Professional Security Magazine editor Mark Rowe is looking at how vertical sectors of the UK stand in their journey to meeting Martyn’s Law, the legal requirement on premises and events to counter the threat of terrorism. Here he covers places of worship.
Like many laws, Martyn’s Law is a compromise. Why have the threshold of 200 for premises to come under the ‘standard tier’, and 800 for the higher, ‘enhanced’ tier? Why make a special case for places of worship, that all fall in the ‘standard tier’; even St Paul’s Cathedral, that hosts ceremonies of global significance; and in the public domain is a court case of a terrorist whose target was St Paul’s?
Precisely to meet the threat of terrorism, especially after the Christchurch mosque terror attack of 2019, the Home Office has run grant schemes for places of worship to fit physical security, typically anti-ram bollards, to combat ‘vehicle as a weapon’ attacks. Even the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona (which suffered a ‘vehicle as a weapon’ attack) has undergone ‘bollardisation’, not particularly in keeping with the cathedral’s striking architecture. In some ways, threats to Britain’s churches are nothing new. That York Minster and Canterbury Cathedral have their own (albeit tiny) historic police forces tells you that churches all along have not been able to rely on people’s decorum. That so many churches on the south and south west coasts have towers was for a reason; to watch for invaders. A few summers ago I walked from Alton to the Hampshire village of Binsted. Well-wishers were decorating the church, and I was able to view a steep ladder whereby Home Guards including the travel writer HV Morton climbed into the tower, to do night duty in 1940. More relevant is that in general the Church of England refused to have its churches put to such military purposes. The Anglican Church, then, is pulled different ways; like hospitals, universities and shopping centres, it wants to (like Binsted Church) be open, to welcome people – but how to keep out the criminal? Whether for heritage reasons – adding CCTV to stonework looks ugly; or because people with faith don’t want to face up to the fact that some of their fellow humanity wish them harm, churches in general would rather not have to take steps to counter terrorism.
Due to anti-semitism, synagogues have had to secure themselves, as the Heaton Park terror attack of October 2025 showed. Preparations paid off – worshippers were trained and ready to lock down the premises, that kept out the marauding knife attacker until armed police arrived. The Home Office’s Jewish Community Protective Security Grant is managed by the Community Security Trust (CST). Separate schemes cover other faiths.
Church halls
Religious services at places of worship may well have someone at the door – like schools and colleges at the start of the working day – welcoming worshippers; which can also serve as a look-out, including for someone acting suspiciously (carrying out hostile reconnaissance?). A separate risk is around adjoining premises that hold community events. A Methodist church hall in a suburb of Southend sounds an unlikely site for a terrorist attack; yet at Belfairs next door to the place of worship the Conservative MP Sir David Amess was stabbed to death. An uncomfortable truth seldom admitted is the displacement of crime; Sir David’s attacker had looked into other politicians, who were better protected. Protective security may only be as strong as its weakest point.
Community cohesion
Leaving Martyn’s Law; less publicised but arguably more disturbing for the prospects for community cohesion in Britain was the disorder between Hindu and Muslim communities in the late summer of 2022. An independent inquiry heard of ‘convoys of cars with young men, sometimes with Indian or religious flags, were deliberately driving past mosques, stopping or slowing down their cars outside the mosque, and often chanting or shouting slogan’. Similar incidents happened around Sikh places of worship, gurdwaras; and Hindu temples, mandirs. The original cause of tension was cricket matches between India and Pakistan; the inquiry noted ‘great fear among their families, neighbourhoods, and communities after the cricket match violence. This included fear of going to the shops, mandir, mosque or the houses of relatives’. While the inquiry noted ‘everyday anti-communal sentiment and mutual assistance’, places of worship (and their car parks) had proved an obvious place for protesters (and counter-protests). While any terror attack shows hatred, what’s disturbing about the Leicester outbreak is that, in the inquiry’s words, it calls into question ‘how residents of British towns and cities can live peacefully and build convivial relations amidst many polarising forces’.
Photo by Mark Rowe: church near Falmouth, Cornwall, summer morning.
