The Zine UK

The cheers of "FREED MO CHARA" erupted when he walked free, but this victory was never really about one rapper beating trumped-up charges. This was about how the British government's desperate attempt to distract from their direct participation in genocide in Gaza spectacularly backfired, creating something they never intended: a stronger, more connected community of resistance.

….And it perfectly proves what we at TheZineUK have always believed – that music and art aren't just entertainment, they're the heartbeat of every meaningful struggle for justice.

The Real Story: Genocide, Not Kneecap

Let's be clear about what this case was really about. Whilst the British government supplies F-35 fighter jet parts that rain down on Palestinian children, whilst they provide diplomatic cover for Israel's systematic starvation of Gaza, they decided to prosecute an Irish rapper for holding a flag.

Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh, better known as Mo Chara from Belfast's Irish-language rap trio Kneecap, was charged under terrorism legislation for allegedly displaying a Hezbollah flag during a London performance in November 2024. But as Mo Chara himself said after his acquittal:

"This entire process was never about me... It was always about Gaza. About what happens if you dare to speak up."

This is exactly the kind of cultural censorship TheZineUK has been documenting for years – the state's fear of artists who refuse to separate their art from their politics. They thought they could silence us. They were catastrophically wrong.

Court Date One: Westminster Magistrates, June 18th

My Chaos Twin Ruby Blue and I made our way through central London that first morning, part of a Palestine solidarity movement that grows stronger with every song, every poem, every piece of art that refuses to look away from injustice.

Westminster Magistrates Court had never seen anything like what the London Irish Brigade organised. Hundreds of supporters transformed the courthouse steps into something resembling a festival of resistance. But this wasn't just political theatre, it was living proof of how music creates community.

People were meeting each other, exchanging contacts, building connections that went far beyond this single case. I watched Palestinian solidarity activists connecting with Irish republicans, Roma rights organisers finding common ground with anti-fascist groups. The government's attempt to isolate had created exactly the opposite: the kind of beautiful, chaotic solidarity that TheZineUK celebrates in every incarnation.

Mo Chara was released on unconditional bail until August, but the real victory was already happening outside – a network was forming, woven together by shared songs and common cause.

Court Date Two: Westminster Again, August 20th

By the second court date, something special was happening. The London Irish Brigade had organised not just a demonstration, but a showcase of everything the state was trying to silence.

Speit took the microphone outside the courthouse, embodying everything we love about political art. Isaac Speitan, the British-Palestinian rapper and spoken word artist, carries both Palestinian and Irish heritage in his voice. Speaking to me after the last court session, Speit revealed he has lost most of his family in the ongoing genocide that Britain continues to arm. His spoken word performances are visceral, transforming personal grief into collective resistance. He's definitely one to watch – his work proves that the most powerful art comes from the deepest wounds.

Na Cairde Collective – "The Friends Collective" in Irish – brought their traditional songs to create a sonic bridge between past and present struggles. The group proved that resistance music runs deep through generations, their very name embodying the friendships being forged on these courthouse steps - quite literally, the musicians banded together after some prompting from Brian Eno at the first court date!

Central to all this organising was Nell, one of the main forces behind the court protests. Roma on her mother's side and Irish on her father's, she represents the intersectional solidarity that makes movements unstoppable. Watching her coordinate between different communities, I saw how music and shared struggle create bonds that transcend traditional political boundaries.

The Power of Cultural Connection

What became clear through these demonstrations was something TheZineUK has always championed: culture and politics can't be separated, and that's exactly what makes it powerful.

The Roma experience of persecution, the Irish experience of colonisation, the Palestinian experience of occupation – these histories speak to each other through music, poetry, and art in ways that pure political analysis never could. When Speit performs carrying grief for family lost to British-armed genocide, when Na Cairde Collective plays traditional airs that once soundtracked resistance, when Kneecap rap in Irish about Palestinian liberation – they're creating the emotional connections that sustain movements through dark times.

Every friendship formed outside the British courts was a small victory against the divide-and-rule tactics that keep liberation movements isolated.

Court Date Three: Woolwich Crown Court, September 26th

The final court date moved to Woolwich Crown Court – significantly, just across from Belmarsh Prison where Irish Republican prisoners could see our demonstrations from their cell windows. The symbolism was powerful: different generations, different tactics, same struggle for justice.

