Sheeran blames promoter for Macklemore removal after pro-Palestine remarks

Ed Sheeran took to Instagram on Tuesday with six slides of explanation, trying to untangle himself from a decision that had already fractured his touring lineup. The question at the center was straightforward: who decided to remove Macklemore from the US Loop Tour after the rapper voiced support for Palestine at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey earlier that month? Sheeran's answer was equally direct—it wasn't him. It was the promoter, he said, acting under pressure from venues that threatened to cancel future shows if Macklemore remained on the bill.

Macklemore, whose real name is Ben Haggerty, had drawn swift criticism for making "Free Palestine" remarks during his performance. What followed was a cascade of institutional pressure. Robert Kraft, the billionaire owner of the New England Patriots, confirmed publicly that he had pushed Sheeran to drop the rapper. Kraft said Macklemore was barred from performing at Gillette Stadium in Massachusetts during a scheduled show later that month, citing what he described as a "broader history of antisemitic rhetoric and imagery." According to Macklemore's own account, Kraft had organized a boycott among other stadium owners—a coordinated effort to force the issue.

Sheeran framed his role as intermediary rather than decision-maker. He wrote that he had spent the week trying to "build a bridge" with the venues, attempting to find middle ground. But he also made clear his own position: he was "appalled by the conflict between Israel and Palestine," yet chose not to weaponize his platform with public political statements. "I am not complicit," he wrote. "Just because I choose not to speak publicly, it doesn't mean I don't have them, and it doesn't mean I don't care."

Macklemore, who described Sheeran as a close friend, responded with his own Instagram post that carried a sharper edge. He said Sheeran had told him directly about Kraft's boycott threat. Their conversation, Macklemore wrote, revealed a fundamental disagreement: "I told him that if those words were more offensive than the tens of thousands of Palestinian children being killed by Israel, then there was a fundamental disconnect between where those people stood and where I stood." Macklemore criticized Sheeran's public neutrality, saying his friend "couldn't get past his public-facing, 'I don't take sides.'"

Kraft, in a statement to Al Jazeera, reframed the issue as one of balance rather than suppression. The decision to ban Macklemore, he said, wasn't about "diminishing the suffering of innocent Palestinians" but rather about ensuring that "advocacy should not come at the expense of the Jewish community or obscure the responsibility of Hamas." It was a statement that positioned his action as protective rather than punitive—a distinction Macklemore's supporters clearly rejected.

The real fracture came in the days that followed. Multiple artists announced they were leaving Sheeran's tour in solidarity with Macklemore. The list included Irish singer-songwriter Aaron Rowe, the Irish band Beoga, Danish band Lukas Graham, and producer Finneas. Each departure was a public statement, a refusal to participate in what they saw as the silencing of political speech. Sheeran's explanation—that his shows were meant to be "a place of safety and sanctuary" rather than a political forum, that "audiences who attend my shows do not expect a political forum"—could not contain the damage.

What emerged was a collision between two competing visions of what an artist's responsibility looks like. Sheeran argued for what he called "multiple approaches to the same end: peace," suggesting that silence and diplomacy were themselves valid forms of engagement. Macklemore and the artists who quit the tour argued that in moments of mass suffering, neutrality itself was a choice—and a costly one. The tour continued, but it did so with visible absences, each one a small indictment of the machinery that had forced the decision.