Writers Helen Dale and Shazia Hobbs both attended the âFree Dankulaâ protests on Monday April 23, Shazia in Airdrie, Scotland and Helen in London, England. Here, they report exclusively for Quillette.
Helen: Iâm not sure speaking at a protest was ever on my bucket list but at least I can say Iâve done it now.
In circumstances I still find peculiar â outlined here to American journalist Tim Pool at 17:10 â I finished up speaking at the London âFree Dankulaâ cum âFree Speechâ protest.
Shazia: I arrived at Airdrie Sheriff Court on Monday morning not knowing what sort of turn out to expect.
I was delighted to see lots of people had travelled from England to support Markus Meechan, but I was disappointed to see Scots hadnât turned out in their thousands. Scottish law is different from English law and Scottish people should have been a more visible presence, since the outcome of the case could curtail their freedom of speech. This man was also at risk of âgoing in the gaolâ as Scots say.
Helen and Shazia:In the end, of course, Markus Meechan â aka âCount Dankulaâ â didnât go to gaol for his âNazi pugâ video. That said, the ÂŁ800 fine he copped probably makes it the most expensive joke in Britain. We have gone through some sort of looking glass, but from what to where is unknown and perhaps unknowable.
A man trains his girlfriendâs pet pug to do Nazi salutes in response to the trigger phrases âgas the Jewsâ and âsieg heilâ. At one point in the video he makes of this exercise, the pug â whose name is âBuddhaâ, by the way â is in front of a television screen as a Nazi rally plays. Police see the video on YouTube but are in a jurisdiction where police cannot bring prosecutions on their own motion. So they go looking for complainants â Jews who may be âgrossly offendedâ by what they see. The video is shown, presumably multiple times, to people who have not seen it and do not know of it. Some people are indeed offended and produce complaints, notably a Jewish Rabbi in Glasgow. The complaints are taken to the Procurator Fiscal, Scotlandâs equivalent of the CPS or DPP.
Itâs like the old joke: âEugh! Look what I nearly stood in!â [holds up dog shit in bare hand.]
The video joker is duly charged. He becomes famous. Many more people see the Nazi pug video. The video joker is convicted. He becomes still more famous, although in response to the conviction, YouTube âdemonetisesâ his videos, so he can no longer earn income from his fame. He is likely saved from a custodial sentence by the uproar surrounding his case. His story competes for headlines with the latest addition to the Royal Family. In words to chill the blood, during his sentencing statement, the Sheriff tells the joker the reaction by employers in the local area suggests that not only Jewish people found this material highly offensive: you say you lost a number of jobs as a result.
Helen has written elsewhere why she thought this prosecution utterly unworthy, damaging to freedom of speech but also of a type to reduce British law enforcement to a global laughing-stock. This time, itâs not only Americans â protected by the strong shield of their First Amendment â laughing at us. Other people are as well, even in countries with hate speech laws.
However, the law under which the charges were brought â Section 127 of the Communications Act 2003 â is not a hate speech law. In some respects, this makes it more dangerous. Hate speech laws â whether one agrees that âhate speechâ exists or not â are narrowly drafted. This is so because both common law and Roman law (âcivilianâ) systems have long recognised that constraints on speech need to be narrow or civic life becomes impossible.
As originally enacted â in 1935, no less â Section 127 was to stop people harassing others by telephone. During the protest, Helen had to explain to one of the youthful organisers what it was like to be called up in the middle of the night and sworn at, or to have heavy breathing down the telephone. Subsection 2 of the Act is clearly directed to a sibling under the skin of harassing midnight calls: phoning the emergency services and telling them granny is doing the watusi on the living room carpet when in reality granny is alive and well and on holiday in Brighton.
Section 127 of the Communications Act has become one of the principal means by which the Internet is policed in the UK. It has done so with little debate about whether it is appropriately worded to deal with modern technology. It is one thing to protect individuals from âgrossly offensiveâ personal telephone calls. It is quite another to protect groups of people from what are in effect public performances. That it is now being used to regulate YouTube is frankly bonkers.
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Helen: When I was invited to speak at the London protest, for a time it seemed Iâd be sharing a platform with Tommy Robinson, which I admit gave me pause. Robinson â although heâs cleaned himself up of late â leaves a bad taste in a lot of peopleâs mouths, chiefly because he started out in football âfirmâ culture and the EDL and has quite a rap sheet.
I had anxious friends contact me and suggest appearing on the same side was âbad for my reputationâ, would âlose me my column at [x outlet]â or even see me answering âplease explainsâ from my Conservative constituency association or the Law Society. There was also a risk his presence would attract Antifa, leading to a riot instead of a protest.
Robinson then went to Scotland to protest outside Airdrie Sheriff Court and my two concerns evaporated. Nonetheless, ideas donât become wrong because of who believes in them. Guilt by association can get in the bin.
People marching were also not of a type commonly associated with protests. A few were in suits, but others waved American Gadsden flags, or the flag of an invented country, Kekistan. One joker had modified the Gadsden flag so the rattlesnake was transformed into a pug, with its tagline also altered: donât tread on meme. Londonâs other main speaker was a man better known as âSargon of Akkadâ. Sargon of Akkadâs real name is Carl Benjamin, and he comes from Swindon (home to the Magic Roundabout). He invented the land of âshitpostersâ known as Kekistan, although perhaps not their flag.
