
Kneecap Defy Politics and Pack Glastonbury with a Message of Resistance
So here we are—Glastonbury 2025—and all eyes weren’t just on the music, but on the unapologetically political firestorm surrounding the Belfast rap group Kneecap . The trio took the West Holts stage in what turned out to be one of the most politically charged, high-energy performances the festival has seen in years.
The backdrop? Accusations, controversy, and a prime minister who said they shouldn’t be there. Just days before the show, UK Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer publicly criticized their inclusion on the lineup, calling it “not appropriate.” But Glastonbury didn’t budge. Festival founder Michael Eavis and his daughter Emily stood firm, keeping Kneecap on the bill—and the result? A roaring crowd, Palestinian and Irish flags waving in unison, and a message that refused to be muted.
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Rapper Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh—aka Mo Chara—facing terrorism charges over an alleged display of a Hezbollah flag at a previous gig, took the stage defiant and free, literally declaring to the crowd, “Glastonbury, I am a free man!” Wearing a Palestinian keffiyeh, he stood as both artist and activist. His bandmate Móglaà Bap didn’t hold back either, slamming what he called a “trumped up terrorism charge” and pointing to historic injustices against Irish people in the British system.
What followed wasn’t just a concert—it was a political rally set to an electro-rap soundtrack. The crowd didn’t just listen; they joined in , moshing in massive circles, chanting “Free Palestine,” and even shouting expletives toward Starmer. Smoke flares lit up the field as Kneecap channeled fury into energy, rhythm, and movement.
Their set wasn’t livestreamed by the BBC due to concerns over offensive content and editorial guidelines. But make no mistake—this moment will live on, not just digitally, but culturally. It was a statement. A refusal to be silenced. A celebration of solidarity, defiance, and freedom of expression.
This wasn’t about publicity—it was about protest. About saying what many won’t on mainstream stages. Kneecap’s message was loud, raw, and deeply rooted in lived experience, both Irish and global. They stood for themselves, for their language, and for Palestine—all while delivering a heart-pounding, politically electrified show.
And maybe that’s what music festivals are meant to do sometimes: rattle the cage, stir the soul, and challenge power. Kneecap did all of that—and then some.
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