Isabel Vaughn-Spruce is a peaceful, law-abiding woman—but she has been arrested twice for praying silently near an abortion centre in Birmingham, England. In a rare bit of good news for freedom of speech, she has just received a payout of £13,000 from the West Midlands Police “in acknowledgement of her unjust treatment and the breach of her human rights” after she issued a claim alleging “two wrongful arrests and false imprisonments; assault and battery in relation to an intrusive search of her person; and for a breach of her human rights both in respect to the arrests, and to the onerous bail conditions imposed on her.”
Vaughn-Spruce’s case has attracted international attention and condemnation. She was arrested for the first time in November 2022, when she was confronted by two police officers while standing silently on the sidewalk. She told them that she was not protesting, but that “I might be praying in my head, but I’ve said nothing out loud.” The video of her arrest went viral.
In what Alliance Defending Freedom (ADF) UK noted was widely considered to be “the first ‘thoughtcrime’ case prosecuted in 21st century Britain,” Vaughan-Spruce was arrested, searched thoroughly—ludicrously, they even went through her hair—criminally charged, and tried. This was despite the fact that she had never uttered a word and the crime she was alleged to have committed occurred entirely in her mind. Vaughan-Spruce, supported by ADF UK, was acquitted of the charges at Birmingham Magistrates’ Court due to the prosecution’s inability to present evidence.
Only weeks later, Vaughan-Spruce was arrested again for “silently thinking prayerful thoughts on a public street” near the abortion centre. This time six police officers showed up, and one told her bluntly that “you’ve said you’re engaging in prayer, which is the offence.” This time, with support from ADF UK, Vaughan-Spruce issued a claim against the West Midlands Police and won.
“There is no place for Orwell’s ‘thought police’ in 21st century Britain, and thanks to legal support I received from ADF UK, I’m delighted that the settlement that I have received today acknowledges that,” Vaughan-Spruce stated in a press release. “Yet, despite this victory, I am deeply concerned that this violation could be repeated at the hands of other police forces.” Indeed, there are two other people currently scheduled to face trial for similar offences—Adam Smith-Connor, a military veteran who prayed about the child he lost to abortion near an abortion centre in Bournemouth, and Livia Tossici-Bolt, who held a sign reading “Here to talk, if you want” outside the same centre.
Currently, the UK Home Office is set to crack down further on silent prayer near abortion centres with the implementation of the Public Order Act, which will ban all forms of so-called ‘influencing’ within 150 metres of every abortion centre in the country. ADF UK reported that government ministers will review guidance released by the previous Tory government that read: “Silent prayer, being the engagement of the mind and thought in prayer towards God, is protected as an absolute right under the Human Rights Act 1998 and should not, on its own, be considered to be an offence under any circumstances.” That appears likely to change in the near future.
“It is incredible that people have been arrested for thoughtcrime in modern Britain,” said senior Conservative peer and former cabinet minister Lord Frost. “I am very glad Ms. Vaughan-Spruce has received compensation for her unjust arrest for this so-called offence. But if a recent report is correct that the Government is considering formally criminalising silent prayer outside abortion centres, then there will be further such cases, and then not just freedom of speech but freedom of thought will be under threat. It is hard to imagine a more absurd and dangerous situation.”
For her part, Isabel Vaughan-Spruce is determined to continue standing up for women and their unborn children, no matter what. She explained why in an interview with The European Conservative.
How did you become involved with the pro-life movement?
I was brought up in a Catholic family. My father particularly was very strongly pro-life, although I believe it’s the natural default position for any child to be pro-life unless and until they’re taught otherwise. Thankfully, I wasn’t taught to dehumanise the pre-born child.
As a child, I remember a local psychiatric hospital, which had been a community home to people with severe mental health issues such as schizophrenia or bi-polar [disorder] closing down. Many of these people could not cope with being sent out to live on their own, so my dad opened our home to them. I recall myself and my five siblings in one bedroom and the other rooms in our big hilltop house being opened to ‘the guests.’ Some stayed for weeks, others for many years. They later told me these were the best years of their lives—this time was so important for us children too. They taught me to value people for who they are, not just what they do or achieve.
It wasn’t until my teenage years that I began to take ownership of my pro-life beliefs. As a teenager, I used to read a lot of war stories, place myself in them as you do, and ask myself what I would have done if I’d lived in those times: Would I have had the conviction to say anything or the courage to do anything? I gradually realised I was asking the wrong question. It wasn’t so much a case of what I would have done if I’d lived back then, but what am I doing now? I recognised that a whole section of the population was being deprived of their human right to life. I couldn’t just be complacent.
What drew you to pray outside an abortion centre?
I think I was initially motivated by the injustice towards the pre-born child. I felt it was a huge insult to God for a nation to legally dispose of children like rubbish. The abortion centre I went to pray outside was the first centre to open in the country and was performing 10,000 abortions a year. I recognised that each one of these babies had immense value and was an unrepeatable work of art by a divine creator who does not make mistakes.
As I prayed outside this centre, I encountered women in various difficult situations who weren’t ultimately being helped by abortion; they were just having one problem swapped for a far deeper one. I could see them coming out of the centre with empty looks on their faces, being sick in the gutter, or sobbing into their phones. The damage I saw abortion inflicting on these women became a new motivation, as I knew they deserved better.
I started a campaign called 40 Days for Life in Birmingham, where I helped organise a rota so there were two people praying there from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. every day for 40 consecutive days. On the very first day of this campaign, I was praying silently near the abortion centre. A young woman walked past on the opposite side of the road. She called over to me, asking why I was just standing there. I explained that I was praying and that I was there to offer help and alternatives to those using the abortion centre. A terribly sad look came over this young woman’s face, and she responded, saying, “Why weren’t you here last week? If someone had been here last week, I wouldn’t have had my abortion.” I made an internal pledge that no one else for at least the next 40 days was going to be able to say that.
What was the experience of being arrested for silent prayer like?
It was very surreal. On my first time outside an abortion centre, I remember looking up at the room in which the abortions actually happen (a former staff member had explained which room that was) and trying to comprehend that 10,000 little children every year had their lives ended there, yet life was carrying on as normal in the leafy residential street. When I was arrested, it also felt very surreal that I was literally just standing on a street praying in my head (previous to this, I’d never had so much as points on my driving licence), and I was hearing those words you only ever hear on television: “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence … Anything you do or say may be given in evidence.” At this point, I hadn’t even admitted to silent prayer; I’d just said, “I might be praying in my head but I’ve said nothing out loud.”
I also felt strangely at peace. Just like on my first day outside an abortion centre, I knew I was where God wanted me to be, and so although it was clearly a very unpleasant situation being arrested and searched on a public street, I felt an inner peace.