Benjaminâs Kekistanis were overwhelmingly young, wan in the weak spring sun and unfamiliar with the traditions of protest: they chatted amiably to Met officers scattered thereabouts. It took an older man, an obvious Boomer, to point a bullhorn at the police and shout. Later, Benjamin apologised for using a megaphone at the marchâs terminus in front of Number 10. He was not, he said, the sort of annoying person who bellowed his amplified thoughts at unwilling listeners.
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Shazia: Meechan and his girlfriend Sue â and Buddha the pugâs true owner â arrived at Airdrie Sheriff Court hand in hand. They walked past the press who had gathered, refusing to answer questions. I saw a cameraman from Sky News stick his foot out. It looked like an attempt at making Sue trip and fall.
The two of them waited outside the doors, Meechan smoking a cigarette. Supporters approached him, shaking his hand, wishing him good luck and asking for selfies. I asked him how he was feeling and he said, a little nervous. He kept his back to the paparazzi and camera crews the whole time; he didnât want to give them a picture.
I spoke to police officers standing around the courthouse, waiting. They agreed the trial was farcical and a waste of police time and resources. They said theyâd rather be out catching real criminals and solving real crimes.
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Helen & Shazia:After Count Dankula was convicted last month, London comedy club âComedy Unleashedâ decided to test whether the Nazi pug video was, in fact, funny. Directors Andy Shaw and Andrew Doyle donât actually care one way or another. The three comedians have argued consistently that freedom of speech is the core issue here, otherwise the state finishes up arbiter of taste â something fatal not only to comedy, but to the arts more widely.
However, they were curious whether Dankulaâs self-described âinternet shitpostingâ could bridge the gulf to live comedy. So, on 20 March they showed the video at their club â bookended with some comments by Comedy Unleashedâs compere, New Yorker Lewis Schaffer â and recorded the results.
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Helen: After the protest finished, I went to a nearby pub with a couple of journalists. A somewhat agitated Andrew Doyle messaged me and asked if he could join us. What then followed â over the course of several hours, and came to include an experienced BBC cameraman, a second lawyer, and Carl Benjamin â involved working out whether Comedy Unleashed could upload the video to their YouTube page, and then tweet the link.
Uploading the video could enliven Section 127 1 (a) â the same provision that had just lightened Markus Meechanâs wallet by ÂŁ800. Tweeting it could see Comedy Unleashed lose its Twitter account. One of Pieâs friends had already been permanently banned after tweeting a link to Meechanâs original video. The contagion could spread to anyone who re-tweeted it. First Pie, Doyle, and Shaw themselves (with 130,000 followers between them), then so on down the line.
I donât recommend reading CPS prosecution guidelines on an iPhone screen after three pints of beer but even so, I was able to establish in England & Wales at least, uploading the video was unlikely to draw Plodâs attention and Comedy Unleashed was safe. Twitter, however, was another matter. There was no telling what it would do, and Pie â who often uses it to advertise ticket availability and extra shows â was particularly exposed.
The three decided to take the risk. The Comedy Unleashed âNazi pugâ video â with Schafferâs comments and audience reactions â is striking and well worth watching.
Also, occupying two ÂŁ300-an-hour lawyers for half an evening so they could work out whether a comedy club could upload and tweet a link to a comedy video is, as Andrew Doyle observed, completelynuts.
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Helen & Shazia:That Britain is a land of generational and class divides is a commonplace; the Tories nearly lost last yearâs election because so many young people canât afford a house. On Monday, we learnt of another divide, but this is within a single generation. The young people protesting were nothing like the moaning Millennials now staples of reportage and popular âyouth-bashingâ. They are literate but they do not have time for your sad story. Fed a steady diet of victimhood narratives at school, they have rejected the lot. Everything represents an opportunity for some âtop kekâ.
Many are ânot poshâ in the broadest sense, hence the affinity for figures like Tommy Robinson and Markus Meechan and Sargon of Akkad. Theyâre often banned from online forums like Twitter or Facebook not because their ideas are particularly radical, but because their diction is insufficiently pure. Shazia, a working-class brown woman, has been suspended from Twitter repeatedly. This is partly because Scots swear, but largely because she isnât âniceâ.
Douglas K. Murray says things about Islam that, to our eye and ear, seem remarkably similar to things said by Robinson. But Murray went to Eton and Oxford and writes and speaks in the studied, oracular style perfected by the British upper-middle-classes. Robinson is an electrician who runs a tanning salon and once ran with Luton Townâs âfirmâ. Murray is on Twitter with his blue tick intact. Robinson has been perma-banned.
Shazia: We have become lazy in Scotland, too lazy to do anything about terror or rape-gangs, and lazy about standing up when people are trying to shut our speech down. That Braveheart mentality everyone thinks weâve got: âYou can take my life but youâll never take my freedom?â Only in films these days.
People outside Scotland donât realise Markus Meechan has had his life destroyed for two years. Heâs crowd-funded over ÂŁ120,000 (ÂŁ131K at time of writing) to fund an appeal because âI cannot allow the 2 years of litigation I went through and having my life put on hold, to happen to anyone elseâ. With top legal talent, there is a chance PF v Meechan may go the same way as the infamous âTwitter Joke Trialâ, where a similarly ridiculous conviction was eventually quashed. That involved three appeals, though, before the UK judiciary finally located its sense of humour.