Scrubbed but not forgotten: Everything that was wrong with Banksy’s latest mural

By William Raven

The Royal Courts of Justice sits, overlooking central London, as a vast Victorian Gothic monument to the rule of law. Its imposing facades belie the many crises currently facing the Courts, from prison overcrowding to suffocating case backlogs. Last week, however, it became the site of a mini-media storm for none of these reasons. 

Instead, Banksy had painted his latest mural. Depicting a judge, in full wig and robes, swinging a gavel down on a bloodied protestor. It told a story, felt on opposing sides of the political spectrum, that the courts and pillars of governance are cracking down, in an alarming manner, on the right to peacefully protest.

The piece is interpreted to be a critique of the decision to add Palestine Action to the list of organisations proscribed by the government under terrorism laws. Undoubtably, the proscription of the organisation by, then-Home Secretary, Yvette Cooper has proved to be problematic for the government with dramatic stand-off’s between protestors and the Metropolitan Police resulting in hundreds of arrests. A retired schoolteacher has even been arrested for holding up Private Eye cartoons “believed to be expressing support for the group” and scenes of grandmas being carried off by up to twenty-one armed police officers have drawn widespread ire.

It is clear that the proscription of the group was misjudged and now that Palestine Action’s founders have been given the opportunity to legally challenge the decision, it would seem that it may not be long until the proscription is reversed.

Banksy’s mural, however, somewhat misses this mark. It could just as well be expressing support for Nigel Farage’s call to leave the European Court of Human Rights. Perhaps it’s, instead, a subtle show of support for Robert Jenrick’s repeated attacks on judges in the Commons. The mystery of Banksy’s identity means we may never know the answer, although, in seriousness, you and I can both safely assume that Banksy has not suddenly joined the right-wing’s crusade against the impartiality of the judges. 

Nonetheless, Banksy would benefit from being reminded that it was the current Labour government who proscribed the group and not the judges. In fact, it was a judge, Mr Justice Chamberlain, who ruled that the ban might “conflict with rights to free speech” and granted the judicial review. As retired Old Bailey judge, Wendy Joseph KC, told Perspectives the role of the judge “is to uphold the rule of law” not set it. 

After posting an image of the piece to his Instagram of over 14 million followers, Banksy drew over 1.5 million likes and 44,000 reposts. The image, confirmed to be staged by the BBC’s former-crime correspondent Joshua Rozenberg, depicts a young member of the bar hurriedly walking past, phone-in-hand.

The mural itself captures the judge and protestor locked in intense and close combat. The judge clearly occupies a position of complete physical and metaphorical power in the exchange, and for this reason it is not surprising that only days later the court had it scrubbed off. Its mark, however, remains. The faint outline, and wide-reaching implications, of the piece pertain to the growing incidence of attacks on the judiciary. 

Despite efforts to justify its position as symbolic of when the “law’s authority becomes a weapon”, the gavel that the judge is swinging down on the protestor has no place in the law and is not used by judges in either England or Wales. Compared to many other judicial iconographies it may seem like a small detail, but in many ways it would seemingly demonstrate the lack of thought, intention and care with which Banksy made this mural.

In the same way that we would rightly criticise politicians for inappropriate rhetoric, we should also criticise artists for poor, and unfortunately consequential, artworks. Indeed, just as artist Wee Nels said in 2021 “you can censor the art…but not the movement”, and art is not without consequence, especially when you have a platform of Banksy’s size. 

Attacks on the judiciary have been growing in recent years, with physical violence in and out of the courtroom on the rise. Politicians, too, have seemingly become more willing to impose their opinions on what is an essentially independent legal role. Without their independence we risk emulating the United-States of America, where judges are elected in costly battles and serve little more than an intensely politicised function. As Trump has demonstrated, with his current Supreme Court, when the independence of the judiciary is lost it can easily lead down a slippery-slope of consolidating power and shrinking-checks-and-balances.

Art is not without consequence, especially when you have a platform of Banksy’s size. 

Banksy’s work has, lately, been criticised for losing the artistic edge and incisive societal commentary for which he originally came to fame. His latest, the ‘Royal Courts of Justice, London’ may now be scrubbed from the building, but its "coarsening" legacy will remain.  

Images: Pressway and SWNS