Tommy Robinson in court today on terrorism charges — for refusing to hand over his phone. Live updates from the…

Tommy Robinson in court today on terrorism charges — for refusing to hand over his phone. Live updates from the courtroom 🧵 Now, I’m no expert on the finer points of barristers’ ethics in this country, but Prosecutor Jo Morris appears to have mistaken the dock for a gossip column. Her opening salvo consisted of a string of irrelevant personal anecdotes about Tommy — none of which bear the slightest relation to the charge at hand. The whole performance seemed purpose-built to feed tomorrow’s headlines rather than serve justice. They arrested him, seized all his belongings, rifled through everything without a warrant — and now Ms Morris stands before a courtroom brimming with regime-friendly journalists, gleefully reciting every innocuous detail she could dredge up. Nothing illegal, just conveniently humiliating. According to Morris, the police repeatedly demanded Tommy’s phone password. He repeatedly refused — as is his right. For that refusal, he was then arrested. Yes, arrested — for declining to give his iPhone code to a pack of overzealous officers. I grew up admiring Britain — the Mother Country of law and justice. Hard to believe it’s the same nation now. Oh, and one final note: @elonmusk reportedly covered Tommy Robinson’s legal fees for today’s “terrorism” hearing. Good man, Elon. 🙏

Prosecutor Jo Morris stated that Tommy had detailed the number of police forces complicit in the rape gangs, and that neither he nor the victims have any faith in the police. To surrender the contents of his phone, she argued, would be to “betray” them.

Prosecutor Jo Morris: “Mr Robinson said, ‘They’re my sources. I’m a journalist, first and foremost. When they gave me that information, I gave my word I’d keep it confidential.’”

Tommy’s barrister, Alisdair Williamson KC, has taken the floor. He argues that the selection criteria were not applied in good faith; the examination itself was not conducted in good faith; and that there was never any legitimate reason to detain Tommy in the first place. In short — the entire affair was wholly inappropriate. Williamson went further, stating: “The reference to his political beliefs was discriminatory.” In other words, Tommy was arrested for his politics — not for any alleged terrorism. They’ve now called a witness: the police officer involved. He looks barely out of school — perhaps nineteen at most. He was stationed with the Channel Tunnel police — that’s where Tommy was arrested. (For context, Schedule 7 of the Terrorism Act only applies at ports and airports such as that.)

Prosecutor Jo Morris inquires about his credentials. He replies that he’s tested every two years on the Terrorism Act. This officer explains that his role is to police outbound traffic. Morris then asks what might “give rise to suspicion.” The officer responds that it’s “very rare” for someone to turn up and pay for travel on the day, rather than booking in advance. Honestly — that’s their benchmark for a terrorist? That’s why they arrested Tommy?

During the interrogation, the prosecutor and the officer can be heard discussing the need to find Tommy legal representation. It appears they managed to secure a duty solicitor — essentially, a standard legal aid lawyer appointed by the state. Proceedings were briefly interrupted when a mobile phone rang in court, prompting the judge to remind all present to switch off their devices. Moments later, another phone went off, raising concerns that the public gallery might soon be cleared.

Prosecutor Jo Morris has confirmed the exact time this officer placed Tommy under arrest.

Alisdair Williamson KC rises to cross-examine the self-described vegan they/them police officer. Williamson, acting for Tommy Robinson, cites an independent report highlighting the systemic misuse of Schedule 7 powers under the Terrorism Act. “Was this your first accreditation cycle?” he asks coolly. “You’d been accredited only eighteen months prior to the arrest, correct?” Continuing, Williamson presses on: “The purpose of the law, is it not, is to detect the preparation or instigation of terrorism? It must be applied reasonably, proportionately, in good faith — and not arbitrarily?” The officer agrees to each point.

Tommy Robinson’s barrister, Mr Williamson, pointed to an independent report highlighting serious concerns over the misuse of Schedule 7 powers under the Terrorism Act. He pressed the question: “Was this your first accreditation cycle? You were accredited only eighteen months prior to the arrest, correct?”

