BBC and Glastonbury Organisers Slammed Over Antisemitic Chants: MPs Demand Arrests, Public Fury Grows

By Jon Donnis

This year's Glastonbury Festival has become a national disgrace. What should have been a celebration of music and culture is now mired in controversy after several artists led antisemitic chants from the main stage, cheered on by parts of the crowd and broadcast live by the BBC. The fallout has been swift, but for many, not nearly swift enough. Anger is no longer directed solely at the performers. The BBC and the festival organisers are now being accused of giving a platform to hate, and failing to act when it mattered most.

The chants were not vague. They were loud, aggressive, and clearly targeted. They were shouted in front of tens of thousands of people and sent into homes across the UK without censorship, context, or criticism. The BBC aired the footage in full, without muting the audio or flagging any concerns. For many viewers, this wasn't a technical oversight or a one-off mistake. It felt like endorsement. The state-funded broadcaster handed a microphone to individuals inciting hatred, then stood back and did nothing.

Organisers of Glastonbury are facing questions they are struggling to answer. These performers were not unknown quantities. They were paid guests, invited to appear on a world stage. Festival bosses handed them that platform and failed to intervene when it was misused. For a festival that promotes itself as inclusive and progressive, the silence from "The Left" is deafening.

MPs from across the political spectrum are now calling for arrests. Some have gone further, demanding criminal investigations into both the performers and those who facilitated the broadcasts. One senior MP said, "There is no justification for what we witnessed. If this had been targeted at any other group, we would be looking at police vans outside artist trailers and emergency sessions in Parliament." The question many are asking is simple. Why are antisemitic incidents treated differently?

The case of Lucy Connolly has resurfaced as a stark point of comparison. She was prosecuted and publicly named for a tweet that breached hate speech laws. Her case was handled quickly. Police acted. Media covered it in full. She was locked up for years, for what was just a tweet which she soon deleted. At Glastonbury, hatred was shouted into a microphone in front of cameras, streamed live, and met with applause. Yet, no one has been arrested. No charges have been filed. No real accountability has followed. The contrast is staggering.

This scandal has once again exposed what many now see as a two-tier justice system in the UK. Speech is policed unevenly. Offence is pursued selectively. Institutions claim to stand against racism, but when it involves antisemitism, the urgency seems to disappear. There is growing frustration, especially among British Jews, that their safety and dignity are treated as optional.

The BBC now finds itself in an impossible position. The trust it once held is slipping fast. Public protests have already begun outside its offices. Viewers are demanding to know why their licence fee is being used to amplify hatred. Meanwhile, politicians are pressing for an inquiry. Questions are being raised about editorial standards, oversight, and the festival's relationship with the broadcaster.

What happened at Glastonbury was not a misunderstanding. It was a choice. Artists chose to chant what they did. The BBC chose to air it. The organisers chose to remain silent. Those choices have consequences, and this time, the public is watching closely.