On a crisp September morning in London, the usually subdued atmosphere outside Westminster Magistrates’ Court was replaced by a sea of Palestinian flags and the echo of protest chants. The reason? The first individuals charged with supporting Palestine Action—a group recently banned by the UK government—were making their initial court appearance. The trio, Jeremy Shippam (72), Judit Murray (71), and Fiona Maclean (53), had become unlikely faces at the center of a legal and political storm that’s been brewing since the summer.
According to AFP, the three, all long-time activists, were arrested after a July 5 protest in Parliament Square, Westminster. The Metropolitan Police detained 41 people that day, accusing them of supporting the now-proscribed group. The charges allege that Shippam, Murray, and Maclean displayed placards reading, "I oppose genocide, I support Palestine Action"—a phrase that, under section 13 of the Terrorism Act 2000, aroused reasonable suspicion that they supported a banned organization.
Palestine Action itself was proscribed in July 2025, following a series of high-profile acts of vandalism, most notably the damaging of two Voyager planes at RAF Brize Norton on June 20. The cost of the damage was estimated at £7.0 million, according to AFP. The UK government’s decision to ban the group, labeling it a terrorist organization, has since sparked fierce debate over the boundaries of protest, free speech, and national security.
As MyLondon reported, the three defendants—who entered not guilty pleas—were released on bail, with their trial scheduled for March 16 of next year. The scene outside the courthouse was charged, with dozens of supporters rallying behind the accused, chanting and waving flags in a show of solidarity. Protestor Kay Wagland told AFP that the government had banned "a non-violent direct action group as terrorist," warning that such measures prevent citizens from taking physical action in support of their beliefs. Another supporter, Sarah Green, expressed concern that, "it is a slippery slope" when it comes to protest rights.
The legal ramifications of the government’s move are severe. Under the new designation, both membership of and support for Palestine Action are now criminal offenses, punishable by up to 14 years in prison. Most demonstrators arrested at related protests face up to six months imprisonment, while organizers—if found guilty under terrorism legislation—could face much harsher penalties.
Since the ban, the Metropolitan Police have made hundreds of arrests. On September 6, a staggering 890 people were detained during a London protest, most under anti-terror laws, as reported by AFP. Despite the heavy police presence, protest organizers, including the group Defend our Juries, maintained that their rallies were the "picture of peaceful protest." Yet, the mass arrests have only intensified scrutiny of the government’s approach and fueled debate over civil liberties.
The controversy doesn’t end at the courthouse steps. The Home Office is currently appealing a High Court ruling that allows Palestine Action’s co-founder, Huda Ammori, to proceed with a legal challenge against the government’s ban. Ammori’s case centers on then-home secretary Yvette Cooper’s decision to proscribe the group under anti-terror laws, a move that has transformed the legal landscape for protest in the UK. As MyLondon notes, the outcome of this legal battle could set a significant precedent for how the government handles dissent and direct action movements in the future.
Palestine Action, for its part, has remained defiant. In statements following the ban, the group accused Britain of being "an active participant in the Gaza genocide and war crimes across the Middle East," despite the government’s public condemnation of Israel. The group’s supporters argue that the ban is an attempt to stifle legitimate protest against UK arms sales to Israel and broader British foreign policy in the region.
Critics of the ban, including the United Nations, have condemned it as legal overreach and a threat to free speech. They argue that criminalizing support for a direct action group—especially one that, until recently, operated openly—sets a dangerous precedent. The debate has drawn in voices from across the political spectrum, with some emphasizing the need for robust national security measures in the face of escalating global tensions, while others warn that the right to protest is being eroded under the guise of counterterrorism.
The legal specifics are as complex as the politics. Section 13 of the Terrorism Act 2000 makes it an offense to display an article in a public place in a manner likely to arouse reasonable suspicion of support for a proscribed organization. The charge sheet against Shippam, Murray, and Maclean alleges exactly that: their placards, displayed in Parliament Square, were enough to bring them before a judge. For many observers, the case raises thorny questions about intent, free expression, and the limits of lawful protest.
Meanwhile, the impact of the ban has rippled far beyond Westminster. Since July, there have been multiple protests across the country, with activists determined to challenge what they see as an unjust restriction on their rights. Six additional activists appeared in court on September 4, charged with encouraging support for Palestine Action through online meetings. The government, however, has shown little sign of backing down, insisting that the ban is necessary to protect public safety and prevent further acts of vandalism or disruption.
For the families and supporters of those charged, the stakes are deeply personal. The prospect of lengthy prison sentences has cast a long shadow over the activist community, and many fear that the government’s approach could chill dissent more broadly. Yet, for others—particularly those concerned about the safety and security of critical infrastructure—the ban represents a necessary response to escalating tactics by protest groups.
As the legal process unfolds, all eyes will be on the March trial. The outcome will not only determine the fate of Shippam, Murray, and Maclean but could also shape the future of protest in the UK. In the meantime, the debate over where to draw the line between legitimate activism and criminal conduct rages on, with no easy answers in sight.
With passions running high on all sides, the coming months promise to be pivotal for both the individuals at the heart of the case and the broader movement they represent. The courthouse steps may be quiet now, but the questions raised by this case will echo far beyond the walls of Westminster.
