The case for execution

Exceptional times call for exceptional measures. In 1723, the German maestro George Frideric Handel was appointed as Composer of Music for King George I. This was the height of Augustan self-confidence; Handel was widely regarded as one of Europe’s finest musical minds. His addition to the royal court was a display of ostentatious wealth, both cultural and literal. As part of his duties, Handel was expected to educate young royals in music; however, the Schism Act of 1714 prohibited foreigners from officially teaching without license from a bishop.

At that time, naturalisation was near-impossible for foreigners — how times change. But, recognising Handel’s unique brilliance, Parliament saw fit to grant the German the status of a British subject. On February 20th 1727, Handel’s Naturalisation Act was granted royal assent.

From the heights of civilizations to the depths of barbarism. Today, Britain is faced with another such exceptional circumstance. On July 29th 2024, seventeen-year-old Axel Rudakubana murdered three children and injured ten others. Rudakubana targeted a Taylor Swift-themed yoga and dance workshop in Southport; he was in possession of a number of knives, and enough ricin to kill twelve-thousand people.

Last week, Rudakubana was jailed for a minimum of 52 years. A rapt crowd at Liverpool Crown Court heard the gruesome details of the murders. Bebe King, aged 6, was stabbed 122 times. Elsie Stancombe, aged 7, was stabbed 85 times. The court also heard that, upon being taken into custody by police, Rudakubana told one officer, “I’m glad they’re dead.”

This horrific case will not come as news to anybody reading this article; indeed, the vicious killing sparked a week of nationwide riots in August. Serious questions remain outstanding about the Government’s handling of this case. It remains to be seen why critical information about this case was obscured from the public. Rudakubana had a history of violent and concerning behaviour; he had been referred to the Government’s anti-extremism scheme, Prevent, on numerous occasions. 

However, state failure is not the focus of this article — and nor is the question of Rudakubana’s motive. Others have written persuasively about these aspects of the case.

Instead, I want to argue that Parliament should pass an act which specifically authorises the death penalty for Axel Rudakubana. A life sentence is not sufficient in this case; given the gravity of the horror inflicted, and the enormous cost to the taxpayer of housing this monster behind bars, he should be executed. 

In the Rudakubana case, all of the usual practical arguments against the death penalty fall flat. There is no risk of “getting the wrong man” — this attack was well-documented, and Rudakubana pled guilty to the charges against him. His guilt isn’t just “beyond reasonable doubt” — it is beyond any doubt.

Opponents of the death penalty often cite a principled objection to the idea that the state should be authorised to take life. Clearly, this is not a principled objection that Parliament shares, as the passage of the Terminally Ill Adults (End Of Life) Bill shows. If we are comfortable with assisted dying, we can be comfortable with the death penalty.

And even if we are uncomfortable with assisted dying, most of us are comfortable with the idea that the state has a military. If we are comfortable with this military being used to suppress domestic insurrection — against, for example, groups such as the IRA — then we are comfortable with the state taking citizen life in some circumstances. To draw the line at the death penalty is, ultimately, arbitrary.

Even so, a bespoke act which authorised the death penalty for Radakubana would not give the state any generalised ability to take life. There is no risk that the political establishment could use such an act against dissidents or critics. The effect would be limited to a single individual who is, without question, guilty of a horrific crime. 

And what would such an act achieve?

In the wake of Southport, and the renewed furore over Pakistani grooming gangs, it would send a signal that, as a country, we are serious about the protection of our children. 

Remember: to be cruel to the criminal minority is to be kind to the law-abiding majority

It would, in practical terms, also save millions of taxpayer pounds. The average cost to house a prisoner in England is around £50,000. Across the next five decades, that’s £2.7 million. Given Rudakubana’s particular circumstances, it’s likely that he will be unusually expensive. Why should taxpayer money be spent on housing this irredeemable criminal in a comfortable prison? 

And no, it wouldn’t be “just as expensive” to execute him. The oft-cited cost of the death penalty is primarily a feature of legal proceedings and protracted appeals processes — none of which would apply in this case. Specific Parliamentary approval would bypass any of these considerations; all that remains is to set a date and determine a method.

Remember: to be cruel to the criminal minority is to be kind to the law-abiding majority. Ordinary Britons deserve to feel secure; they deserve to know that their state genuinely cares about the safety of their children. Most of all, they deserve to see justice being done. At a time when the legitimacy of the British state is rightly in question, an exceptional execution for Axel Rudakubana would remind the world that the British Government exists to serve and protect the British people.