Lucy Connolly is not a political prisoner

New Statesman​

6 days ago

Illustration by Bea Crespo / Ikon Images
The more I read about Lucy Connolly's 31-month sentence for inciting racial hatred, the less I think it is a matter of freedom of speech at all. Ever since Connolly, then 41, was charged and received a lengthy prison sentence for posting a vile message on X in the hours after three young girls were murdered in Southport last July, the case has divided opinion.
On the right, Connolly's imprisonment is taken as yet more evidence of a two-tier policing and justice system that disproportionately punishes white British people more harshly than others. Those on the left, meanwhile, say those supporting Connolly really want the 'right to be racist'. Neither are correct. Since losing an appeal to reduce her sentence on 20 May, the row has intensified (with Boris Johnson, Nigel Farage and Robert Jenrick all demanding her release) and gone global. Donald Trump's White House is 'monitoring this matter', as it 'remains concerned about infringements on freedom of expression'.
Yet, the case says far more about our criminal justice system than it does about our ability to speak freely. That one Labour MP, Mary Glindon, has publicly voiced her concerns is perhaps an indication that the case is not a culture wars issue but rather one of fairness, humanity and compassion.
'In my opinion, Lucy doesn't pose a threat to the public,' Glindon told the Telegraph – whose columnist Allison Pearson has consistently raised Connolly's case. 'She seems to be paying a heavy price for what she did.' That more from Labour's ranks have not spoken out is perhaps down to the official parliamentary call for Connolly's release coming from former Reform MP Rupert Lowe, rather than genuine belief she should remain in prison.
In July 2024 Connolly vented her outrage on social media after three young girls were murdered at a dance class in Southport. Rumours had circulated that the perpetrator was an illegal immigrant, who had arrived by boat, and was most likely motivated by Islamism. 'Mass deportation now,' Connolly wrote. 'Set fire to all the fucking hotels full of the bastards for all I care.' 'If that makes me racist, so be it,' she added.
Make no mistake, these comments were criminal. As such, it is unsurprising that Connolly was arrested and charged under Section 19 of the Public Order Act 1986 for publishing material intending to stir up racial hatred. I am a staunch advocate of freedom of speech. Moreover, there are genuine threats to this freedom in Britain right now – in our universities, the arts, publishing and elsewhere. But freedom of speech does not, and legally in the UK never has, allowed for calling for harm to be done to others. This was not merely 'offensive'; it called for people to be attacked. As Glindon said, the post was 'vile in content'.
Connolly herself appeared to recognise this. She apologised and deleted the post within four hours, during which it had been viewed 310,000 times. The finer details are contested. The Crown Prosecution Service said at the time of sentencing that, 'The prosecution case included evidence which showed that racist tweets were sent out from Mrs Connolly's X account both in the weeks and months before the Southport attacks – as well as in the days after.' Connolly has argued that she was enraged by the murder, having lost a child herself when he was just 19 months old.
Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe
Arguments, like those made by the former prime minister Boris Johnson, that British citizens are now lying 'awake in the small hours waiting for the police to knock on your door – just because you were so foolish as to say something a bit off colour online', are absurd. His invoking of the Gestapo, KGB, and the Stasi are beyond ridicule. He should know better than this. It was not 'spies and informers' who told 'the authorities' what Connolly had said – she posted it voluntarily to thousands of people.
There is immense danger, too, in the suggestion that Connolly is some kind of 'political prisoner'. That those on the right, traditionally defenders of law and order and the independence of our judiciary, should invoke this argument, is worrying. It takes us back to where this whole story began: the spreading of misinformation that fuels civil unrest.
There is no evidence that I can see that the government has personally intervened in the sentencing of Connolly – or anyone else during or after last summer's riots for that matter. But it is justified to ask whether something is going wrong with sentencing in our criminal justice system. On the one hand, there are certainly others charged last summer with incitement on social media, who received similar sentences to Connolly: 26 year-old Tyler Kay was sentenced to 38 months in prison for posting messages that called for mass deportation and for people to set fire to hotels housing asylum seekers; Jordan Parlour, 28, was jailed for 20 months after calling for an attack on a hotel in Leeds known to house asylum seekers.
The comparisons being drawn with completely different crimes – most notably sexual offences – which have received lenient sentences, are not relevant. While it may be the case that the justice system is too lenient on many sex offenders, it does not follow that Connolly is therefore a free speech martyr, just that our sentencing of certain crimes is flawed.
On the other hand, there are other (more relevant) examples which can and do lead one to question whether Connolly's treatment has been overly harsh. Philip Prescot received a lesser sentence – 28 months – for being involved in rioting outside a Southport mosque and throwing missiles at the police.
Most notable, perhaps, is the former Labour councillor Ricky Jones, who was charged in the aftermath of the riots with encouraging violent disorder after being filmed, according to the CPS, of encouraging 'others to act violently towards far-right protestors'. Jones described other protestors as 'disgusting Nazi fascists', adding, 'We need to cut their throats and get rid of them.' While initially remanded in custody, Jones was later released on bail, and he is yet to stand trial. He has accepted he spoke the words, but denied knowing the offence of violent disorder would be committed.
Compare this treatment to Connolly, who pleaded guilty, but was refused bail, and has now been imprisoned for seven months (she went to jail in October 2024). Her requests to be released on temporary licence have been turned down, despite it being highly unlikely she poses a risk to anyone. It is irresponsible to lurch to the suggestion, as some commentators have, that the difference in treatment can be explained by race. Connolly is white; Jones is Asian, while the 'throats' to be cut were those of white men.
From interviews conducted with Lucy Connolly, it seems that prior to the summer of 2024 she had a normal life. She has a 12-year-old daughter who now longs to have her mum back home. She has no prior police record, and has suffered the loss of a child, resulting in chronic anxiety.
On a personal level, I do feel some sympathy for her. I cannot imagine anything worse than losing a child, nor being away from the ones I have for such a long time. What Connolly wrote amounted to a crime. She is no 'hostage of the British state'. But sentencing is not just about punishment. Judges also consider what would be served by sending someone to prison – both personally, and for society more generally. It seems to me that Lucy Connolly has done her time. There is no merit to keeping her away from her family any longer. For those who have no sympathy with her, bear this in mind: the longer she remains imprisoned, the more her case will be used by those who wish to sow division and hatred in our country.
[See more: Nigel Farage's political personality disorder]
Related