Sportwashing or Hatewashing? Dutch Cycling Event Targeted by Anti-Israel Group

This Sunday, thousands will line the roads of the province of Limburg in the south of the Netherlands for the Amstel Gold Race, a beloved cycling event held annually since 1966. The race symbolizes community pride, international friendship, and Maastricht’s historical and European spirit. But this year, that spirit is being hijacked by a radical student group, Free Palestine Maastricht (FPM), which has publicly called to disrupt the event due to the participation of the Israeli cycling team, Israel – Premier Tech, co-founded by Israeli entrepreneur Ron Baron. One of their riders, Nadav Raisberg, is a promising young Israeli cyclist. According to FPM’s Instagram, their objection is based on claims of “sportwashing,” accusing Israel of using sports events to distract from alleged “genocide” and human rights violations against Palestinians.

FPM claims to be a solidarity group, yet since Hamas’ attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, it has promoted extremist rhetoric. On that tragic day, as Israelis and their friends were massacred, kidnapped, and raped, FPM celebrated Hamas’ attack as an “astonishing response,” glorifying violence openly on Instagram and embracing the paraglider as a symbol of celebration.

Even more troubling: Maastricht University provides institutional support to FPM via its Sustainability Hub. Using university facilities, in May 2024 FPM organized an occupation of the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences—where I teach Holocaust history—demanding that the university sever ties with Israeli institutions. They falsely accused the Hebrew University of Jerusalem of using harvested Palestinian organs, a medieval-style blood libel met by institutional silence.

The hostility nurtured by groups like FPM has real-world consequences. In November 2024, anti-Israel activists violently targeted Jewish fans of Maccabi Tel Aviv in Amsterdam. FPM responded by explicitly expressing solidarity with their “comrades” involved in these attacks and publicly posting the slogan “Kill all Zionists,” thus connecting hatred incubated on campus with street violence.

Last month, FPM called for—and executed—the disruption of a public lecture by Rawan Osman, a Syrian-born author critical of antisemitism, organized by StandWithUs and the Dutch Union of Jewish Students (IJAR). Her event at Maastricht University was forcefully interrupted, with activists surrounding the building and making it impossible for Osman to speak. Ernst de Reus, chairman of the Jewish community in Limburg, described the situation by saying, “We felt naked and unprotected,” emphasizing their fears for physical safety. Ultimately, the police had to intervene to free the building, and attendees—including myself—were escorted by officers and security personnel through a corridor of protesters shouting “shame on you.” This incident exemplifies how extremist campus activism seeks to silence pro-Israel voices and makes Jewish-organized events impossible.

FPM isn’t just shouting slogans; they’re actively fundraising. Their chosen beneficiary? The Sanabel Team (Pal.Gaza14), a Gaza-based group whose fundraising was blocked by PayPal due to extremist affiliations. After the violent attack in Amsterdam, Sanabel publicly supported the assailants, declaring ominously, “October 7 will not stop.” Maastricht University, however, continues to let FPM host fundraising activities.

FPM didn’t emerge from nowhere. It follows directly in the footsteps of Students for Justice in Palestine Maastricht (SJPM), active since 2015. SJPM invited extremist figures like plane hijacker Leila Khaled and Mohammed Khatib of the terrorist-affiliated Samidoun network for lectures, normalizing radical voices on campus and aligning itself with groups like Samidoun. Today’s FPM continues this troubling legacy.

In recent research, Eliyahu Sapir and I conducted into antisemitism at Dutch universities. Jewish and Israeli students and staff shared alarming stories also about Maastricht University. One stopped openly wearing her Star of David. Another had to quit an internship after supervisors questioned her professionalism solely for acknowledging her Jewish background. Students recounted hearing shouts of “Hitler!” and “The Germans didn’t finish the job!” One said simply: “I used to say I was from Israel—I don’t anymore.” This is not paranoia. It’s silencing, intimidation, and exclusion, happening openly in 2025, on a university campus in the Netherlands.

When extremists target a sports event for political protest, we are witnessing a poisoning of public life. Yet there is hope. Despite institutional passivity, ordinary Dutch citizens are speaking out against the use of their beloved cycling event as a stage for hate.

Perhaps this grassroots rejection—quiet, unorganized, deeply authentic—marks the turning point. Not institutional courage, but popular resistance. Not policy decrees, but common decency. In a country where confrontation is rare, it’s the voice of the “ordinary person,” the everyday citizen, that might finally stem this tide of hate against Israel and hate against Jews.