Cross-examination exchange between Tommy Robinson’s barrister, Mr Williamson, and the police officer: Williamson: When exercising your powers, you’re required to restart the process each time, correct? Officer: Correct. Williamson: There’s a distinction between matters of public order and terrorism, isn’t there? Officer: Yes. Williamson: The term “extreme right-wing terrorism” was only recently incorporated into the Terrorism Act? Officer: That’s right. Williamson: Which carries the risk of encroaching on areas that would normally fall under public order, wouldn’t you agree? Officer: Yes. Officer: There can, of course, be an overlap between the two.

Tommy’s barrister, Mr Williamson: “You mustn’t discriminate, correct?” Officer: “Right.” Williamson: “On the grounds of someone’s political beliefs?” Officer: “I agree.”

Williamson: So, you’re authorised to engage with members of the public in order to decide whether to conduct an examination? Officer: Correct. Williamson: And once you begin asking questions, that constitutes the start of a Schedule 7 examination? Officer: Correct. Williamson: At what point did that occur? Officer: When he was detained.

Williamson has referred to a videotape in his possession, yet, for reasons unknown, has chosen not to present it to the court. (It is presumed to contain footage of the interrogation.)

Williamson: When Mr Robinson arrived in the car, had you already identified him? Officer: Yes. Williamson: You were aware, then, that some 50,000 of his supporters had just rallied in Trafalgar Square — it was front-page news, wasn’t it? Officer: I was aware, yes.

Williamson: “When you were stationed at your booth, you saw him come out with his passport, and he was on his way again barely a minute later?” Officer: “That’s right — it took all of thirty-four seconds to make the selection.” Williamson: “Long-winded, was he?” Officer: “Hardly. I asked one question.”

Court now on recess

Alisdair Williamson KC is back on his feet, proposing that the video be played in full. The court is now viewing the CCTV footage.

Tommy Robinson’s counsel, Alisdair Williamson KC, began his cross-examination with a pointed question: Williamson: “When did you first become aware that the individual in question was Tommy Robinson — and how?” Officer: “I just knew, through articles online and so on.” Williamson: “You recognised him visually?” Officer: “Yes.” Williamson: “And that’s the only reason?” Officer: “Yes.” Williamson pressed further: “Would it surprise you to learn that your total interaction with Mr Robinson lasted around thirty seconds?” Turning to the officer’s written evidence, Williamson noted: “This is your first time preparing a witness statement, isn’t it? Tell me, what is the purpose of such a statement?” Officer: “To assist the court.” Williamson: “Quite so. And would you agree that you’re obliged to include all matters which might be relevant?” Officer: “Yes.” Williamson then proceeded to question the officer about the omission of key details from his witness statement.

Mr. Williamson: “Let’s refer to your witness statement, dated 28 July. On what day did the alleged events actually occur?” The officer mumbles indistinctly. Mr. Williamson: “A person isn’t, in fact, obliged to comply with your requests at this stage, are they? There is no legal duty to cooperate?” Officer: “Correct.” Mr. Williamson: “Your authority only comes into play once an examination has formally begun, doesn’t it?” Mr. Williamson: “An examining officer must not exercise these powers unless and until the individual has been informed that an examination has commenced — you accept that?” Officer: “Yes.” Mr. Williamson: “And you are required to exercise such powers with respect and to minimise any disruption. Mr. Lennon was, therefore, free to leave at that point, wasn’t he?” The officer mumbles again. Mr. Williamson: “He was at liberty, wasn’t he?” Officer: “I’m unaware.”

Williamson: What was the reason he was moved to Bay 5? Who was monitoring him during those twenty-two minutes? So, you left a high-profile member of the public unattended for twenty-two minutes, and you’re uncertain of the authority you had to do so — and unaware of precisely how long he was left there? Officer: Correct. Williamson: And what were you doing during that time? Officer: We were conducting checks on him. Williamson: Did you learn anything from these partner agencies? Officer: No. (pauses) May I have some more water, please? The officer gulps water like a man parched — perspiring, visibly uneasy, sweating like a sinner in church. Officer: Other officers were carrying out checks as well. We had to wait for their responses. Williamson: I can’t find any mention of that in your witness statement. Officer: No.

