A new report by Amnesty International raises serious concerns about restrictions imposed on the academic freedom, freedom of speech and peaceful assembly of students and academics at UK universities in response to controversial but lawful expressions of support for Palestinians and criticism of Israel.
Silencing Dissent documents several practices familiar to the Committee for Academic Freedom (CAF) from its own casework, including prolonged disciplinary proceedings that fall short of the standards of procedural fairness reflected in Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights, with the investigative process becoming a form of punishment in its own right.
The report also raises concerns about the misapplication of the Prevent duty, particularly where political expression that “offends, shocks or disturbs” – to borrow the famous formulation from Handyside v United Kingdom (1976) – is subjected to institutional scrutiny without sufficient regard for the protections afforded to freedom of speech and academic freedom under section 31 of the Counter-Terrorism and Security Act 2015.
It’s true that Amnesty badly blotted its copybook earlier this year with A Growing Threat, a briefing that identified 117 organisations, including gender-critical groups such as J.K. Rowling’s Beira’s Place, as belonging to what it called an “anti-rights” movement, and recommended that the Charity Commission review the awarding of charitable status to organisations it considered to be undermining human rights protections.
Nonetheless, Silencing Dissent is a serious piece of research that deserves attention. Drawing on 40 interviews, university correspondence, FOI disclosures and disciplinary records, it provides substantial documentary evidence of restrictions on lawful expression at universities, some of which raise serious questions about whether universities are complying with their legal duties to protect freedom of speech.
At the London School of Economics, for instance, seven students were subjected to campus bans lasting nearly five months following a 15–25-minute pro-Palestinian demonstration. The restrictions prevented them from accessing university facilities and academic services, forcing at least two to defer their studies or alter their academic plans. Internal emails obtained through subject access requests revealed that students had been described as “dressed as terrorists”, while one official proposed expelling them before an investigation had even taken place. Although the bans were eventually lifted, six students received formal warnings.
The apparent prejudgment of the students’ guilt, together with the duration and consequences of the restrictions, demonstrates the risks posed to freedom of expression by precautionary measures. From a public law perspective, it also raises questions about the standards of impartiality, procedural fairness and timely determination applicable to LSE’s exercise of its disciplinary functions.
At King’s College London, meanwhile, an academic faced two investigations after a student complained about a seminar discussing the history of Palestine and Israel, during which the academic had referred to Hamas’s 2017 charter. The university initially closed the complaint after discovering that the student had secretly recorded the seminar in breach of university rules. But following hostile media coverage, it launched a second investigation, conducted by an external investigator, which extended to examining the academic’s social media posts from years earlier. During this period, posters appeared accusing the academic of terrorism and calling for their dismissal, and they received online threats and harassment. Although the proceedings ultimately ended without further action, the experience had a chilling effect on the academic’s teaching and undermined their professional confidence.
Among the other cases highlighted by Amnesty is that of Professor James Dickins at the University of Leeds, who faced having his emeritus title revoked following an investigation into his political expression. Citing CAF’s earlier reporting on the case, the report recounts how, in January 2024, the University’s Jewish Society advertised an event organised with StandWithUs, an international advocacy group active across UK campuses that provides resources to students campaigning on issues including opposition to boycotts, divestment and sanctions against Israel.
Dickins forwarded the event notice to a WhatsApp group for the Palestine Solidarity Group (PSG) at Leeds University Union, adding: “I think a co-ordinated response is needed from Leeds PSC, Leeds University PSG, and staff at Leeds University”. In another message he clarified that he believed “a joint letter of objection to this event to the University from Leeds PSC, Leeds University PSG, and Leeds University staff would be the most appropriate form of action”.
Screenshots of these messages were then published by Jewish News, and a student complaint was submitted to Leeds. The University duly opened an investigation into Dickins’s conduct, alleging that his comments constituted “improper conduct” and “encouraging protest”. As in so many similar cases, concerns about procedural fairness emerged when Dickins was not provided with the evidence supporting the complaint, nor informed of any right to appeal or an appeal timeframe.
Amnesty’s principal research period ended in September 2025, and its account concludes with Leeds deciding not to revoke Dickins’s emeritus title. But the story didn’t end there. Despite widespread opposition from CAF, academics, students and other organisations, Leeds issued Dickins with a formal written warning and withdrew privileges associated with his emeritus status.
It was an outrageous decision. With the help of external counsel, Dickins subsequently brought Employment Tribunal proceedings, which were settled on 1 June 2026, under which Leeds agreed to withdraw the warning and restore his privileges.
Amnesty’s report paints a bleak picture of restrictions on lawful political expression across UK campuses, and CAF would agree with its recommendation for greater transparency and oversight of university decision-making, including public reporting of protest restrictions, disciplinary measures and surveillance practices.
But Professor Dickins’s case offers an encouraging counterpoint: universities can be held to account, and their decisions reversed. There is also reason to hope that the strengthened statutory protections for freedom of speech will make such cases less likely in future. Most of the events examined by Amnesty predate the commencement, in August 2025, of the new duties under the Higher Education and Research Act 2017, as amended by the Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Act 2023. These require universities not merely to take reasonably practicable steps to secure lawful freedom of speech, but positively to promote freedom of speech and academic freedom.
Since September 2026, academics and other eligible individuals – potentially including emeritus professors in Dickins’s position – have also been able to bring complaints directly to the Office for Students (OfS) under its new free-speech complaints scheme, including about disciplinary measures that interfere with lawful expression.
With new mandatory free speech conditions of registration set to take effect from April 2027, university decision-makers will face considerably stronger regulatory constraints on their tendency to allow vague and legally questionable understandings of “hate speech”, “harm” and “harassment” to encroach on lawful expression. Some of the most egregious institutional decisions documented by Amnesty should therefore face considerably greater scrutiny, with new opportunities for redress.