As the blockade and ground invasion into Gaza continues, civilian engagment and activism is activating to deliver aid, push for international intervention, and increase visibility. This article reflects on the effectiveness and impact of the Madleen, a civilian manned by politicians and celebrities to deliver aid to Gaza, and what it symbolizes about Western perception.
In a global climate where governments are complacent in the face of tragedy and public outrage is in short supply, conflicts and crises must compete for international attention. As the catastrophic Israeli invasion into Gaza persists, the Freedom Flotilla Coalition’s humanitarian project to break the blockade, deliver humanitarian assistance, and open a crucial aid corridor attempted a novel strategy to draw international visibility to the genocide; it relied on the Western celebrity status of its members as provocative visibility and protection against Israeli interception. Despite the failure of the project even amidst the deteriorating crisis in Palestine, the symbolic implications of the endeavor is a reminder that the Global North discriminates in its empathy, a pattern which is reflected in media coverage and persists across conflicts.
The civilian ship Madleen set sail unaccompanied on June 1st from Sicily and was set to arrive on June 8th, carrying essential humanitarian supplies including food, medical supplies, and hygienic products. It was organized by the Freedom Flotilla Coalition (FCC), a grassroot solidarity movement aiming to break the illegal blockade on Gaza through civilian-manned ships. Aboard the Madleen are twelve volunteer activists, including Swedish climate activist Greta Thunberg, actor Liam Cunningham, and French-Palestinian member of the European Parliament Rima Hassan, who have called for an end to the 11-week blockade on all entry that has caused catastrophic shortages of food and medical supplies. Had the Madleen arrived successfully — a hope emboldened by the international renown of its crew — it would have opened a crucial aid corridor to Gaza.
However, the Madleen faced imminent threats from the Israeli navy, and on June 8, Israel intercepted the Madleen, confiscated all aid, and detained the twelve members aboard. Four of the group, including Thunberg, agreed to immediate deportation, while the remainder are still detained in Tel Aviv and are currently awaiting a court hearing. This followed a statement from the IDF that said it was “enforcing the maritime security blockade on the Gaza Strip, and [was] prepared and ready for a wide range of scenarios that it will handle in accordance with the political echelon’s guidelines.” The attack is in spite of provisional measures by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) and the UN’s April 26 demand for safe passage for the Freedom Flotilla Coalition, which stated that “Israel must adhere to international law, including recent orders from the International Court of Justice to ensure unimpeded access for humanitarian aid… The FFC has the right of free passage in international waters and Israel must not interfere with its freedom of navigation.”
The intervention was expected; what is particularly of note, however, is that the intervention was relatively nonviolent — a stark contrast to bombings targeting civilians in Gaza. The Freedom Flotilla Coalition’s previous ship attempting to break the blockade was targeted by drones in international waters on May 2, and in 2010, a Turkish ship carrying 10,000 tonnes of aid to Gaza was attacked, killing 9 people aboard and reinforcing a precedent of deadly intervention. What, then, was the impact of the Madleen’s activist effort, especially since if had succeeded it would have delivered what Israel called a “tiny” quantity of aid?
In visibility campaigns, where individuals attempt to shape government action through public perception, optics are everything. This is true for Israel’s mechanisms of propaganda and in activist movements. In many ways, the Madleen was a publicity stunt — a criticism levied against the effort by the Israeli Foreign Ministry — that took a strategic risk dependent on its understanding of Western interest to galvanize public shock. If it had succeeded in opening a new aid corridor, the heroic appeal of its recognizable figures might have had an important impact on reigniting public interest and hope. But if Thunberg and Cunningham had been attacked violently, if they had been subject to the kind of harm that Palestinians suffer each day, the scandal would have had a different kind of impact.
This is why the Freedom Flotilla’s strategy is so demonstrative of our contemporary empathy climate. While the mass starvation of nearly two million people receives only passive and collectivized coverage in the media, the Madleen’s celebrity members attempted to revive international attention towards Israel’s impunity. With a strong social media presence, recognizable figures aboard, a live online tracker, and no corroborated military intent, the ship’s crew took a calculated risk to test Israel’s willingness to protect its reputation. And if, like its predecessors, the ship was attacked — and the conflict exceeded its delineated boundaries and risked the lives of Europeans — the Madleen would have generated public outrage that could have promoted greater international action. Israel’s course of action was therefore the most advantageous option because it was lukewarm, limited shock value, and thus limited any counteraction of international apathy.
This premise relies upon a generalization that Western perspectives tend to care more about individuals like TV celebrities than people from the Global South. Is this true? The Western public often hierarchizes violent victimization and draws greater attention to some issues than others. One report on the first six weeks of the assault on Gaza quantitatively analyses the reports of major American news companies and finds that Israeli deaths were mentioned sixteen times more than Palestinian deaths, highly emotive terms for civilian deaths — like “slaughter”, “massacre”, and “horrific” — were used exclusively for Israelis, and asymmetrically mention harm to children. The “CNN effect”, which describes the capacity of news sources to shape perception and governmental action, may explain part of public inaction in the Israel-Palestine conflict, which is already a political minefield mired by news fatigue and geographical distance.
An explanation for the discrepancy in reporting — and in general empathy for suffering — may be drawn from Edward Said’s concept of Orientalism, which posits a binary opposition of stereotypes between the West and the “Orient”. This dichotomy creates a contemptuous depiction of the latter and permeates popular culture, education, journalism, and policy. One may compare Western coverage of the invasion of Ukraine to the humanitarian crisis in Sudan or Gaza to notice current manifestations of this phenomenon. In the view of some, certain lives are worth less than others and merit less justice; the Freedom Flotilla Coalition and its crew aboard knows this, and aims to demonstrate the weight of its injustice — while taking advantage of unearned Western privilege.
Outrage on social media abounded during the hours of the crew’s capture, as thousands called for the liberation and safe passage of the Madleen. Discourse was somber and worrisome as many were concerned about the safety of the passengers, and even if the mission was ultimately unsuccessful, there is merit in the symbolic impact of diverse individuals from abroad making substantial efforts to speak out against the genocide, even at deep personal cost.
It is also a reminder of the nearly ubiquitous lack of governmental support for the Palestinian crisis. Neither the UK, nor any of the countries voted in favor of a ceasefire at the UN on June 4 provided escorts or protection for the Madleen, in spite of a historical precedent to do so. Without material consequences from the international community, Israel faces limited incentives to adhere to UN Conventions, to facilitate the flow of humanitarian aid — or to halt the ground invasion.
The question therefore remains of what it will take to halt Israel’s systemic invasion and destruction of Gaza. If a genocide that is live-streamed on social media, TV personalities risking their lives, and attempts to incite a repeat of the Second Gulf War aren’t sufficient to impose real consequences and accountability against Israel’s actions, then what will be? Perhaps the Madleen is a reminder that individuals need not wait for glamorous examples to personally care and make efforts towards liberation for Palestinians — in spite of previous challenges, of continual impunity, and of collective apathy.
This is an article written by a Staff Writer. Catalyst is a student-led platform that fosters engagement with global issues from a learning perspective. The opinions expressed above do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication.
Edited by Gita Kerwin
Noé Beaudoin is a second year student at McGill majoring in International Development Studies and Economics and minoring in English. As a writer for Catalyst, she seeks to explore the interaction between current events abroad and cultural discourse and is particularly interested in the Middle East and climate action.