Buffer zones are undermining free speech in Britain

Given the UK’s long and proud history of free speech, it is not surprising that for a long time the public has simply taken that freedom for granted. To ask whether free speech is important would be like asking whether clean water is important. Of course it is, but it is hardly a political issue. No longer. 

A poll commissioned by the civil liberties organisation Liberty and conducted by More in Common found that over half of Britons believe the government protects only speech with which it agrees. Only 16 per cent believe Andy Burnham cares more about protecting free speech than his predecessor, Keir Starmer. Most tellingly for the party hacks constantly number-crunching vote projections, 58 per cent say a political party’s position on free speech would affect how they vote at the next general election. 

These findings, published in September, should trouble a Prime Minister who is yet to throw off his predecessor’s “two-tier” reputation. For an example of the behaviour that has pushed free speech back to the centre of political discourse, Mr Burnham need look no further than the case of Clive Johnston, a retired pastor in Northern Ireland. It offers a reminder of how easily the state can abuse vaguely worded laws to target peaceful expression.

This week, at the Court of Appeal in Belfast, the 78-year-old Pastor Johnston appealed his conviction under Northern Ireland’s abortion “buffer zone” legislation. 

In July 2024, he held a small outdoor Sunday service near Causeway Hospital in Coleraine. He preached from John 3:16, the familiar Gospel verse beginning, “For God so loved the world…” His sermon did not even mention abortion — yet he was convicted in May and fined £450.

The prosecution’s case was that his conduct within the designated zone could have “influenced” passers-by attending abortion services at the hospital, thereby breaking the rules of the “buffer zone” law — a legal perimeter around 150m of every abortion facility which censors abortion-related protest.

Of course, all can agree that genuine harassment and violence are unwelcome in such an area, and in fact, such actions have been illegal under various statutes for many years. But these new censorship zones — now all across the UK — even ban mere “influence”. Just how widely this applies is now being tested in the courts. Specifically, does the law apply to the mere expression of Christian values, even if abortion is not mentioned? 

The appeal assessed the application of the law to the particular facts of Clive Johnston’s case, including his rights to freedom of expression and religion. We now await the ruling.

One need not agree with Clive’s religious beliefs to recognise the crucial question his case raises. If peaceful faith-based speech can result in a criminal conviction because of its location and perceived potential effect on a hypothetical person, where does that leave basic free expression?

This isn’t a one-off case. In Birmingham, Isabel Vaughan-Spruce will soon face trial for praying even silently near an abortion facility — expressing no words at all. In Bournemouth, an army veteran was convicted as a criminal for stopping to pray across the road from a clinic for just a few minutes, in memory of a child he had lost. 

Since Johnston was first convicted, Northern Ireland’s police force has even gone so far as to state that it could be a crime to merely carry a Bible through the public area of a hospital, lest it “influence” someone’s decision — or to pray with a willing patient, lest someone overhears such an expression of faith! The gross ambiguity over these wide-ranging rules makes it near impossible for clergy to carry out pastoral visits with unwell congregants.

The consequences reach beyond Britain’s domestic politics. In April, the U.S. State Department weighed in on the case, describing Johnston’s prosecution as an “egregious violation” of freedom of expression and religious liberty, and a “concerning departure” from the shared values of the US and UK. It said it was monitoring the case. The episode — and wider prosecution of praying or preaching Christians — has become a point of friction between long-standing allies who claim to share a commitment to individual liberty.

Britain cannot expect its international reputation to be insulated from the way it treats its own citizens. Its diplomats regularly defend political and religious freedom overseas, including at the United Nations. In a statement this month, Britain’s representative to the UN Third Committee condemned governments that use law, technology and state power to “silence dissent”. The authority of these words depends on Britain demonstrating that it takes them seriously at home.

Neither Mr Burnham nor the Northern Ireland politicians that introduced the egregious law under which Pastor Clive Johnston has been prosecuted need to agree with his Christian message. But they all should make it clear that speech does not lose its protection merely because those in power dislike its content. When more than half the population believe free speech is protected selectively, the problem is no longer confined to the activists, religious groups or political factions most directly affected. It becomes a question of trust in the institutions charged with protecting everyone’s rights.