The Prisoners Fightback page in recent issues of FRFI has included regular contributions from people imprisoned as a result of direct action for Palestine, addressing both their own incarceration and wider topics. Below, LOTTIE HEAD, one of the Filton 18 currently on remand, writes about how we see and use the term ‘political prisoner’, while FRANCESCA NADIN, recently released from New Hall prison, writes about the treatment of women behind bars.
(A longer version of Francesca’s article can be read here)
What is a political prisoner?
My name is Lottie and I’m currently on remand at HMP Foston Hall, awaiting trial for direct action to support the people of Palestine. The charges include criminal damage for entering an Elbit Systems R&D factory in Bristol in August 2024. The support we’ve received from the wider community has been astounding – comforting me on long, sleepless nights here – and it’s got me thinking about a term that has been used heavily regarding our case – ‘political prisoners’.
Whilst in prison, I’ve had a lot of time to read more of the history behind this phrase, including memoirs by Angela Davis and Irina Ratushinskaya. While the circumstances are very different, I see the similarity of motivation and response from the government that had led to it being ascribed to our case. However, it has often left me feeling uncomfortable, especially as the time I spend in prison grows.
Now, I think the term is entirely valid. I discussed it with a climate activist friend whilst at Bronzefield prison, who emphasised that, for them, the term highlights the reason and belief behind the actions that led that person to prison. Whilst I agree on that level, I’ve come to believe that the term, at least in this context, is limited. Since being incarcerated, I have met women arrested for defending themselves against domestic abuse, for missing immigration paperwork deadlines that they did not understand, for being unable to comply with impossible parole requirements, for petty theft; for behaviour due to neglected mental health and inadequate mental health support. Every day, I am surrounded by women stuck in an inhumane system, cut off from their families, losing their jobs and homes as a result and I can’t help but think that anyone left to languish in prison is subject to political decisions and lack of humanity from those in power. It seems to me that anyone in prison is a type of political prisoner, some much more than me. When I became involved in activism, I knew there were risks; whereas so many of these women made no such decision.
The term ‘political prisoner’ is important, and I think it needs to remain in our vocabulary, especially given the terrifying sentences being handed out to direct action activists. But I think we would be wise to always keep one eye on our own goals for an abolitionist future. Let us not accidentally deem some incarcerations as just by highlighting the injustice of others. No-one should be in prison – it does not help victims or those accused. It harms us individually and collectively and, whilst we fight for specific people to be released, let us do so as part of a wider campaign for abolition.
Charlotte Head A9213FD,
HMP Foston Hall, Derby, DE65 5DN
Incarcerated women and domestic violence
Female prisoners only make up 4% of the total British prison population, and as such the specific issues that they struggle with are marginalised in the political debate around the prison system. Just as in wider society, class, gender and state violence intersect, with the result that some of the most vulnerable people are abused and violated with impunity. There is entrenched misogyny at every level of the ‘justice’ system, from the police to courts and prisons.
The great majority of women in prison have suffered from serious violence much worse than their own ‘crimes’. They are left feeling incredibly vulnerable and so it’s understandable that female prisoners are much more fearful of the consequences of speaking up for themselves while locked up. For that reason, on the whole they are less likely to challenge the authority of the prison administration, and collective action is much more limited than in male prisons. But who can blame them? There are plenty of cowardly male officers who take full advantage of their position to intimidate female prisoners, which can easily trigger PTSD from previous abuse. It’s no coincidence that severe mental health issues and self-harm are prevalent amongst female prisoners. One in three women self-harm and many others turn to self-medication as a coping mechanism; suicide attempts are commonplace.
I have heard horrific stories from women whose lives have been destroyed and almost taken away by abusive partners. The callous treatment meted out by the prison system is a continuation of this mistreatment in a different setting, that of the state institution. There’s no escape for them and so ultimately they become resigned to it. They are made to feel worthless and powerless in every sense.
To give an idea of the level of violence that these women face, a study conducted at HMP Drake Hall showed that almost two thirds of women in prison have had symptoms indicative of brain injury. For most, this was caused by domestic violence, usually from blows to the head or strangulation. But it’s not just physical violence that affects them, but also coercive control and financial, sexual, and emotional abuse. This can even continue while they are inside, through threats and harassment of friends and family members. Like a friend of mine, who was still being contacted by her ex-partner despite a restraining order. When the prison administration discovered this they blamed and punished her. She had originally met this man as a teenager, when he groomed her in the care home where he was working with complete impunity. Over half of all women in prison have been subject to child abuse. From a very young age this kind of treatment becomes normalised to them, and it continues into adulthood.
A lot of people I met in prison told me that they felt safer inside because they were finally out of the clutches of their abuser. A grim state of affairs. We must never lose sight of the ultimate aim to create an egalitarian society free from misogyny, in which nobody could ever say they were safer in prison than out of it. Yet, even in the short term, many things could be done to improve the situation, if the government had the political will and was prepared to commit the resources to do so. This would include making the courts actually follow sentencing guidelines that take domestic violence into account as a mitigating factor and providing proper places for traumatised women to heal other than behind bars. Refuges are essential to helping victims rebuild their lives but they have suffered severe cuts for years along with all other public services apart from the police. Sending fewer women to prison would save public money that could be used for refuges. We need to continue to argue and advocate for the rights of women in and out of prison to live free from fear.
Francesca Nadin
FIGHT RACISM! FIGHT IMPERIALISM! 306 June/July 2025
