Selective Outrage and the Illusion of Principle

We like to imagine that British justice is blind – steady, impartial, above the political fray. In truth, she’s squinting through the blindfold, nervously checking what’s trending before reaching for the scales. Because these days, justice isn’t a matter of law – it’s a matter of optics.

Start with Lucy Connolly. She tweeted that migrant hotels should be firebombed. It was vile, dangerous, and rooted in a political climate that has already seen real-world arson attempts. She was arrested, prosecuted, and sentenced to 31 months in prison. No debate. No talk of context. And rightly so.

Now jump to Bob Vylan, who stood on stage at Glastonbury and chanted “Death to the IDF!”, to thunderous applause – and a national broadcast via the BBC. A blunt chant, delivered mid-war, about an occupying foreign military force. Not subtle. Not metaphorical. And yet: no arrest. No prosecution. Just a limp statement from the organisers and the police “reviewing footage,” which is official-speak for “we’ll do nothing unless it makes the Mail.” Although the police are now pursuing a criminal investigation, but probably under pressure. Farage, ever the opportunist, says a vote for Reform means taking your country back from these lunatics but, as usual, is light on what Reform would actually do.

And so enters the battered workhorse of British hypocrisy: Free Speech. Suddenly, everyone’s a freedom absolutist – but only for their side. The right, who shrieked about Connolly being silenced, are now demanding Vylan’s arrest. Chris Philp, Shadow Minister for Crime, wants him prosecuted immediately. Labour, meanwhile, offered the usual blend of hand-wringing and inaction: Wes Streeting called the chant “appalling”; Keir Starmer said it shouldn’t have been aired. But neither backed prosecution. Because free speech, it seems, must be defended – but only if it doesn’t damage your demographic.

This isn’t a defence of the chant. But let’s be clear: “Death to the IDF” has layers. Like “Death to America”, it can be read as a call for the end of a system – not the people within it. Criticism of the IDF is not, in and of itself, anti-semitic – though many would like it to be, because conflating criticism of Israeli military policy with hatred of Jews serves a powerful rhetorical function: it shuts down dissent. But context is everything – and screaming it from a stage, in the middle of a conflict, without explanation, pushes it from protest into provocation. Especially when, in the UK, many conflate the Israeli military with Jewish identity – and the line between rage and hate becomes razor-thin.

So where’s the line? Because while politicians were clutching pearls over lyrics, an Israeli airstrike hit a beachfront café in Gaza, killing at least 20 civilians. No slogans. No chants. Just smoke, fire, and the kind of carnage that never makes it into the outrage cycle. We're criminalising metaphor, while real people die in cafes. And no minister calls that “appalling.” No front page calls for a tribunal. Because those deaths – though real – are inconvenient.

And then there’s Palestine Action, now designated a terrorist organisation. Not for murder. Not for bombs. But for criminal damage – including to an RAF plane. Serious? Yes. Terrorism? That depends – not on legal principle, but on whether the government needs to look tough this week. So let’s review:

• Chanting for the destruction of a military organisation = edgy performance.
• Smashing up defence equipment in protest = terrorism.
• Bombing a café full of civilians = diplomatic silence.

This isn’t about justice. It’s about managing dissent. The Tories wrap themselves in free speech when defending statues and slurs – but not when someone shouts the wrong slogan at Glasto. Labour speak in grave tones about balance and standards, but want laws that equate paint and glue with terrorism. Between them, they’ve turned principle into PR.

And what about actual free speech? The kind that matters when it’s inconvenient? That’s gone. If your speech offends the wrong people, it’s criminal. If it offends the right people, it’s brave. We haven’t abandoned free speech – we’ve rebranded it as a subscription service, where your access depends on your alignment.

Apply the law evenly and you’d need to arrest poets, protesters, punk bands, Ukrainians, and half the cast of Glastonbury. But we won’t. Because what we really have isn’t the rule of law. It’s a reputation management strategy, dressed up in legalese.

Connolly goes to prison. Vylan goes viral. Palestine Action is banned. Gaza burns. And the public is told: you can be angry, but only in the direction we approve of.

This isn’t justice. It’s theatre. And the standing ovation is already priced in.