Britain’s De Facto Blasphemy Laws Have Been Decades in the Making

The overturning of Hamit Coskun’s conviction for burning a Quran during a protest shows Britain still doesn’t have blasphemy laws. But in truth a fear of violent reprisals from extreme Muslims has created a de facto blasphemy law for decades, says Clarissa Hard in the Spectator. Here’s an excerpt.

In a survey that surprised no one, research conducted by Ipsos UK found that talking freely about Islam is “feared more than any other religion”. 38% feel they have to self-censor when talking about Islamic topics. At the same time, around 71% of British Muslims feel that people should be sensitive about causing offence when discussing their religion.

The reluctance to speak openly about Islam partly stems from a people-pleasing instinct not to ruffle feathers. But it’s largely because the threat of violence, even death, stalks blasphemy against Islam.

There’s the Batley Grammar scandal in 2021, where a religious-studies teacher at the West Yorkshire school, keen to spark a conversation about religious extremism, showed his pupils the 2015 Charlie Hebdo cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad.

A group called the Muslim Action Forum helped organise protests outside the school gates More than 120 imams and Islamic scholars signed an open letter, calling on all “civilised members of our society to unequivocally condemn” the teacher. (Call me old-fashioned, but “civilised members of our society” do not intimidate teachers over cartoons.)

Death threats were issued and the teacher was swiftly suspended. He and his family were forced into hiding, where they remain today. As far as we can see, nothing is being done to remedy their plight.

Headteacher Gary Kibble apologised “unequivocally”, which is ironic given the school motto is “bravely not cowardly”. Tracey Brabin – then Labour MP for Batley and Spen, now Mayor of West Yorkshire – welcomed the apology and condemned those who sought to “fan the flames of this incident”. Teaching unions were shamefully silent.

A de facto blasphemy law was enforced in Batley. But can you blame those who capitulated? A terrifying precedent had been set just a few months before, when French schoolteacher Samuel Paty was beheaded outside his own school for showing pupils the same cartoons.

This unholy alliance between religious intolerance and institutional cowardice was reinforced at Kettlethorpe High School in Wakefield in 2023. A teenage boy brought a Quran into school and during a tussle in the playground, the cover sustained a slight tear and some pages were scuffed.

What should have been a trivial incident soon escalated. Usman Ali, a local politician, called on the government to punish this “terrible provocation”. In an extraordinary turn of events, the boy was suspended along with his friends and received death threats.

Headteacher Tudor Griffiths issued a quailing statement reassuring the community that “the holy book remains fully intact” even if the boys “did not treat the Quran with the respect” it deserved. Kettlethorpe, he claimed, is “an inclusive school where we want all our pupils to feel safe and secure”. What about the pupil who was threatened with death for dropping a book?

A kangaroo court was convened in a mosque, where police sat alongside community leaders, a local councillor and an imam. Facing an audience of outraged men, the boy’s seemingly petrified mother had to don a makeshift hijab, apologise abjectly on behalf of her son, and beg for her family’s safety.

Violence was avoided in Wakefield, but it seems only by surrender to seventh-century Arabic notions of blasphemy. Freedom of conscience was thrown under the bus and death threats went unpunished. Such incidents have a profoundly censorious effect, rippling across society.

This culture of fear has been decades in the making. In 1989, a chill wind blew across Britain when Ayatollah Khomeini condemned Salman Rushdie to death for writing The Satanic Verses.

Worth reading in full.