The summer of 2025 has ushered in a wave of artistic resistance against Israel’s deadly military offensive in Gaza. From the radiant empathy of James Gunn’s Superman to defiant performances at music festivals around the world, popular culture seems to be finally reflecting the frustration of the public to humanitarian crises in Gaza. Yet many fans criticize the long-overdue and meager emergence of pro-Palestinian voices in mainstream media as yet another instance of bandwagon activism—valid criticism, especially when the sudden advent of pro-Palestinian celebrities frustratingly mirrors Western governments’ newfound condemnation of Israel after years of carnage. Criticism from within the pro-Palestinian movement, although understandable, speaks to a larger issue that plagues much of modern liberal discourse: infighting, particularly that of the pro-Palestinian movement’s online leftward fringe.
The infighting that concerns me is not what arises as a response to the genuine flaws in the Democratic Party or liberal spaces in general. Rather, in the age of TikTok and cancel culture, political discourse online has morphed into an ideological Olympics rather than a productive tool for change. Creators—mainly the white, privileged ones—seem to be more bothered with maintaining purity politics and appearing morally superior than fostering real progress. Pop culture’s pro-Palestinian sphere acts as a microcosm of this very issue. The same people who criticize celebrities for speaking out too little and too late, with whom I do generally agree, are the ones who turn on progressive representatives like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Zohran Mamdani without hesitation. Tangible good seems to have become the enemy of the theoretical perfect, prolonging the genuine horrors that continue to fester in the Middle East.
Of course, certain actions (and inactions) absolutely deserve to be called out by the public. Despite what the current administration tries to convince us, many things are just not up for debate—human rights, education, healthcare, et cetera. Holding politicians accountable, especially those who continue to support Israel and disregard the appalling death toll in Gaza, is part of our duty as democratic citizens. The Democratic Party has proven to be deeply flawed, especially in its policy decisions, or lack thereof, to end Israel’s devastating military campaign. But these creators seem to be in favor of some sort of woke Donald Trump—that is, a leader who disregards democracy to bring about their agenda. The ability—and eagerness—of chronically online political “activists” to instantly alienate anybody whose beliefs are more pragmatic, pop star and politician alike, hinders movements far more than it helps.
In the midst TikTok infighting, perhaps the defining moment of pro-Palestinian activism among celebrities came when the most infamous performers of the summer took the stage at two of the largest music festivals in the world. If you have encountered any news about Coachella or Glastonbury, you have probably heard about Kneecap, the Belfast hip-hop trio whose pro-Palestinian messaging has supplied the media with headlines for a few months.
In April, the Irish group lost their U.S. visas after displaying anti-Israel messages on stage at Coachella. In a segment cut from the official livestream, a screen behind the trio read, “Israel is committing genocide against the Palestinian people. It is being enabled by the US government who arm and fund Israel despite their war crimes. Fuck Israel. Free Palestine.” They then led the crowd in an anti-Margaret Thatcher chant and called for the reunification of Ireland, drawing parallels between the struggles of the Irish Catholics under British rule to the current oppression of the Palestinians.
The group is known for their direct and aggressive political messaging. Even before the attacks of October 7th, 2023, Kneecap had shared both pro-Palestinian and Irish republican messages in concert and on social media. Frontman Mo Chara was even charged with a terror offense in May, and the trio has been dropped by multiple venues and festivals for their messaging. Despite a backlash from pro-Israel commentators, the BBC did not drop Kneecap from the Glastonbury lineup after footage from Coachella went viral online; they did, however, omit the band’s full-capacity set from the global broadcast.
What the BBC neither anticipated nor censored from the livestream was an even more vocal performer: British punk-rap duo Bob Vylan. Similarly to Kneecap at Coachella, the duo displayed a screen during their set that read, in all capitals, “Free Palestine. United Nations have called it a genocide. BBC calls it a ‘conflict.’” What really drew backlash from the BBC and pro-Israel crowds was when vocalist and guitarist Bobby Vylan led the crowd in chants of “death, death to the IDF” and “free, free Palestine.” He continued, “Hell yeah, from the river to the sea, Palestine must be, will be—inshallah—it will be free!” The group had their US visas revoked ahead of their scheduled North American tour and were dropped from upcoming festivals in Manchester and Cologne after their Glastonbury set.
What separates Kneecap and Bob Vylan from other artists who have voiced support for Palestinians—and gives TikTok leftists a standard to hold other celebrities to—is the candor of their messages. When performers with a relatively small platform stand so unapologetically and directly with Palestinians, it is easy to criticize Taylor Swift or Beyoncé for staying silent on Gaza. But celebrity inaction, although frustrating, is probably not the problem that we should be trying to tackle right now.
Surprisingly, pro-Palestinian TikTok has, from what I have seen, united around one of the most popular movies of the year—a mainstream movie so tenaciously empathetic that it earned the nickname “Superwoke” among conservative corners of the internet. Using allegorical characters and nations that very much mirror the current geopolitical climate, James Gunn’s Superman not only reinvigorated the superhero genre—one that has increasingly leaned into the glorification of violence and militarism—but was directly pro-immigration and anti-war. Although the script was finished before October 7th, 2023, fans have drawn parallels between the plot of Superman and Israel’s ongoing war in Gaza.
In the film, the American-funded and highly militarized nation of Boravia, ruled by a dictator who bears a strong resemblance to former Israeli Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion, plans to invade its weaker and poorer neighbor Jarhanpur, whose inhabitants are depicted as Middle Eastern. Billionaire Lex Luthor, the film’s main antagonist, supplies weapons and technology to Boravia and profits from the invasion of Jarhanpur. Superman, the radiantly compassionate and super-powered alien played by David Corenswet, seeks to stop the invasion and protect the people of Jarhanpur from the Boravian military forces.
Superman faces backlash from the American and Boravian governments, both for intervening in international affairs and because he is an immigrant (from the fictional planet of Krypton, that is) who the government sees as a threat despite his benevolent actions.
What is so great about Gunn’s Superman is that it not only endorses the kind of geopolitical change we need direly—a permanent ceasefire and a free Palestinian state, as well as protections of immigrants in America—but it is fundamentally a film about the human experience, despite the eponymous hero being an alien. Unlike past iterations of Superman (I’m looking at you, Henry Cavill), Corenswet’s Clark Kent embodies the unwavering empathy and humanity that we so lack in the age of social media and cancel culture. The film also doesn’t pander to “both sides”-ism or other destructive ideologies that often undermine artists’ attempts at political messaging.
Now that we all love Superman, we should start acting like it. Online ideological infighting in the pro-Palestinian movement—specifically among those who only view politics as an intellectual game to win—really doesn’t accomplish anything at all. Instead, we have to realize that our power as citizens of democracy comes from unity, not from cancelling strangers on the internet. And although it is long overdue, pop culture has been catching up—which hopefully we can take as a sign of the larger global reckoning to come.
