“No Further Action” for my Declaration of Conscience
Back in July, I walked into a police station and handed myself in to protest the proscription of Palestine Action as a terrorist group. I explained exactly what I had done, what I had said, and why I had done it. I wrote about it all in detail here. It was an act of conscience and civil disobedience, challenging the government’s attempt to criminalise support for a group that has never intentionally harmed individuals under terrorism legislation.
I was interviewed under caution a few weeks later under Section 12 of the Terrorism Act 2000, which carries a maximum sentence of 14 years in prison. You can read those details here.
On Thursday, I received a text message from West Midlands Police through my solicitor. It reads:
“Further from our phone call, this is to confirm that there will be no further action taken against Mr Dimmack. Please inform your client of this update.”
That’s it. No further action. I deliberately crossed every line they put in front of me. I said, in public and on record, the seven words that are supposedly criminal now: “I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action.” And I did it openly.
Meanwhile, more than 1,500 people have already been arrested for doing far less — for nothing more than holding up a sign.
Who They Target
What does “no further action” mean? The police close the file. No charges. No prosecution. Finished.
But if this law were applied evenly, I’d be one of the first they’d go after.
My declaration reached around 700,000 people on Twitter alone. It was published in The Telegraph. It was shared and reshared across platforms I don’t even use. In total, millions saw it.
Yet I was never arrested and will face no charge.
Now compare that to an old lady standing in Parliament Square with a cardboard sign. Compare that to those arrested just for wearing a Palestine Action T-shirt. Maybe a few dozen people saw them. Maybe a few tourists took photos. Yet they get arrested while I get waved through for going much further.
This isn’t about what’s said. It’s about who says it.
The Ones They Crush
The numbers tell the story. Over 1,500 arrests already: pensioners like Reverend Sue Parfitt, students, human rights lawyers, ordinary people with no platform, no media connections, no fallback.
These are the ones being dragged into police vans, interrogated, and threatened with years in prison. Many will take cautions to avoid the ordeal. Others will end up with convictions that follow them for life — unless this proscription is scrapped.
None of this makes headlines. None of it trends.
The Terrorism Act was written after 9/11 to tackle organised violence and international plots — not activists with paint, not pensioners with placards. By dragging placard-holders under a law written for Al-Qaeda, they’ve exposed the proscription as not just unworkable — but absurd.
Conclusion
The decision not to prosecute me doesn’t show mercy; it shows weakness. They know they can’t enforce this evenly, so they enforce it selectively — leave the loud ones alone, crush the voiceless.
That isn’t justice. It’s political policing. If the law can’t be applied to me, it shouldn’t be applied to anyone. Scrap it.
Support the message? Share it.
One link. One friend. One moment.
