On September 26, 2025, the usually staid halls of Woolwich Crown Court in London became the unlikely stage for a drama that has rippled far beyond the world of music. Belfast rapper Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh—better known as Mo Chara of the Irish language band Kneecap—walked out of court a free man after a terrorism charge against him was dismissed on a technicality. The decision not only cleared Ó hAnnaidh’s name but also reignited fierce debate about free speech, protest, and the boundaries of political expression in the United Kingdom.
The charge in question stemmed from a Kneecap concert in London in November 2024, where Ó hAnnaidh was accused of displaying a Hezbollah flag on stage. As reported by Rolling Stone US, the incident didn’t draw police attention until months later—April 2025—after the band made international headlines for their outspoken criticism of Israel and the war in Gaza during their set at the Coachella music festival in California. That performance, which featured the projection of the message “F**k Israel, free Palestine,” led to the festival’s organizers cutting Kneecap’s livestream, according to the band.
It wasn’t until May 2025 that the London Metropolitan Police formally charged Ó hAnnaidh with a terrorism offense. But his lawyers quickly moved to have the case dismissed, arguing that the prosecution had missed the six-month statutory deadline for such charges by a single day. The defense further contended that the charge was not properly filed, lacking the required consents from both the Director of Public Prosecutions and the Attorney General. These technical details—often overlooked by the public—became central to the outcome.
Chief Magistrate, Senior District Judge Paul Goldspring, presided over the case. In a ruling that was as much about legal process as about the facts of the case, Judge Goldspring stated, “I find that these proceedings were not instituted in the correct form, lacking the necessary [director of public prosecutions] and [attorney general] consent within the six-month statutory time limit.” He continued, “These proceedings were instituted unlawfully and are null.” As BBC reported, applause erupted in the courtroom as the decision was announced—a rare moment in the typically reserved atmosphere of British legal proceedings.
For Ó hAnnaidh, the case was never just about a flag. Addressing reporters and supporters outside the court, he declared, “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.” His words, reported by the BBC and Rolling Stone US, struck a chord with many who see the case as emblematic of broader tensions over protest, censorship, and the politics of the Middle East.
Kneecap’s manager Daniel Lambert echoed this sentiment, taking to social media to celebrate the victory. “We have won. Liam is a free man. We said we would fight them and win. We did (Twice). Kneecap has NO charges OR convictions in ANY country, EVER,” Lambert posted, as noted by Rolling Stone US. The band’s supporters, and even Ó hAnnaidh’s parents—who hugged him outside the courtroom—expressed delight at the outcome.
The legal technicality that led to the dismissal is not without consequence. The Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) issued a statement acknowledging the decision and noting that it was “reviewing the decision of the court carefully,” leaving open the possibility of an appeal. Meanwhile, a Metropolitan Police spokesperson said, “We are aware of the decision by the court in relation to this case. We will work with the CPS to understand the potential implications of this ruling for us and how that might impact on the processing of such cases in the future.” The case has already prompted scrutiny of how terrorism charges are pursued and the procedures by which they are filed, especially in politically sensitive contexts.
The controversy has had tangible effects on Kneecap’s career. According to AP and Rolling Stone US, the band canceled all 15 dates of a planned U.S. tour in October 2025, citing the ongoing court case. Kneecap has also faced bans and concert cancellations in Canada, Hungary, Germany, and Austria—fallout from their unapologetically political performances and statements. Two videos that resurfaced online in April 2025 further fueled the debate: one featured a band member shouting, “The only good Tory is a dead Tory” and “Kill your local MP,” while another showed a performer—alleged to be Ó hAnnaidh—apparently wearing a Hezbollah flag and shouting, “Up Hamas, up Hezbollah.”
Yet, if the intention of the prosecution or Kneecap’s critics was to silence the band, the effect may have been quite the opposite. As AP observed, the court case has only increased Kneecap’s profile and driven up attendance at their gigs. Their defiant stance and willingness to court controversy have made them symbols of resistance for some, and lightning rods for criticism from others.
The broader context cannot be ignored. Kneecap’s activism and the legal response to it unfold against a backdrop of rising tensions over the Gaza conflict, the boundaries of protest, and the limits of free expression in the UK and beyond. Supporters of the band argue that the use of terrorism laws against artists and activists risks chilling dissent and stifling important debate. Critics counter that provocative actions—such as displaying the flag of a group designated as a terrorist organization—cross a line and must be addressed by law.
Judge Goldspring was careful to clarify that his ruling was not about Ó hAnnaidh’s “innocence or guilt,” but strictly about whether the court “has jurisdiction to hear the case.” In his words, “the charge is unlawful and null.” This distinction matters, as it leaves open questions about the underlying facts and the appropriate balance between security concerns and civil liberties.
As the dust settles, the CPS’s next steps remain uncertain. The possibility of an appeal looms, and law enforcement agencies are reviewing the implications for future cases. For Kneecap, the legal ordeal has—for now—ended in vindication, but the band’s journey as artists and activists is far from over. Their story is a vivid reminder that the intersection of art, politics, and the law is rarely straightforward—and that sometimes, the smallest technicalities can have the biggest consequences.