Williamson: Your witness statement appears to be lacking in several essential details. Officer: I omitted certain matters. Williamson: At what point did you decide to examine him? Officer: Once all our telephone calls had been completed.

The court has paused for another short break. The officer appears to be hydrating rather enthusiastically — one suspects a visit to the ladies may soon be in order. 👀

Courtroom Update: The clerk instructs everyone to switch off their phones. The judge re-enters. Alisdair Williamson KC resumes his questioning. Williamson: “You did consult with senior officers?” Officer: “Yes — for consultations.” Williamson: “Mr Robinson’s views are well known, aren’t they?” Officer: “Yes.” Williamson: “You provided a second witness statement the following day. Why did you write it?” Officer: “That was in relation to paperwork.” Williamson: “We can see you handing a document to Mr Robinson. What was that?” Officer: “I can’t recall.” Williamson: “Your third witness statement came in August — several weeks later. Why did you write that one?” Officer: “I was asked.” Williamson: “Did you take notes, or was this from memory?” Officer: “From memory.” Williamson: “So a witness statement written after the interrogation was then used to justify the interrogation?”

Williamson: In your third statement, you refer to “short, vague answers.” Yet you’ve said the only question you asked was, “Where are you going?” Officer: I don’t recall. Williamson: The entire exchange lasted barely thirty seconds, didn’t it?

Williamson: “How often does Mr Robinson travel to Spain?” Officer: “I don’t know.” Williamson: “You detained him for forty minutes, conducting checks, because you claimed you didn’t believe he’d been to Spain. He travels there frequently, doesn’t he?” Officer: “Yes.” Williamson: “Did you actually verify that?” Officer: “I can’t recall.” (Officer takes a long gulp of water.) 👀

Williamson: Reading out Tommy Robinson’s frequent trips back and forth to Spain — where he now resides for safety — “In exercising this extraordinary power, did you consider it relevant that he travels to Spain so often?” Officer: “Yes.” Williamson: “Do terrorists typically drive high-value, high-visibility vehicles?” Officer: “They can use any type of vehicle.” Williamson: “Are you instructed to watch out for high-attention vehicles?” Officer: “No.” Williamson: “Is travelling alone considered suspicious?” Officer: “We can make enquiries about it.” Williamson: “So you’re unable to tell the judge what questions you actually asked Mr Robinson?” Officer: “Not beyond what’s in my witness statement.”

Williamson: You referenced the English Defence League. You’re aware it was disbanded over a decade ago, correct? Officer: I’m not aware. Williamson: Did you not discuss that with your colleague? Officer: The EDL provides a window into someone’s mindset. Williamson: Your powers are only valid when exercised in good faith — that is, when assessing whether someone poses a genuine terrorist threat, not simply because they hold views you disagree with. Correct? Officer: Correct. Williamson: When you said Tommy was examined to determine how “extreme” his views were, how did you intend to distinguish between a legitimately held opinion and an actual plan to commit terrorism? Williamson: What questions did you ask that were not merely based on a perception of his political beliefs? Officer: I cannot recall.

Courtroom Exchange: Officer: “At the conclusion of the interrogation, there was nothing to indicate he was a terrorist.” Williamson: “That’s because you only questioned him about publicly available information, wasn’t it?” Williamson: “What exactly did you talk about?” Officer: “Current affairs. News.” Williamson: “So you didn’t stop to consider that everything you asked could have been answered by a simple Google search — rather than detaining him?” Williamson: “You were asking about his opinions. That’s not remotely relevant to terrorism, is it?” Williamson: “Has Mr Robinson ever been involved in terrorism?” Officer: “I’m unaware.” With that, Williamson rests his case — leaving Prosecutor Jo Morris to rise and attempt damage control.

