’ conviction under Section 127 of the Communications Act 2003, and the failure of the subsequent appeal, was a second cause of dissension, both on the microblogging site itself and among civil liberties lawyers, because of the inherent implications for the online community. The CPS’s invoking of Section 127 caused controversy; Chambers’ barrister, Stephen Ferguson, highlighted that the legislation was aimed at the prevention of nuisance calls – originally intended to protect female telephonists at the General Post Office in the 1930s – rather than being specific  anti-terrorist legislation, which would require strong evidence of intent.  Indeed, the CPS interpret violations of Section 127 as being strict liability offences.  That is to say, the guilty mindset (i.e. mens rea) is not required to be proven in order to bring a prosecution.  This is particularly convenient, as proving any harmful intention to send a menacing communication beyond any reasonable doubt would be hugely troublesome in this instance.  However, that the CPS regards Chambers’ tweet as intentionally menacing could have severe repercussions for anyone partaking in similar activities, be it tweeting, emailing, or blogging: using the CPS’s logic, repeating the original message could be construed as sending a menacing communication.  This is a severe impediment to the right of free speech, conjuring immediate mental comparisons with totalitarian regimes seeking to suppress such liberties.  

Such efforts to erode guarantees of free speech are alarming, and have, rightly, not be endured without protest.  Chambers’ conviction proved to be the catalyst for a pro-rights trend on Twitter.  In an act of defiance aiming not only to highlight the infringement of rights but also to support Chambers in his appeal, the #IAmSpartacus movement was born, inspired by a scene in the 1960s film depicting slaves standing up one by one to claim ‘I am Spartacus’ in order to save their fellow gladiator from detection.  Thousands re-tweeted Chambers’ original message, including Davina McCall, David Mitchell, Marcus Brigstocke and Stephen Fry, with #IAmSpartacus becoming the most popular worldwide subject trending on 12 November 2010.  Indeed, Fry recently vowed that he was ‘prepared to go to prison’ in making a stand for the freedom of speech, arguing that Chambers’ tweet was an example of Britain’s tradition of self-deprecating humour and banter, as well as pledging to pay whatever fines and costs the courts may issue against him so as to enable a further appeal to be made.  The breadth of support Chambers has received is encouraging, demonstrating that the desire for free speech continues unabated; any inconveniences encountered as a result of too much freedom are intrinsically preferable to those associated with having too little.

As an interesting comparison, Sarah Tonner’s piece in The Guardian highlights the example of Kenneth Tong, who utilised Twitter to promote a “health plan” he referred to as ‘managed anorexia’, venerating the achievement of “size zero” and urging the use of self-hate as a stimulus to achieve this result.  Having already achieved fame (of sorts) through appearances in Big Brother, Tong’s capacity for reaching a wide audience is incalculably greater than Chambers’.  By equal measure, given the target audience, there is a substantial potential that such ideas could be taken at face value, causing immeasurable harm (Tong has since insisted that the incident was a hoax).  By comparison, Tong stood to cause much greater damage than Chambers.  Should Tong have also been prosecuted to limit his ability to publicly endorse such concepts?  Ultimately, the answer is no; any rational being can see the idiocy of such ideas.  Preventing their dissemination and discussion, however, would amount to an intrusion on individual liberty.  This in itself would be intolerable.