Well, better late than never, I suppose. This week the Home Secretary James Cleverly announced that the government has finally decided to ban the Islamic extremist group Hizb ut-Tahrir. For some readers this may sound like a familiar story.

In the aftermath of the 7 July 2005 terror attacks in London, the then prime minister Tony Blair declared that ‘the rules of the game are changing’. One of his most ardent promises was that he would ban Hizb ut-Tahrir, a group which was already banned in many Islamic countries that might be said to have a wiser attitude towards the extremists in their midst than we do.

It is hard to convey to anyone in a position of power in the UK just how weak our police have made us look

But Blair’s promise faded away. There were rumours of legal advice that claimed the group would be harder to ban than Blair might have liked. So when David Cameron was coming close to power and wanted to sound like he was going to be tough on Islamic extremism, he picked up the same theme. He too promised to ban Hizb ut-Tahrir in a big way, and he too promptly did nada.

To be fair to them both, HT have been cruising for a banning in a particularly spectacular way in recent months. Ever since the attacks of 7 October, HT has taken a prominent role in those deeply peaceful, completely pacifist marches which pollute the streets of London most Saturdays. And while HT are far from being the only wrong ’uns involved, it has often seemed like they have been trying to win every week’s ‘most frothing-at-the-mouth bearded maniac’ prize.

For instance, it was members of HT who congregated at one of the marches beneath banners which called for ‘Muslim armies’ to arise. Of course the Metropolitan Police observed these and other such events from a safe distance, swatting away the occasional passer-by who said that all this ‘Muslim armies arising’ stuff might be slightly rich fare even for the streets of diverse, tolerant 21st-century London. But it seems that those activities and others were indeed noted and that the Home Secretary has finally stepped in to take action about them.

I suppose we’ll now just have to see whether the ban actually leads to arrests and imprisonment or not. My guess would be that, as with previous bans on Islamist groups, the participants will melt off into other groups and the government will be forced into the sort of whack-a-mole ‘Is it an HT meeting if it doesn’t say it’s an HT meeting?’ terrain that previous home secretaries enjoyed with Al-Muhajiroun.

One way to ensure that they are serious would be to promptly arrest Dr Wahid Asif Shaida, the HT head in the UK who also happens to be a GP in the NHS. But I rather suspect this won’t happen. Instead, Cleverly and his colleagues will point to this ban as one of the very few things they have done in recent years to tackle Islamic extremism in the UK. They do deserve some credit for it, but funnily enough the affair points to a much wider problem in the UK’s stance towards the whole matter. Because for a long time the British police have taken a rather sophisticated approach to some very unsophisticated groups. In particular, they have for years pursued a policy of not getting stuck in when people are breaking the law on incitement. Instead they stand back, sometimes take videos, and occasionally move in quietly when everyone has returned home.

Some readers will recall that this was the Met’s approach when a group of lunatics turned up outside the Danish embassy in London 18 years ago and called for people to ‘Behead those who insult Islam’. A passing van driver noticed this happening in the heart of Kensington, got out to express his own views and was told by the police to get back in his van or face arrest himself.

It was the same 15 years ago at a home-coming parade for the 2nd Battalion of the Royal Anglian Regiment in Luton. On that occasion, a group of bearded maniacs screamed abuse at the soldiers and were protected from the angry locals by police.

Or there was the time in 2011 when a hundred or so Islamists confronted me in London. I remember seeing the police hanging back and taking photos. But it didn’t thrill me that one of those who confronted me then went on to kill Lee Rigby.

I mention these incidents – and could mention a hundred more – because each time the British police thought they were playing a deft and subtle game. They did not want to move in on the Islamists straight away. Rather, if they were going to do anything, it was best to do it afterwards.

While this approach may seem sensible in the police planning room, it has proved disastrous on the screen of the wider world. I still get people sending me photographs from the 2006 Danish embassy protest, suggesting that such protests are commonplace in the UK. Few know about the subsequent arrests of the culprits. Likewise the police’s hands-off approach in Luton not only encouraged the Islamists but enraged the locals. Just one result of that was the emergence of Tommy Robinson and the English Defence League.

It is the same with these recent months of protest and the banning of Hizb ut-Tahrir. The police and government may well think that this sends a strong and lively message about Britain’s intolerance of intolerance. But most of the world will not notice. That horse already bolted. The public has seen the police standing back week after week as people commit incitement on the streets of London. A few might notice this ‘news in brief’, but the original incident gets megaphoned not just across the UK but across the world.

It is hard to convey to anyone in a position of power in the UK how weak our police have made us look, or how much the rest of the world – including the Muslim world – sees us as being completely overrun by Islamic extremists.

In a visual world, the visuals matter. And the visuals from Hizb ut-Tahrir in London will remain around long after its membership has moved along.