On a brisk Friday morning in London, the Woolwich Crown Court became the stage for a legal drama that has gripped music fans, free speech advocates, and political observers on both sides of the Irish Sea. The case: terrorism charges against Kneecap rapper Mo Chara, whose real name is Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh. The outcome: a resounding dismissal, not for lack of controversy, but for a technical misstep that left the prosecution’s case in tatters and the band’s supporters erupting in cheers.
The saga began in November 2024, when Ó hAnnaidh—part of the provocative Belfast hip-hop trio Kneecap—allegedly draped himself in a Hezbollah flag and shouted support for both Hezbollah and Hamas during a concert at the O2 Forum in Kentish Town, London. The incident, which took place against the backdrop of renewed violence in Gaza, quickly attracted the attention of British authorities. By May 2025, Ó hAnnaidh was charged under the Terrorism Act, which criminalizes the display of symbols or articles that could arouse reasonable suspicion of support for proscribed organizations.
But as the courtroom filled with supporters and bandmates—including Naoise Ó Cairealláin (Móglaí Bap) and J.J. Ó Dochartaigh (DJ Próvaí)—it became clear that the legal battle would hinge not on what happened that night in London, but on the fine print of British law. The prosecution’s Achilles’ heel? The timing of the charge itself.
Judge Paul Goldspring, presiding over the case, outlined the crux of the matter: the Terrorism Act stipulates a strict six-month window for bringing charges of this nature, and the defense argued that the charge against Ó hAnnaidh was filed one day too late. According to The Irish Times, Ó hAnnaidh’s lawyers pointed out that official consent from the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) and the Attorney General was not secured until May 22, 2025—precisely six months and a day after the alleged offense. The prosecution, for their part, insisted that the charge was valid as of May 21, when Ó hAnnaidh was notified. But Judge Goldspring sided with the defense.
“I find that these proceedings were not instituted in the correct form, lacking the necessary DPP and AG consent within the six-month statutory time limit,” Goldspring declared, as reported by Anadolu. “The charge is unlawful and null and this court has no jurisdiction to try the charge.” The courtroom erupted in applause, with supporters and band members visibly moved by the decision.
For Ó hAnnaidh, the victory was as much political as it was personal. Addressing reporters and supporters outside the court, he said, “This entire process was never about me. It was never about any threat to the public; it was never about terrorism—a word used by your government to discredit people you oppress. It was always about Gaza, about what happens if you dare to speak up. Your attempts to silence us have failed because we’re right and you’re wrong.” (Rolling Stone)
The band echoed this sentiment on social media, posting, “We said we would fight you in your court and we would win. We have. If anyone on this planet is guilty of terrorism, it is the British state. Free Palestine!” (Billboard) The statement underscored Kneecap’s reputation for unfiltered, pro-Palestinian activism—a stance that has both won them admirers and drawn sharp criticism from political leaders and commentators.
The legal technicality that led to the dismissal was more than a mere paperwork error. As the BBC and The Irish Times detailed, the prosecution’s failure to secure timely consent from both the DPP and Attorney General went to the heart of the court’s jurisdiction. Without those approvals within the statutory window, Goldspring explained, the court simply could not proceed. “The court had no jurisdiction to try the charge,” he said, making it clear that the ruling was not a comment on Ó hAnnaidh’s innocence or guilt, but a matter of legal procedure.
Yet the impact of the case has rippled far beyond the courtroom. In Canada, the fallout was immediate: Parliamentary Secretary Vince Gasparro cited the case while announcing Kneecap’s ban from entering the country. Scheduled shows in Toronto and Vancouver were canceled, with ticket holders notified of full refunds. Gasparro accused the group of amplifying political violence and supporting terrorist organizations, claims that Kneecap has denied, stating they received no official communication about the ban but saw their tour dates disappear regardless (CBC News).
This was not the first time Kneecap found itself at the center of controversy. Their performance at Coachella in April 2025, which featured explicit criticism of Israel’s war in Gaza, reignited debate over the boundaries of protest and public speech. The group’s statement after that show highlighted their concern for “murdered children” in the Palestinian territories—comments that resonated with some and infuriated others. Their autumn U.S. tour was also scrapped, further fueling accusations that the band was being punished for its political views.
Nor have Kneecap’s troubles been limited to international travel bans. In Britain, the group faced backlash after video surfaced of a previous concert in which a member appeared to say, “The only good Tory is a dead Tory. Kill your local MP.” The band later apologized to the families of Conservative MP David Amess and Labour MP Jo Cox, both of whom were murdered in separate attacks. The apology, however, did little to quell the perception that Kneecap thrives on provocation.
As the dust settles on the Woolwich Crown Court decision, the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) has said it is “reviewing the decision of the court carefully,” leaving open the possibility of an appeal (Rolling Stone). The Metropolitan Police, too, are mulling the implications of the ruling, acknowledging that it could affect how similar cases are handled in the future.
For now, though, Mo Chara and his bandmates are free to celebrate a hard-fought legal win. Whether that victory will translate into greater freedom for the band to perform—and to speak their minds—remains to be seen. But on this particular Friday, at least, the music played on, and the message was clear: sometimes, the letter of the law can be mightier than the controversy that surrounds it.