Morris: “You were asked to make subsequent witness statements to fill in some gaps?” Officer: “Yes.” And that’s that. The officer’s finished. What an absolute debacle — a proper shambles. Good heavens, he was feeble. Nowhere near a match for Alisdair Williamson KC. Prosecutor Jo Morris remains on her feet, though she appears to have lost her voice — literally or figuratively. The public gallery begins to murmur and laugh; the security guard calls for silence.

It beggars belief that the Crown Prosecution Service would press ahead with a case this feeble. But then again, it’s Tommy Robinson — and as Lavrentiy Beria once quipped, “Show me the man, and I’ll find you the crime.” They’re determined to make something stick, harassing him until they can conjure up anything that might do. This is nothing short of a malicious prosecution. Inside the courtroom, the scene borders on the absurd. One officer appears to have downed the entire carafe of water, prompting a clerk to scurry off for a refill. Prosecutor Jo Morris rises to her feet. Another officer — older than the first — takes the stand as a witness. He swears to tell the truth as the clerk returns, triumphantly, with a replenished carafe.

The second officer recounted the moment of Tommy Robinson’s arrival at the port, stating that he was directed to proceed to “search lane five.” Prosecutor Morris: “Did you speak with him?” Officer Two: “Yes. I asked him about his vehicle — I was instructed to do so.” Morris: “Did you recognise who he was at the time?” Officer Two: “Yes, I did. From the newspapers.”

Cop 2: We asked Mr Robinson to bring his phone with him. Morris: You took him to an interrogation room? Cop 2: Yes. Mr Robinson attempted to make a recording, stating that he was “being arrested under the Terrorism Act.” Cop 2: When I took possession of his phone, it was locked. Morris: Was he searched? Cop 2: He was. I personally seized the device — it was placed in an evidence bag and then secured in a Faraday pouch.

Morris: He was asked for his PIN number? Officer 2: More than once. Morris: Was he warned of the consequences of refusing? Officer 2: Yes. Morris: Mr Robinson reportedly said, “For me, it’s a win–win.” He claimed there was journalistic material on the device. Was the procedure for handling such material ever explained to him? Officer 2: I believe I did. And that concludes it. Alisdair Williamson KC now begins the cross-examination.

Williamson: You were stationed at a different booth, correct? You knew who Tommy Robinson was — he’s a public figure. Do you know how long his vehicle was held behind the booth before you arrived? Officer 2: No. Williamson: How long was it before you instructed him to move to Bay 5? Did you confer with your superior about stopping a high-profile individual? Or with other officers — regarding the reason for the stop? Officer 2: At the time, he would have told me. Williamson: Why? Officer 2: He had paid for his ticket upon arrival, but he was in a vehicle that didn’t belong to him — that’s all I can recall. Williamson: But there are machines on-site where one can purchase a ticket upon arrival, aren’t there? Williamson: And the other basis for the stop was simply that he didn’t own the vehicle? Officer 2: Yes.

Williamson: Your witness statement claims he “has links to organisations that have been labelled as far-right or extreme far-right.” Were you aware that the EDL had been disbanded a full ten years earlier? Officer 2: At the time, no. Williamson: Tommy asked the other officer if he knew when the EDL ceased to exist, and he replied “2015,” didn’t he? Officer 2: It was just a guess! Williamson: Of all the dates you could have guessed! Williamson: You received no intelligence from any partner agencies about him, and nothing you learned came from anywhere other than the Internet. What, then, did you actually ask him about terrorism — or any intent to commit it? Officer 2: We were satisfied he wasn’t a terrorist.

Williamson: Did you know he waited a full forty minutes before being examined? And then another ninety minutes before he was seen again. What was happening during that time? Officer 2: I’m not sure. Williamson: You were present — you took part in this? Williamson: And you considered the detention necessary? Officer 2: Yes.

Williamson’s examination has concluded. The prosecutor has been invited to re-examine. During questioning, the prosecution sought to imply that purchasing a ticket at the last minute was suspicious behaviour. The court has now adjourned for lunch until 2 p.m.

The court has ordered a halt to live-tweeting. Further updates will follow once proceedings have concluded.

Update on the @TRobinsonNewEra case: The judge has ruled that any live tweeting from inside the courtroom now constitutes contempt of court.