I Was Arrested at Heathrow Airport as a “Terrorist” for My Journalism

My name is Richard Thomas Medhurst.

I am an internationally accredited journalist from the United Kingdom.

On Thursday, as I landed in London Heathrow airport, I was immediately escorted off the plane by 6 police officers who were waiting for me at the entrance of the aircraft.

They arrested me—not detained—but arrested me under Section 12 of the Terrorism Act of 2000 and accused me of allegedly “expressing an opinion or belief that is supportive of a proscribed organization” but wouldn’t explain what this meant.

One officer took my bags, and when I asked why he was still back in the aircraft, I was told “look mate, you can get nicked right here in front of everyone, or in there. Your choice.”

I was taken to an adjacent room, patted down, my phone confiscated.

I was not allowed to inform my family.

Despite being calm and cooperative, I was handcuffed with something that placed my shoulders in an awkward position, and my wrists on top of, rather than next to each other. The handcuffs were extremely tight. Despite the police loosening them, they left marks on me for two days.

The police took me down onto the runway and put me in a police van; essentially a mobile cage and informed me everything was being recorded.

The van was cramped. I had to struggle the entire time to keep my balance and try not to fall over as we drove to the police station.

Once inside the station, they searched me again for the 2nd time in 10 minutes.

I was told to sit on a bench, remove my shoes; remove my socks. I was told to turn my socks inside out and hold them up for the officers to inspect.

They also made me hold up my feet for them to check.

The officers took me to a room with UV lights, which they told me is used to catch burglars sprayed with something—I have no idea why they did this, since they just removed me off a plane.

My suitcase was then opened in the lobby and ransacked; all my journalistic equipment and devices were seized, including phones, sim cards, wireless microphones, microphones and headphones. Even my shoelaces.

They later took my DNA, fingerprints, palmprints, and photographed me.

I was placed in solitary confinement, in a cold cell that smelt like urine. There was barely any light, and the bed—if you can even call it a bed—was a small concrete ledge, with a paper thin mattress.

The cell had no windows. No heating. No toilet paper.

I was recorded 24/7, with audio and video— even when going to the toilet.

I had to eat food with a piece of cardboard, that you’re supposed to fold in two in order to scoop up the meal.

The police said I have the right to inform someone I’m locked up. So I said, ok I want to call my family. And then they’d go: “well, your calls are withheld because of the nature of the alleged offense”.

I tried to ask: well what’s the point of a right if you can randomly withdraw it? Why tell me that I have this right at all?

And one of them said something along the lines of: “well it’s not an absolute right. It can be waived”.

Similarly, they said I had the right to know why I was being detained. So I asked (again), and the police would say something like: “we’re just the arresting officers, we don’t really know”, or, “this will be explained to you during the interview”, or some other generic response.

Despite the police officers’ civility and cheerfulness, I felt the whole process was designed to humiliate, intimidate, and dehumanize me; to treat me like a criminal, even though they must have been aware of my background and that I am a journalist.

I was under surveillance almost the entire time, from the moment I was arrested until I was released, be it in the police van, the station, the cell—all of it. No privacy whatsoever.

Many of my requests were also delayed or outright ignored.

When I was detained, I asked for water several times. The police would always say “sure”, but I ended up waiting hours for a tiny cup of water.

I asked if I could have my own clothes because I was in a t-shirt, it was cold and couldn’t sleep. They said they’d give me a pullover but never did. Although one guard did give me a 2nd blanket.

See, you have to nag and nag for the most basic things. This is why I was afraid they weren’t even going to call a solicitor for me.

I was able to see the nurse on one occasion. But on three other occasions when I asked to see the nurse, they’d say “yes”, then nothing.

For many hours, no one in the world knew what had happened to me or where I was.

Only the police could call a solicitor for me. I had to ask 4-5 different guards for several hours until I finally received a call.

Some of my solicitor’s calls did not get through or were not answered. One of the calls, my solicitor was told would be monitored and so they siply refused to take it.

I asked to speak to them afterwards when that happened but was not allowed to.

In total, I spent almost 24 hours in detention. At no point, whatsoever, was I allowed to speak to a family member or friend.

After waiting 15 hours, I was finally interviewed by two detectives. The interview lasted just about an hour, an hour and a half.

So there was clearly no need to hold me there this entire time.

But I believe that this was done on purpose to try to rattle me psychologically.

That failed.

I categorically and utterly reject all the accusations by the police.

I am not a terrorist. I have no criminal record.

Prior to this incident, I’d never been detained in my entire life.

I’m a product of the diplomatic community and I’m raised to be anti-war.

Both my parents won Nobel Peace Prizes for their work as United Nations peacekeepers. They had a tremendous effect on my worldview and outlook, and instilled in me the importance of diplomacy, international law and peace.

I myself, am a victim of terrorism. When I attended the British school in Islamabad, the Egyptian embassy adjacent to my school was blown up in a double bombing.

I categorically and unequivocally condemn terrorism.

I am a Medhurst. My family goes back 1000 years in this country. I come from a long line of public servants. My father served in the London Metropolitan Police, before entering the UN. He is an expert and an authority on counterterrorism who taught me much. My grandfather was in the Royal Air Force during WWII, and his father before him in the British Army in WWI.

I perhaps don’t have the same career paths as them, but I consider my journalism to be a public service and my way of doing my bit for the country, by providing a counterweight to mainstream media.

I love my country and respect its laws and legal institutions.

I get the feeling, nevertheless, that those like myself who are speaking up and reporting on the situation in Palestine are being targeted.

I had booked my ticket to London on the same day. Yet an entire team of police were mobilized to arrest and question me. This is why I felt that it was a pre-planned, coordinated arrest.

Many people have been detained in Britain because of their connection to journalism. Sometimes under the Terrorism Act, sometimes not.

I think of Julian Assange, Craig Murray, Kit Klarenberg, David Miranda, Vanessa Beeley.

However, as far as I’m aware, I’m the only journalist to have been arrested, and held for up to 24 hours under Section 12 of the Terrorism Act.

Keep in mind the conditions I outlined previously: the psychological element that you’re made to wait endlessly, you’re not told what you’re accused of, nor when you’ll be questioned.

Despite being released unconditionally, I do not feel that my bail is truly unconditional.

I am effectively in limbo, not knowing if I will be charged in 3 months, or if I will go to prison.

Journalism is my livelihood. I have an ethical and moral responsibility toward the general public to inform. But I feel that a muzzle has been placed on me.

I simply do not know if or how I can work at all during the next months. Palestine—the humanitarian crisis in Gaza— remain the most pressing news story in the world, however, it seems that any statement, no matter how innocent, factual, and well-intentioned, can be skewed and twisted into an offense of the highest order.

This is precisely the danger and absurdity of the Terrorism Act that I have always sought to impress upon the public, long before I ever became a victim of it myself. 

It is out of control and has no place in a democracy.

Counter terrorism laws should be used to fight actual terrorism, not journalism.

We cannot call ourselves a democracy as long as reporters are dragged off of planes and detained and treated like murderers.

I am disgusted that I am being politically persecuted in my own country.

As I do not know if I can still report as a journalist for the next months, I kindly ask for your support during these times.

Freedom of the press, freedom of speech really are under attack. The state is cracking down and escalating, to try and stop people from speaking out against our government’s complicity in genocide.

Please stand not just with me, but with the others who are still inside. I know what they are going through, and the best relief is to know that people on the outside are rooting for you, and doing everything they can to get you out.

Thank you.

Richard Medhurst