Scottish bishops denounce abortion clinic buffer zone law as Rose Docherty, 76, becomes the first charged under what they call an attack on free speech.
Newsroom (06/01/2026 Gaudium Press ) In what may become a defining test of Scotland’s commitment to civil liberties, a 76-year-old grandmother has become the first person charged under the country’s new abortion clinic buffer zone law—a measure that the country’s Catholic bishops have denounced as “undemocratic,” “disproportionate,” and profoundly damaging to free expression.
Rose Docherty’s charge under the Abortion Services (Safe Access Zones) (Scotland) Act 2024 came after she stood quietly near the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital in Glasgow, holding a small sign that read: “Coercion is a crime, here to talk, only if you want.”
Police deemed her action a violation of the new legislation, which forbids any conduct seen as attempting to “influence” decisions about abortion within 200 metres of an abortion facility. For lawmakers who supported the Act, the goal was clear: to protect women accessing abortion services from harassment. For critics like Docherty, however, the law criminalises presence, belief, and thought itself.
“Everybody has the right to engage in consensual conversation,” Docherty said afterward. “I held my sign with love and compassion, inviting anyone who wants to chat, to do so – and stood peacefully, not approaching anyone.”
Her case, still pending, has become emblematic of the tension between reproductive rights protections and the freedoms of speech and religion—rights both foundational to Scotland’s civic identity.
“A law that silences one side of a conversation”
In a sharply worded statement following Docherty’s arrest, the Catholic Bishops of Scotland accused authorities of betraying the nation’s long tradition of open debate and dissent.
“The law curtails Scotland’s commitment to freedom of expression and conscience, and restricts critical voices from democratic debate in the public square,” their statement read. “A law supposedly designed to protect choice risks doing the opposite—eliminating one side of a conversation altogether.”
The bishops stressed that the Church condemns harassment and intimidation unequivocally. “That was not the intention of this law,” they said. “Scotland already has robust laws to deal with harassment, public disorder, and threatening behaviour. When parliaments introduce criminal offences where existing law is already sufficient, questions should be raised and alarm bells ring.”
Framed as a matter of moral principle rather than partisan politics, the bishops’ appeal touched on what they view as dangerous state encroachment into the private and spiritual realms of the individual. “This is not merely a ‘religious’ issue,” one Church source said privately. “It’s about whether the state can criminalise prayer and peaceful presence.”
Legislating silence
The bishops’ statement pointed to sections of official guidance that explicitly anticipate the criminalisation of “praying audibly” or even conducting “silent vigils” within designated zones. “This is unprecedented in modern Scotland,” they said. “No liberal democracy should treat prayer or silence as crimes.”
Their concerns extend beyond hospital perimeters. The legislation, according to legal documents accompanying the Act, applies to all spaces—private and public—within a defined buffer zone. That includes people’s homes. “A pro-life poster displayed in a window, a conversation overheard, a prayer said by a window; all could, in principle, fall within the scope of criminal sanction,” the bishops warned.
The debate reached an uneasy crescendo during parliamentary hearings when Gillian Mackay, the Scottish Green MSP who spearheaded the bill, was asked whether someone could be prosecuted for praying within their own home near a clinic. Her reply—“That depends on who’s passing the window”—has since become a rallying cry for opponents of the law, who see it as proof that enforcement could hinge on subjective perceptions rather than concrete actions.
“That sends a chill down the spine of anyone who cares about civil liberties,” the bishops said. “Criminal law that depends on the perception of a passer-by is certainly not the hallmark of a free Scottish society.”
Rejecting moderation
During the legislative process, some Members of the Scottish Parliament sought to temper the law’s severity through amendments. Proposals included a “reasonableness defence,” or exemptions for chaplains and pastoral workers who might otherwise be at risk of prosecution for private conversations or quiet counsel. All such proposals were either rejected or withdrawn.
For Church leaders, that uncompromising approach symbolised a broader cultural shift. “A society confident in its values does not fear opposing voices,” the bishops said. “It does not criminalise silent prayer. It does not ask its police or judges to peer into the minds of its citizens.”
Their concern is less about a single statute and more about what it represents: “a profound shift in the relationship between the State and the individual,” one that they say “restricts free speech, free expression, and freedom of religion in ways that should concern us all.”
“The child in the manger has no voice”
In their Christmas and Epiphany reflections, the bishops tied the debate back to the moral foundations of their faith. “As we look to the child in the manger, we are reminded that babies do not have a voice of their own,” they wrote. “It is a shame that the State has now also curtailed the voices of ordinary citizens who advocate for them within its borders.”
Their message raised questions about the proper balance between protection from harm and protection of conscience—a balance societies across the UK continue to negotiate.
A shared struggle across borders
The issue is not confined to Scotland. In England and Wales, similar legislation came into effect in October 2024 as part of section 9 of the Public Order Act 2023. There too, enforcement has been controversial. Catholic pro-life activist Isabel Vaughan-Spruce has twice been arrested for silent prayer within a buffer zone and remains under investigation.
Bishop John Sherrington, the lead bishop for life issues in the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales, voiced concerns nearly identical to those of his Scottish counterparts. “This legislation constitutes discrimination and disproportionately affects people of faith,” he said.
He framed religious freedom as “the foundational freedom of any free and democratic society” and one “essential for the flourishing and dignity of every human person.” Like the Scottish bishops, he rejected harassment but argued that existing laws are sufficient: “Religious freedom includes the right to manifest one’s beliefs in public through witness, prayer, and charitable outreach, including outside abortion facilities.”
The wider implications
Legal scholars and civil liberties groups have long warned that buffer zone laws, while designed to protect vulnerable individuals, risk criminalising intention and conscience. The Scottish case may soon test that boundary in courts and in public opinion alike.
For now, Rose Docherty’s quiet sign has become a symbol—of compassion to some, provocation to others, and controversy to a nation still defining its boundaries between personal belief and public order.
- Raju Hasmukh with files from The Tablet
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