It is no longer a one-off rebuke. For the umpteenth time this year, the United States has publicly chastised Britain over its clampdown on free expression. In its strongest warning yet, Washington has branded the UK’s “buffer zones” an “egregious violation” of liberty — echoing a series of cautions that began back in February, with Vice President JD Vance calling out the notorious law in his Munich Security Council speech. That America now finds itself repeatedly reminding Britain of the basics of free speech and religious freedom is remarkable enough. That the reminders concern citizens prosecuted for the “crimes” of silent prayer, or offering conversation, makes the spectacle all the more astonishing.
The intervention is extraordinary. Washington rarely singles out its closest ally with such sharp criticism. But then again, few could have imagined that in twenty-first century Britain, the “crime” of standing silently and praying could land you in a police station. Isabel Vaughan-Spruce, who has dedicated her life to supporting mothers in crisis, is once again under investigation for no more than thinking prayerful thoughts near a Birmingham clinic. She is not alone.
What does it say of Britain’s self-confidence if we cannot tolerate an old woman holding a sign offering a chat?
Take Rose Docherty, a 75-year-old Glaswegian grandmother, arrested in February for standing quietly outside a hospital with a placard that read: “Coercion is a crime, here to talk, only if you want.” Her case was recently dropped — but not before she endured the humiliation of being treated as a criminal for an act of compassion. Or consider Livia Tossici-Bolt, a retired biomedical scientist in Bournemouth, who was convicted and handed a two-year conditional discharge, along with a crippling £20,000 bill in costs, for the “offence” of holding a sign that read: “Here to talk, if you want.”
Then there is Father Sean Gough, a Catholic priest, who faced prosecution praying for free speech in a censored zone, and for parking his car near a Birmingham abortion facility with a bumper sticker saying “Unborn lives matter.” And Adam Smith-Connor, an army veteran, was convicted and forced to pay £9,000 in costs for praying silently in his head for a few minutes, across the road from an abortion facility in Bournemouth. A man who once risked his life for the freedoms of his country now finds himself punished for exercising them.
These are not firebrands storming the barricades. They are ordinary citizens, punished for harmless acts of conscience. Yet under Britain’s “buffer zone” laws — 150 metres in England and Wales, 200 metres in Scotland — a violation risks criminal charges and serious financial penalties.
It is this spectacle — the image of Britain hauling a grandmother, a priest, a veteran, or a retired scientist before the courts for the “offence” of prayer or conversation — that has triggered such unease across the Atlantic. America’s diplomats are making it plain that these policies are not just domestic quirks. They undermine the very “shared values” that are supposed to anchor the Special Relationship.
For decades, the transatlantic partnership has rested not only on military and economic cooperation, but on the conviction that both nations are standard-bearers for liberty. It was Churchill and Roosevelt who pledged to defend “freedom of speech and freedom of religion” as universal rights, not parochial privileges. How bitter, then, that it is Washington now reminding London of those very principles.
Britain’s defenders of “buffer zones” argue that women need protection from intimidation. Yet pre-existing legislation already criminalises harassment and obstruction. What the buffer zones law newly criminalises is thought — expressed silently in prayer or gently in conversation. This is not about safety; it is about censorship.
And what does it say of Britain’s self-confidence if we cannot tolerate the sight of an old woman holding a sign offering a chat? What does it say of our liberal tradition if a priest is prosecuted for a bumper sticker or a soldier who once risked his life for our freedoms is fined thousands for quietly exercising his own?
For America to chastise Britain over free speech is a reversal that ought to sting. The country that once exported Magna Carta and the common law is now importing regular reminders on the basics of liberty.
Perhaps that is what the Special Relationship looks like in 2025: still close, still enduring, but hanging on — to borrow a phrase — on a silent prayer.
