The Rise of De Facto Blasphemy Laws in the UK, By Richard Miller (Londonistan)
In the United Kingdom, a nation once celebrated for its commitment to free expression, an unsettling trend has emerged: the rise of de facto blasphemy laws, enforced not by statute but by fear, intimidation, and institutional cowardice. While the legal system has, in some instances, upheld the right to free speech, as seen in the recent overturning of Hamit Coskun's conviction for burning a Quran, the broader social landscape tells a different story. A culture of self-censorship, driven by the threat of violence and societal pressure, is stifling open discourse, particularly when it comes to Islam. This post explores the mechanisms and consequences of these unofficial blasphemy laws, drawing on recent incidents to illustrate their chilling effect on British society.
In February 2025, Hamit Coskun burnt a Quran outside the Turkish Consulate in London, an act that led to his conviction for a "religiously aggravated public order offence." The original trial was marked by a troubling narrative that bordered on victim-blaming. The fact that Coskun was attacked by a Muslim man wielding a knife was used against him, with the judge citing this as evidence of his "disorderly behaviour." This reasoning suggested that the provocation of violence justified legal punishment, a dangerous precedent for free speech.
Thankfully, reason prevailed at Southwark Crown Court. On appeal, Mr Justice Bennathan overturned the conviction, affirming that free expression "must include the right to express views that offend, shock or disturb." This ruling was a significant victory, reinforcing that burning a holy book, however offensive to some, remains a protected act of free speech in the UK. Yet, while the law may have sided with Coskun, the broader societal response reveals a deeper issue: the fear of blaspheming against Islam continues to loom large.
The Coskun case is not an isolated incident but part of a broader pattern of de facto blasphemy laws enforced through fear. A 2025 Ipsos UK survey revealed that 38% of Britons feel the need to self-censor when discussing Islam, a figure higher than for any other religion. Meanwhile, 71% of British Muslims believe people should be sensitive to avoid causing offence when discussing their faith. This discrepancy highlights a tension between free expression and a desire to avoid conflict, often exacerbated by the very real threat of violence.
The reluctance to speak openly about Islam stems not only from a polite instinct to avoid ruffling feathers but also from a well-founded fear of retribution. The 2021 Batley Grammar School scandal exemplifies this. A religious-studies teacher, aiming to spark discussion about religious extremism, showed his pupils the 2015 Charlie Hebdo cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad. The backlash was swift and severe. Protests organised by groups like the Muslim Action Forum erupted outside the school, and over 120 imams and Islamic scholars signed a letter condemning the teacher. Death threats followed, forcing the teacher and his family into hiding, where they remain to this day. The school's headteacher, Gary Kibble, issued an apology, and local authorities, including then-MP Tracey Brabin, prioritised de-escalation over defending free speech. Teaching unions, shamefully, remained silent.
This incident echoed the tragic fate of Samuel Paty, the French schoolteacher beheaded in 2020 for showing the same cartoons. The parallels are chilling: in both cases, institutional responses leaned toward appeasement rather than defending the right to free expression. The Batley teacher's plight underscores how fear of violence can enforce a de facto blasphemy law, silencing dissent without formal legislation.
The 2023 Kettlethorpe High School incident further illustrates this trend. A teenage boy brought a Quran to school, and during a playground scuffle, the book's cover was slightly torn. What should have been a minor incident escalated into a crisis. Local politician Usman Ali labelled the act a "terrible provocation," and the boy and his friends were suspended and received death threats. The headteacher, Tudor Griffiths, issued a statement reassuring the community that the Quran remained "fully intact" and emphasised the school's inclusivity, sidestepping the issue of the boy's safety.
In an extraordinary development, a "kangaroo court" was convened at a local mosque, attended by police, community leaders, a councillor, and an imam. The boy's mother, visibly terrified, was compelled to apologise on her son's behalf while wearing a makeshift hijab. This incident highlights how institutional cowardice and community pressure can converge to enforce unwritten blasphemy laws. The failure to punish those issuing death threats while disciplining the boy for a minor act sends a clear message: blasphemy, even unintentional, carries severe consequences.
This culture of fear has deep roots. In 1989, Ayatollah Khomeini's fatwa against Salman Rushdie for writing The Satanic Verses sent shockwaves through Britain, establishing a precedent for violent responses to perceived blasphemy. Decades later, the mechanisms have evolved but the effect remains. Networks of anti-blasphemy activists, coupled with the acquiescence of schools, councils, and police, have created an environment where free expression is curtailed not by law but by the threat of mob retribution and institutional failure to protect dissenters.
Police forces, in particular, have often prioritised appeasing angry crowds over defending free speech. In both the Batley and Kettlethorpe incidents, authorities appeared more concerned with calming community tensions than addressing the death threats issued against individuals. This pattern of capitulation reinforces the power of those who seek to silence criticism of Islam, creating a chilling effect that ripples across society.
Hamit Coskun's legal victory is a step in the right direction, but it is not enough to dismantle the de facto blasphemy laws that have taken hold in the UK. To reclaim free expression, several steps are necessary. First, institutions, schools, police, and local governments, must prioritise defending the right to free speech over appeasing those who threaten violence. This means robust protection for individuals like the Batley teacher and accountability for those who issue threats.
Second, public discourse must normalise open discussion of all religions, including Islam, without fear of retribution. This requires fostering a culture that values debate over dogma and encourages critical thinking over blind sensitivity. Finally, the media and civil society must amplify the voices of those challenging these unofficial blasphemy laws, ensuring that incidents like Batley and Kettlethorpe are not swept under the rug.
The UK stands at a crossroads. While the law may still protect free expression, as seen in the Coskun case, the social reality is one of fear and self-censorship. Without concerted action to confront this culture of intimidation, de facto blasphemy laws will continue to erode the freedoms that define a democratic society. The flames of intolerance must be doused, not with apologies, but with unwavering commitment to the principle that no idea, no matter how sacred, is above scrutiny.
Comments