British journalist and humanitarian activist Sarah Wilkinson, 62, says she was abducted in international waters by Israeli forces, sexually assaulted and tortured in custody, and then arrested by UK counter-terrorism police on returning home — all for trying to deliver baby milk and medical supplies to Gaza.
Her ordeal, crossing three jurisdictions and two legal systems, has become a flashpoint in what observers describe as Britain’s descent into authoritarian policing of dissent. Once a familiar face at pro-Palestine events, Wilkinson is now a symbol of how humanitarianism itself is being redefined as a national-security threat.
“They couldn’t even sail the boat”
Wilkinson joined the Global Sumud Flotilla, a civilian convoy of roughly forty vessels carrying humanitarian aid to Gaza, which set sail in late September from the Mediterranean. The flotilla’s participants — medics, clergy, and journalists from over forty countries — hoped to break Israel’s blockade and deliver essential supplies to a besieged population on the brink of famine.
On 8 October 2025, Israeli commandos intercepted Wilkinson’s small vessel, the Handala, 120 nautical miles from Gaza, well within international waters. She said heavily armed soldiers swarmed aboard, forcing nine crew members below deck at gunpoint.
“They couldn’t sail it,” Wilkinson said. “The sail was flapping everywhere, they had no idea what they were doing. Even with the engines at full power it took seven hours to reach port.”
During the chaotic seizure, one of her colleagues, Sura, suffered a dislocated shoulder after being thrown against a wall by soldiers. “He was screaming, but they just dragged him along,” she recalled.
The flotilla — which included vessels flying British, Irish, Norwegian, Turkish, and Canadian flags — was seized without warning. Under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), such an attack on a foreign-flagged civilian ship constitutes an unlawful act of aggression.
Former British diplomat Craig Murray later described the operation as “an act of war against every flag state represented,” warning that the precedent “tears at the very fabric of maritime law.”
Yet Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s office dismissed the incident as “a matter for Israel.” Critics say that simple phrase effectively surrendered British jurisdiction and abandoned the UK citizens taken from the high seas.
Torture, humiliation, and the Ben-Gvir visit
Wilkinson and her crewmates were dragged ashore at Ashdod port, forced to kneel in the heat, and strip-searched repeatedly. She alleges that one of those searches involved a sexual assault.
“It was painful,” she said softly. “I still struggle to say it, but yes — it was sexual assault.”
The detainees were then bused deep into the desert to Naqab (Negev) Prison, where they were held in wire cages Wilkinson described as “animal pens.”
“There was no water, no toilets, no shade,” she recalled. “They shone torches in our eyes all night, slammed doors, and brought in dogs. It was psychological torture.”
At one point, Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir — a convicted terrorist and former follower of the extremist Kach movement — arrived at the prison with a television crew, apparently to stage a media appearance.
“Ben-Gvir came right up to our cages,” Wilkinson said. “We were shouting that we had no food or water. He smirked, waved for the cameras, and left. I told him he was shorter than I expected — and that was it. After that, they made sure we never slept again.”
Wilkinson said detainees were moved between cells repeatedly, beaten if they protested, and subjected to constant light and noise. “It was a whole bag of crimes against humanity,” she said. “They laughed when we asked for water. I was questioned for being human.”
From Turkish rescue to Heathrow arrest
After three days of confinement, the flotilla’s foreign nationals were deported via Türkiye, where Turkish authorities and medical teams met them on the tarmac.
“They treated us with dignity,” Wilkinson said. “They gave us food, clothes, beds — they didn’t need me to explain what had happened. They already knew.”
But the relief was short-lived. Upon arriving at Heathrow Airport on Sunday night, Wilkinson was detained by plainclothes counter-terrorism police, handcuffed in public view, and informed that she faced five charges under the UK Terrorism Act 2000.
The allegations include “supporting a proscribed organization”, “encouragement of terrorism”, “dissemination of terrorist publications”, and “failure to disclose device passwords” under a RIPA notice.
She was later released under strict bail conditions — including partial house arrest — pending her first court appearance at Westminster Magistrates’ Court on 20 October.
“They were waiting for me,” she said. “After being tortured by a foreign army, my own government threw me in a van. It felt like the same system, just with a British accent.”
The prelude: a year of state harassment
Wilkinson’s Heathrow arrest was not her first encounter with British counter-terror policing. In August 2024, her home in Shropshire was stormed by sixteen officers, many masked and in plain clothes. They seized her laptops, phones, travel documents, and even an urn containing her mother’s ashes, which she later found opened and overturned.
She was restrained and taken to a local police station, questioned under Section 12 of the Terrorism Act, and accused of “supporting a proscribed organization.”
“One detective asked me, ‘Why do you think Palestinians are better than white people?’” Wilkinson said. “I told him that was one of the most racist questions I’d ever heard. He laughed.”
Suffering from Crohn’s disease, she said she was denied access to medication during her detention. A medical worker reportedly “walked out” after being challenged for not understanding her condition.
The National Police Chiefs’ Council had, only months earlier, officially admitted that the British police service was “institutionally racist.”
Her bail conditions following that arrest were so restrictive they prohibited her from purchasing any travel documents, including train tickets. She was later ordered to surrender her passport — though police had already seized it and failed to log it, making compliance impossible.
“They can arrest me again for not producing a passport they took,” she told supporters at the time. “It’s a trap designed to criminalize existence.”
