RUTHFULLY YOURS

Since her school strike in the fall of 2018, then-15-year-old Greta Thunberg has become arguably the most prolific activist in the world. Recently, she has found herself detained by the Israeli military for the second time in less than four months, after she and the so-called Freedom Flotilla Coalition attempted to breach the Israeli naval blockade of Gaza.

For a brief period, Thunberg appeared to be leaving her activist life behind. Since 2020, climate issues have lost much of the grip they had on voters during the latter half of the 2010s. Faced with rising inflation, policymakers have turned their focus back to pocketbook issues. Greta herself appeared to be ready to turn the page as she enrolled at Stockholm University in the fall of 2023.

Unlike many of her other political opponents, I genuinely wished her well upon hearing this. Greta’s life story, far from inspiring, is in fact quite sad. As news spread internationally of her school strike outside the Swedish parliament, she was generally depicted as an ordinary teenager who had had enough of climate inaction.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Greta, in fact, hails from a family of celebrities. Her mother, Malena Ernman, is a famous opera singer who once represented Sweden in the Eurovision Song Contest, the world’s largest music competition. Her father, Svante Thunberg, is an actor and producer, and so were both of her late paternal grandparents. A year before Greta — supposedly of her own accord — decided to go on her school strike, her mother had published an opinion piece in Dagens Nyheter, Sweden’s newspaper of record, arguing in favor of stronger climate action.

Malena Ernman would later claim that she was recruited into environmentalism by Greta rather than the other way around. We may never know for sure, but we do know that Greta’s school strike was not her first extended absence from school. Years before Greta was famous in her own right, her mother spoke extensively about her daughter’s mental health struggles. She revealed that she even had to take Greta out of school for months at a time and stay home with her around the clock to make sure she ate. Around this time, Greta was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, an autism spectrum disorder.

Greta’s shift to pro-Palestinian activism after October 7, 2023, mirrors a broader trend of left-wing activists pivoting to the “next big thing” as climate issues lost political traction. Her embrace of radical causes suggests a pattern: a young woman, shaped by a celebrity family and intense public scrutiny, may be struggling to reclaim the spotlight that once defined her.

In any case, the Gaza flotilla, like the narrative of Greta Thunberg as an ordinary climate-conscious teenage girl, is built on lies and fantasies.

Much as Greta’s true background isn’t well known outside of Sweden, neither is the story of the “Freedom Flotilla Coalition,” which began in Sweden in 2010. Its members attempt to portray themselves as a coalition of ordinary, concerned citizens, but even the very first ship to Gaza 15 years ago was a celebrity voyage. Passengers included author Henning Mankel, musician Dror Feiler, and historians Mattias Gardell and Edda Manga. All of them are famous in Sweden.

The voyages to Gaza, while unsuccessful at breaking the blockade, have become a successful tool for fading celebrities in Sweden who seek to remain relevant. The ships are also popular among politicians seeking to either revive or jumpstart their careers, such as Mehmet Kaplan, who served as Sweden’s minister of housing and urban development before resigning in disgrace after his ties to extreme Islamist groups in Turkey were exposed.

The latest voyage includes no fewer than 16 current members of parliament from various countries, though only one from Sweden. The lone Swedish MP, Lorena Delgado Varas, was recently expelled from the Left Party for sharing an antisemitic social media post. She is now working with fellow expelled members to create a new party ahead of next year’s general election. Her participation can be considered a well-timed PR stunt, and this is likely the case for many of the other elected officials, too. This also helps explain why the flotilla refused all offers to have the aid delivered to Gaza by third countries, including an offer from the pope.

Other than washed-up celebrities and policymakers, the recent flotilla also included a number of people with ties to Hamas and radical Islam. The pro-Palestinian coalition has always been a strange one, including both secular left-wing activists and ardent conservative Muslims. This clash of values was on full display during the recent voyage: At least one boat was reserved for women only, and one coordinator quit in the middle of the trip to protest the presence of LGBT activists.

What the voyage will no doubt be most remembered for, however, are the purported drone attacks that led two countries (Italy and Spain) to send military ships to escort the flotilla. No independent body has confirmed the attacks, and it appears unlikely that the flotilla was targeted by Israel as the ships were not destroyed but only had to stop for repairs, extending the voyage and lengthening the activists’ time in the spotlight.

Thanks to these delays, the boats arrived in time for Yom Kippur. If this was what the activists planned, it backfired. An attack on a synagogue in Manchester, in the United Kingdom, left two people dead last Thursday, just hours after the flotilla was boarded and its passengers arrested. While the attack was unrelated to the flotilla, the pro-Palestinian demonstrations that took place that day to call for the release of the voyage passengers came off as tone-deaf at best.

Meanwhile, in Sweden, the government — at this point fed up with Greta and her friends — had refused demands to call for her and the other Swedish passengers’ release, or to condemn Israel’s actions in upholding the blockade. (Greta was deported to Greece on Monday.) Pro-Palestinian journalists have noted with dismay that the interception of the flotilla has received more attention abroad than in Sweden, where, after eleven flotillas in 15 years, the act is now wearing thin.

Greta’s story is less inspiring than tragic. Her rapid rise from troubled teenager to global icon was driven by forces beyond her control: celebrity parents, media hype, and a movement eager to exploit her sincerity. Her struggles with Asperger’s and mental illness, detailed by her mother years before the school strike, paint a picture of a young woman ill equipped for the pressures of fame. Her pivot to the Gaza flotilla, a cause as performative as it is futile, suggests she remains caught in a cycle of activism that offers little hope for the normal life she deserves.

Fortunately, in the middle of September, Greta unexpectedly stepped down from her leadership role in the Freedom Flotilla Coalition, while still agreeing to complete the voyage. For her sake — and for the sake of a world weary of performative activism — we should hope her resignation marks a turning point that allows her to finally escape the spotlight and find the ordinary life she was never allowed to live.