Visibility as protest: The PR battle behind the Madleen interception
When The Madleen left Sicily on 1 June carrying 13 people and a symbolic delivery of aid, it’s unlikely anyone seriously expected it to reach Gaza. The Israeli naval blockade has been in place since 2007. Every flotilla attempting to break it has been intercepted. This was no exception. And that, arguably, was part of the calculation.
From a strategic PR perspective, this was never just a logistics mission. It was about visibility, narrative, and international disruption.
The moment the boat was intercepted (as many presumed it would be) the operation shifted from symbolic protest to strategic messaging. Gaza returned to the headlines. And the individuals on board weren’t an untraceable group of campaigners. They were doctors, journalists, an elected politician, a globally recognisable actor, and Greta Thunberg. The boat wasn’t carrying just aid. It was carrying reputations, and by extension, public attention.
Who was on the Madleen
Greta Thunberg, Swedish climate activist
Rima Hassan, French-Palestinian Member of the European Parliament
Liam Cunningham, Irish actor (Game of Thrones)
Dr Baptiste Andre, French physician
Omar Faiad, journalist, Al Jazeera Mubasher
Yanis Mhamdi, journalist and director at French outlet Blast
Yasemin Acar, German activist
Thiago Ávila, Brazilian human rights campaigner
Pascal Maurieras, French activist
Şuayb Ordu, Turkish campaigner
Sergio Toribio, Spanish activist
Marco van Rennes, Dutch campaigner
Reva Viard, French activist
Each name contributed something specific, political credibility, media access, humanitarian framing, or cultural reach. This was not a loosely-formed coalition. It was carefully constructed for impact.
What were they trying to achieve?
It’s fair to presume the organisers had no illusions about the likelihood of reaching Gaza. The blockade is enforced with consistency. In that sense, the interception wasn’t a failure… it was almost an expected outcome. Without it, there would be no moment of confrontation, no global attention, no disruption to the usual silence.
The point was to make visible what is routinely unseen. To force international audiences to confront the idea that even basic humanitarian aid is being stopped before it can reach civilians. The choice of aid- baby formula, life jackets, prosthetics - was intentional. It wasn’t about volume. It was about visibility.
And on that level, the mission succeeded. It triggered widespread media coverage. It made headlines across multiple countries. Footage of the interception was circulated globally. The presence of Greta Thunberg, Rima Hassan and Liam Cunningham ensured the story travelled well beyond political echo chambers.
Personally, I’m still struck by the range of responses. It hasn’t divided people neatly by political lines. The reaction has been a strange mix of admiration, indifference and outright hostility. Some have praised the courage it took. Others seem offended by the very idea of symbolic protest. It’s a weird climate when simply attempting to bring attention to starving civilians results in this level of outrage.
The PR mechanics
Greta’s involvement guaranteed coverage. Rima Hassan added political weight. Cunningham brought mainstream familiarity. Journalists onboard ensured it didn’t have to rely on filtered or external reporting. The story was self-documenting.
Her presence also likely added a layer of protection. Any harm that came to her would have triggered immediate global attention. When someone like Greta is involved, the level of caution increases. It’s uncomfortable to admit, but visibility often buys a degree of safety.
And that was mirrored in Israel’s PR strategy. The moment the boat was intercepted, the Israeli Foreign Ministry began distributing carefully staged images of passengers being handed food and water. They repeatedly referred to the vessel as the “selfie yacht” and the people onboard as “celebrities,” framing the entire event as hollow spectacle. One tweet even declared, “The show is over.”
What’s striking is how hard the official messaging leaned into that framing while simultaneously trying to demonstrate politeness and restraint. Sandwiches, posed photos, cheerful language… It was all designed to paint Israel as calm and composed. But the contradiction was impossible to miss. You can’t insist there are legitimate humanitarian channels while detaining civilians whose entire point was to show that those same channels are being deliberately obstructed.
And now, according to multiple reports, the passengers are being held in Givon Prison, in separate cells, with restrictions on access to media and communication. They were taken there in vehicles with tinted windows to avoid public attention. So while the social media messaging focused on snacks and safety, the reality was detention and state-managed isolation.
This wasn’t just a confrontation. It was a reputational arms race. And although no one side “won”, the activists certainly disrupted the narrative. They forced the mask to slip.
The reaction
Greta received the expected backlash. She always does. But the tone of it this time has been particularly aggressive.
The Telegraph published two especially nasty opinion pieces, one describing the voyage as “the performative hollowness of the left,” another claiming she was a figurehead of a “loony cult.” I had to double-check it wasn’t the Daily Mail. It felt like a parody of what journalism is supposed to be.
What I find most unsettling is how quickly people leap to moral outrage - not at the conditions in Gaza, but at those trying to draw attention to them. You don’t need to be Palestinian, or politically aligned, to be upset about children dying. You don’t need an agenda to say civilians should have access to basic food and medical care. And yet even expressing that now gets you thrown into a category… radical, dangerous, naive.
The conversation has become so warped that basic empathy is treated as a threat.
Final thought
I work in crisis PR. I’m used to analysing reputational damage, managing perception, and understanding when messaging begins to break down. And what happened with The Madleen was a clear challenge to a tightly controlled narrative.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t subtle. But it cut through.
You don’t have to agree with every tactic or personality involved to see that something about this worked. Gaza was trending. News outlets were forced to engage. Governments responded. People looked.
The blockade remains. But for a brief moment, the world couldn’t look away. And whether that was activism, provocation or both, it did what it set out to do.