August 25 2025 - 10:00am
One of Britain’s most high-profile convicts is free. After a year in prison, Lucy Connolly is home with her family, and she has come out swinging. In an interview she asserted that she had been a political prisoner and that she is considering legal action against Northamptonshire Police. She was extremely critical of the Prime Minister and understandably bitter at the criminal justice system, stating that the authorities would have kept her in prison forever, if they could.
That may or may not be true, but her argument that she was a political prisoner is compelling. She pleaded guilty, sure enough, as countless centrist dads have pointed out at tiresome length. But plenty of people have pleaded guilty to offenses of which they are not in fact guilty. Confessions can be coerced in various ways, as Leftist campaigners against miscarriages of justice have been quick to recognize in other cases. The judge’s sentencing remarks included the assertion that “it is a strength of our society that it is both diverse and inclusive”, an extraordinary political interjection.
Then of course there is the point that an outcome may be legally satisfactory but morally repugnant. There are such things as unjust laws, and Section 19 of the 1986 Public Order Act, under which Connolly was convicted, is arguably a very loosely drafted piece of legislation, which provides the state with far too much leeway in punishing dissident speech. It criminalizes written material which is merely “abusive or insulting”, and does not even require proof of intent to stir up racial hatred. This gives the police and courts extensive power to interpret harmless material in a criminal way.
We must note too the political atmosphere of last July and August, when Keir Starmer himself was calling for harsh exemplary punishments to be handed down, and pressure was being applied to limit bail for those charged in connection with the riots (by way of comparison, sex offenders and other serious criminals are routinely granted bail).
So you will not find much criticism of Connolly here. Her tweet was both foolish and inflammatory, widely seen, but it was posted and deleted well before the riots began. It was clearly an expression of frustration and exasperation from a mother — herself a bereaved parent — who had just seen the news about the stabbing of three young girls. The Crown’s case was never tested in court, but counsel for the prosecution would certainly have struggled to prove any direct link to any real-world violence.
All the same, some care might be needed in how the insurgent Right and their media allies handle the case. As Connolly has noted herself, other individuals jailed for speech offenses last summer are still in prison. Influencer Wayne O’Rourke, for example, was given three years for some admittedly antagonistic social media posts. David Spring received 18 months for “violent disorder”, but no actual violence was proven — the substance of the offense was swearing at police officers and some insulting chants (hardly unknown at protests in Britain). They may not be as photogenic as Connolly, but they ought not to be forgotten.
It’s also true that in criticizing excessive punishments for social media posts, Reform and others like them do not seek to excuse or endorse street violence. British politics is entering a highly febrile time, with economic stagnation and the intensifying dysfunction of the post-Blairite multicultural state. There have already been reports of physical attacks on teams putting up union jacks and St George’s crosses.
Change is coming, and it may be revolutionary and far-reaching, but it is not in anyone’s interests to encourage the breakdown of civil peace, however frustrating we might find the authoritarian cruelty of the establishment.