In a moment of pure Irish audacity, Frank, an Irish organising legend in his own right, led us in a (half) joking reclaiming of the small hill overlooking the court. We stuck a tricolour flag into the ground and declared it 'Kneecap Hill' – a symbolic reclaiming of British land for the Irish still under occupation in the North. The laughter and cheers that followed reminded everyone that resistance doesn't always have to be solemn to be serious. Sometimes the most powerful acts of defiance come wrapped in joy, absurdity and irreverence.

When Chief Magistrate Paul Goldspring declared the case "unlawful" and "null," the courtroom exploded. But outside was where the real celebration happened, with music and voices carrying across to those prisoners who understood exactly what this victory meant.

Mo Chara emerged to address the crowd:

"As people from Ireland we know oppression, colonialism, famine and genocide."

Speit and Na Cairde Collective performed again, their music carrying triumph alongside resistance. The crowd sang along to every word, creating the kind of collective joy that reminds you why we fight in the first place.

The Afterparty: Where Art Meets Activism

The celebration moved to Mascara Bar, and the conversations happening were as important as anything in court. In a cramped stairwell, we sat down with Na Cairde Collective for an interview that captured how victory becomes strategy, how celebration becomes organising. That conversation – coming soon in TheZineUK – reveals how deeply these artists understand their role in the broader struggle.

More importantly, I watched friendships forged over three court dates deepen into lasting alliances. This is how movements grow – not through manifestos or meetings, but through shared songs and common struggles.

How Art Wins Wars

This case was supposed to be a warning: speak up for Palestine and face terror charges. Instead, it became a masterclass in how cultural resistance can turn state repression into movement building.

TheZineUK has always believed that the revolution will be won by good souls creating good art, and this case proved it. Whilst British weapons continued falling on Gaza, the state spent months prosecuting a rapper for holding a flag. The absurdity was obvious to everyone and it created space for the kind of cultural resistance that changes hearts and minds.

Kneecap understood their platform came with responsibility, but they couldn't have predicted how the government's attack would amplify their message. The charges weren't just beaten legally but they were exposed as the desperate distraction they always were.

The Network They Built

The real victory wasn't Mo Chara walking free – it was the community that formed around defending him. Palestinian solidarity activists found themselves sharing strategies with Irish republicans. Roma rights organisers discovered common ground with anti-fascist groups. Traditional Irish musicians harmonised with Palestinian spoken word artists.

This is the TheZineUK tapestry in action – different voices, different struggles, woven together by shared values and mutual support. Every connection made between liberation movements represents a threat to the colonial mindset that depends on keeping us divided.

The London Irish Brigade organising work exemplifies this perfectly – their heritage allowing them to build bridges between communities that understand displacement and cultural resistance. The networks they helped create now extend far beyond defending one rapper to building sustained solidarity for Palestine.

What They Actually Created

The British government wanted to silence criticism of their genocide participation. Instead, they created a platform that amplified that criticism for months. They wanted to isolate Palestinian solidarity activists. Instead, they helped us find each other and build lasting alliances.

Most importantly, they demonstrated exactly why TheZineUK exists, to celebrate the artists, musicians, and cultural workers who refuse to stay silent in the face of injustice. Every court date, every demonstration, every song performed outside those courthouses proved that culture and politics can't be separated, and that's exactly what makes them revolutionary.

The Sound of Tomorrow

Walking away from Woolwich Crown Court that final day, I could hear something the government never intended to create: the sound of a movement that's stronger, more connected, and more creative than ever.

It sounds like Speit's verses connecting struggles across continents. It sounds like Na Cairde Collective's traditional voices carrying contemporary messages. It sounds like hundreds of voices singing together, refusing to let the state define the boundaries of our solidarity.

This is what TheZineUK has always celebrated, the beautiful chaos of good souls making good art in service of justice. The Mo Chara court case wasn’t just about beating terrorism charges. It was about how cultural resistance can transform state repression into community building, how music can weave together different struggles into unstoppable solidarity.

The tapestry of resistance that TheZineUK documents in every issue got stronger, more colourful, and more connected through these three court dates. And that tapestry that’s woven from Irish traditional music and Palestinian spoken word, Roma organising and anti-fascist solidarity, Belfast rap and London activism – that's how we win this revolution for the good guys.

The story was never Kneecap. The story is genocide in Gaza, and British complicity in it. But in trying to silence the artists speaking truth, they accidentally amplified every voice in the choir. And that choir – growing stronger with every song, every friendship, every act of solidarity – that's the sound of victory.

Talking of new friends, photo by the lovely Gurpreet Kundi

Our full interview with Na Cairde Collective from that Mascara Bar stairwell will be published soon, diving deeper into the connections between music, politics, and the solidarity that makes both possible.