Protesters in Venice March Through Streets as City Becomes the First in the World to Charge Tourists a Daily Entry Fee

Protesters in Venice March Through Streets as City Becomes the First in the World to Charge Tourists a Daily Entry Fee

Just weeks ago, they were riding high on the Coachella stage, capturing the attention of music lovers across the globe.

But the Irish hip-hop group Kneecap has quickly gone from festival darlings to facing widespread backlash, police investigations, and cancelled gigs—all because of their explosive political messaging.

A Provocative Performance at Coachella

At Coachella, where stars shine and controversies simmer, Kneecap didn’t hold back.

One of the members donned a tricolour Irish balaclava as rapper Mo Chara took the mic and shouted to cheering fans: “If anybody was wondering, Margaret Thatcher’s still dead.”

The crowd erupted into a chant of “Maggie’s in a box,” followed by a political monologue condemning both British presence in Ireland and Israeli actions in Palestine.

The moment ended with the slogan “Tiocfaidh ár lá”—an old Republican catchphrase once echoed by IRA terrorists.

From Underground Act to Global Spotlight

This brash performance capped off Kneecap’s meteoric rise.

In just two years, the group, formed in West Belfast, evolved from local provocateurs into global icons.

Critics, however, claim their success is built on glamorizing violence, playing with IRA imagery, and exploiting the darker chapters of Irish history to appeal to younger fans far removed from the horrors of The Troubles.

The Backlash Begins

But their Coachella act didn’t go unnoticed. The band was quickly dropped by a major U.S. sponsor and saw gigs scrapped amid growing concern over their political rhetoric.

Then came a more serious development: counter-terrorism officers launched an investigation into videos where the band allegedly incites support for terror groups.

One of the tipping points? A second Coachella set where the group performed in front of a projected slogan: “F** Israel, Free Palestine.”*

Days later, footage emerged showing a member appearing to shout “Up Hamas, up Hezbollah” while wrapped in Hezbollah’s flag.

Both groups are banned in the UK.

Dangerous Lyrics and Past Performances

Kneecap’s past is filled with similarly troubling moments.

In one 2023 video, a member shouts: “The only good Tory is a dead Tory. Kill your local MP.” Understandably, this sparked outrage—especially from the families of murdered MPs Jo Cox and Sir David Amess.

The band issued an apology but also accused the media and British establishment of orchestrating a smear campaign.

Despite distancing themselves from Hamas and Hezbollah and claiming to oppose attacks on civilians, the damage was done.

Artists Rally Behind Kneecap

Amid the uproar, dozens of music industry voices—including Paul Weller, Pulp, the Pogues, and Primal Scream—signed an open letter defending Kneecap’s right to artistic expression.

BBC Radio 1 DJ Annie Mac added her name too, with supporters calling the reaction to the band a form of censorship.

Kneecap insisted that their message is one of “love, inclusion, and hope”—though many find that claim difficult to square with their track record.

A History of Provocation

Kneecap was formed in 2017 by Mo Chara (Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh), Móglaí Bap (Naoise Ó Cairealláin), and DJ Próvaí (JJ Ó Dochartaigh)—all born after the IRA ceasefire and the Good Friday Agreement.

But their content frequently hearkens back to darker days.

Their debut song C.E.A.R.T.A emerged after they were caught tagging “cearta” (Irish for “rights”) on a bus stop.

The song, filled with drug references and anti-police sentiment, briefly made it onto Irish broadcaster RTE before being pulled.

In another early single, the promo image showed a band member holding a nail-studded hurling stick beside a tied-up policeman.

The lyrics offered violent choices: “Do ya want it in your chest? / Or your knees or your head?”

Antagonistic Acts and Shocking Imagery

In 2019, a day after a visit from Prince William and Kate, the group led a “Get the Brits out” chant at Belfast’s Empire Music Hall—later brushing it off as a Brexit reference.

DJ Próvaí wore a balaclava to hide his identity from the school where he taught Irish—until he lost that job in 2020 after a video surfaced of him with “Brits out” painted on his buttocks during a show.

In 2021, they tweeted “Finally some gd news” in response to reports of rising IRA support among teens.

Another promo showed Boris Johnson and Arlene Foster strapped to a rocket beside petrol bomb-wielding bandmates.

In 2022, they painted a mural of a burning police Land Rover above the slogan “No welcome for the RUC”—a chilling nod to the more than 300 murdered RUC officers during the Troubles.

A Polarizing Stance on Palestine

Kneecap’s activism has extended to the Middle East conflict too.

Just a week after Hamas’ deadly attacks in Israel in October 2023, the group posted a Palestinian flag graphic stating: “Resistance is Not Terrorism.”

Later that year, they met with Jeremy Corbyn, who thanked them for “inspiring so many people.”

Former Sinn Féin leader Gerry Adams has also publicly supported them.

Their manager Daniel Lambert—an ex-Irish diplomat—has also taken a strong pro-Palestinian stance, even quoting Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar on social media.

Lambert’s legal team insists none of this amounts to support for terrorism.

Funded by Public Money and Backed by the BBC

Despite all the controversy, Kneecap has received £1.6 million in public funds.

Their semi-autobiographical film, simply titled Kneecap, was funded in part by the National Lottery and Northern Ireland Screen, the latter of which receives UK taxpayer money.

Critics—including victims of IRA violence—have slammed the use of public funds for what they see as glorification of sectarianism.

The BBC, meanwhile, gave them glowing coverage in early 2024, barely touching on their contentious past.

When their film premiered at Sundance, they rolled up in a graffitied armored police Land Rover—and walked away with the Audience Award.

They later snagged a BAFTA, with support from the likes of Sir Elton John, who called them “extraordinary.”

Legal Victories and Political Condemnation

After former minister Kemi Badenoch blocked a grant to Kneecap, the band sued for discrimination and won £14,250—courtesy of the taxpayer.

They gleefully declared they’d taken “the King’s money,” though many argue it came from hardworking citizens, not royalty.

But the tide is turning. Now even Prime Minister Keir Starmer has called their comments “completely unacceptable.”

Badenoch is pushing for prosecution based on recent footage. The pressure is mounting.

From Street Rhymes to the Political Crossfire

Whether you see Kneecap as rebellious artists or reckless provocateurs, one thing is clear: their rise has sparked a fierce cultural debate.

Can political art cross the line? Or is this simply the cost of creative freedom?

For now, Kneecap remains defiant—standing at the center of a storm they helped create.