A wider pattern of repression
Wilkinson’s case is not isolated. In the last two years, at least half a dozen journalists and campaigners have been detained under the Terrorism Act for their reporting or activism on Gaza.
In August 2024, British-Syrian journalist Richard Medhurst was arrested mid-flight to Heathrow by six armed officers, accused of expressing opinions supportive of a banned group. He was held for 15 hours, denied legal counsel, and his devices and DNA were seized.
In October 2024, Craig Murray, the former British diplomat who once exposed UK complicity in CIA renditions, was detained at Glasgow Airport after attending a Palestine solidarity event; police confiscated his phone and laptop.
Investigative journalist Asa Winstanley, who reports on Israeli lobbying networks, had his home raided by counter-terror officers earlier this year. A High Court judge later ruled the warrants unlawful.
Press-freedom organizations including Reporters Without Borders, Amnesty International, and Index on Censorship have all condemned the arrests as “a dangerous precedent for the criminalization of journalism.”
Even musicians and artists have spoken out. Roger Waters called Wilkinson’s treatment evidence that “Britain is becoming a fascist state.”
Gaza: the moral trigger
Wilkinson insists her participation in the flotilla was motivated by conscience, not ideology.
“We are watching a genocide unfold in real time, and our governments are complicit,” she said before departure. “Going to Gaza wasn’t politics — it was humanity.”
According to UN figures, by autumn 2025 over 67,000 Palestinians have been killed, 20,000 of them children, and 2.1 million people displaced. Famine was declared in August after 400 starvation deaths, including more than 100 children.
Only 14 of Gaza’s 36 hospitals remain partially operational; 1,700 medical staff have been killed.
“We were bringing food, medicine, and dignity to people the world has abandoned,” Wilkinson said. “And they tortured us for it.”
Britain’s silence and the law of the sea
Despite multiple British citizens aboard the flotilla and several vessels registered under the Union Jack, no official protest or diplomatic note was issued by the UK government. Neither the Foreign Office nor the Prime Minister’s office has called for an investigation.
Under UNCLOS Article 92, ships on the high seas are subject only to their flag state’s jurisdiction. The San Remo Manual on International Law further prohibits armed seizure of civilian vessels outside wartime conditions.
Legal analysts say Britain’s failure to act is not just moral cowardice but a dereliction of sovereignty.
“By saying it’s ‘a matter for Israel,’ the UK effectively ceded its maritime authority,” said one London-based barrister. “It’s a betrayal of the basic duty a government owes its citizens.”
The new face of dissent
Civil-rights lawyers warn that Wilkinson’s prosecution is part of a broader criminalization of compassion — a deliberate effort to blur the line between humanitarianism and extremism.
They point to growing evidence of lobby influence in domestic policing. Groups such as UK Lawyers for Israel (UKLFI) have reportedly lobbied for expanded definitions of terrorism and for crackdowns on pro-Palestine activism.
“Foreign-policy interests are shaping domestic law enforcement,” said one solicitor involved in Wilkinson’s case. “When humanitarianism and journalism are treated as terrorism, democracy itself is endangered.”
A descent into repression
Wilkinson’s ordeal — abducted by a foreign military, tortured, and then prosecuted by her own government — encapsulates a larger crisis of law and morality in Britain.
“Britain did nothing when its citizens were abducted in international waters — but arrested them when they came home,” said Craig Murray. “It’s the inversion of justice.”
As she awaits trial, Wilkinson says her kidneys are still damaged from dehydration, her legs weak from infection, and her faith in British justice gone. Yet her resolve remains.
“We were tortured for bringing baby milk to Gaza,” she said. “But I’m alive — and I’ll keep telling the truth. The Palestinians can’t leave. So we have to keep going.”
Timeline: From Raid to Repression
DateEventSept 2024Wilkinson’s home raided by 16 counter-terror officers; devices and passport seized; urn desecrated.Aug 2024 – May 2025Series of Terrorism Act arrests targeting journalists including Medhurst, Murray, and Winstanley.Late Sep 2025Global Sumud Flotilla departs Mediterranean carrying humanitarian aid for Gaza.8 Oct 2025Israeli Navy intercepts flotilla ≈120 nm off Gaza; Wilkinson’s vessel seized.9–11 Oct 2025Detainees held at Ashdod and Naqab prisons; reports of torture, sexual assault, and Ben-Gvir’s visit.12 Oct 2025Deported via Türkiye; hospitalized for dehydration.13 Oct 2025Arrested at Heathrow under Terrorism Act upon return to UK.20 Oct 2025Hearing scheduled at Westminster Magistrates’ Court, London.
Legal Context
UNCLOS Article 92: Ships on the high seas are under exclusive flag-state jurisdiction.
San Remo Manual (1994): Interference with civilian vessels outside declared conflict zones is unlawful.
Implication: Israel’s interception of British-flagged aid ships constitutes a breach of international law.
UK Responsibility: Britain is obligated to investigate and defend its citizens’ rights — yet has remained silent.
Sarah Wilkinson’s case has become more than a personal tragedy; it is now a litmus test for the rule of law. If a British journalist can be kidnapped in international waters, tortured abroad, and then prosecuted at home for her reporting, the precedent extends far beyond Palestine. It marks a turning point in how states treat those who expose their complicity in war.
“They want to make an example of me,” Wilkinson said. “But I’ll keep speaking — because silence is complicity.”