GraffitiBremen

Louis Theroux returns to the West Bank probing the rise of far‑right Israeli settler ideology amid the backdrop of the Gaza war . He embeds himself with extremist figures, including “godmother” settler Daniella Weiss and an armed Texan settler, using his calm, faux‑naïve approach to draw out stark admissions. One settler, openly clutching a rifle, declares Palestinians a “death cult,” while Weiss speaks of plans to resettle Gaza with some 800 families . Filming alongside Palestinian activist Issa Amro in Hebron, Theroux witnesses the daily reality of military checkpoints, restricted access to olive groves, and the impact of settler expansion on Palestinian communities . Despite airing on BBC in late April  , the documentary was abruptly removed after protests by settler advocates highlighting its “chilling” portrayal of ultra‑nationalist ideology . Critics applauded Theroux’s shift to a more confrontational “perpetrator‑focused” method, emphasizing how rare it is to let extremists sp...

Louis Theroux returns to the West Bank probing the rise of far‑right Israeli settler ideology amid the backdrop of the Gaza war . He embeds himself with extremist figures, including “godmother” settler Daniella Weiss and an armed Texan settler, using his calm, faux‑naïve approach to draw out stark admissions. One settler, openly clutching a rifle, declares Palestinians a “death cult,” while Weiss speaks of plans to resettle Gaza with some 800 families . Filming alongside Palestinian activist Issa Amro in Hebron, Theroux witnesses the daily reality of military checkpoints, restricted access to olive groves, and the impact of settler expansion on Palestinian communities . Despite airing on BBC in late April  , the documentary was abruptly removed after protests by settler advocates highlighting its “chilling” portrayal of ultra‑nationalist ideology . Critics applauded Theroux’s shift to a more confrontational “perpetrator‑focused” method, emphasizing how rare it is to let extremists sp...

In recent months, Western leaders and media outlets have erupted in outrage — not at the mass killing of Palestinian civilians, not at the leveling of entire neighborhoods in Gaza, and not at the starvation used as a weapon of war — but at musicians daring to say “Free Palestine” or chant “Death to IDF” on stage. Bands have been canceled, statements denounced, tours threatened — all for daring to speak, to sing, or to rage in solidarity with a people being systematically destroyed. Yet the same voices condemning these artists remain conspicuously silent about the Israeli government’s unrelenting campaign of destruction in Palestine. Over the past two years, Israel’s war machine has inflicted a scale of violence that human rights organizations, legal scholars, and global observers increasingly describe as genocidal. Entire families erased. Hospitals bombed. Children killed by the thousands. But somehow, it is the artists who are seen as the problem. This grotesque inversion of priorit...