
By a Rotterdam native, for Rotterdam, the Netherlands, and anyone watching from beyond.
📍 Saturday in The Hague: A Protest That Became a Performance
It started like any other protest. A crowd gathered on the Malieveld in The Hague—thousands dressed in black, waving flags, chanting slogans, demanding change. The message? Opposition to the Dutch asylum policy and the expansion of AZC (asylum seeker centers). The mood? Tense but focused.
But within hours, the protest spiraled into something else entirely. Fireworks. Stones. A police van set ablaze. Romeo units in jeans snatching people from the crowd. Water cannons. Tear gas. And a livestreamer named Bender, standing in the middle of it all, narrating the chaos with dry wit and surreal clarity.
This wasn’t just a protest. It was a spectacle. And the question that lingers: who really set the stage?
🧓 Crooswijk Speaks: “This Is Exactly What We Protest Against”
Among the crowd was a 60-plus resident from Crooswijk, Rotterdam. A father, grandfather, and lifelong community member. He didn’t come to throw stones. He came to speak out—for his neighborhood, his family, and the future of his city.
“I came here because I care,” he said. “About how policies are made without us. About how our communities are being pushed aside. About how we’re being portrayed.”
He watched the protest unravel. Saw outsiders—hooligans, provocateurs—take over the narrative. Saw the media zoom in on the flames, not the faces. And he knew: this wasn’t the story he came to tell.
“Rotterdammers don’t destroy their own city. And we didn’t come to destroy The Hague either. But what happened here… that wasn’t us.”
👖 Romeo Units: The Invisible Directors?
In Bender’s video, you see them clearly: men in jeans, hoodies, and sneakers. They jump out of unmarked vans, grab isolated protesters, and disappear. These are the Romeo units—plainclothes police officers trained to intervene quickly and discreetly.
But their presence raises questions. Why do they wait until things escalate? Why do they blend in so well that protesters mistake them for fellow demonstrators? And why do they only act once the cameras are rolling and the chaos is peaking?
Some say Romeo units aren’t just responders—they’re directors. Their passive presence, their selective arrests, their timing—all contribute to a narrative that justifies police violence and delegitimizes protest.
🎭 Els Rechts: From Organizer to Emotional Symbol
Els Noort, known online as Els Rechts, was one of the organizers. She stood on stage, gave speeches, played music, and kept going—even as a police van exploded behind her.
Bender called her out: “Els, Els. Foei.” But she didn’t stop.
After the protest, she broke down on camera. She cried. She said she was “sickened” by what happened. That she “never expected it to escalate.” That she might have been “naïve.”
But she also stood firm. Her message—less immigration, more transparency, and “giving the Netherlands back to the Dutch”—remained unchanged.

Els isn’t a politician. She’s a public figure in formation. Emotional, digital, and politically charged. Like Bender, she represents a new generation of dissent—not shaped by parties, but by livestreams, sentiment, and spectacle.
🎥 Bender: The Ironist in the Inferno
Bender isn’t a journalist. He’s a performer. A documentarian of chaos. He stands in the smoke, dodges stones, breathes tear gas—and keeps narrating.
“It feels like my eyelids are burning off,” he says. Then, moments later: “Vote for me for the Televizier-Ring.”
His coverage isn’t neutral. It’s ironic, absurd, and painfully honest. He doesn’t just report—he reflects, provokes, and exposes. And in doing so, he captures what mainstream media misses: the layers, the contradictions, the humanity.
🧠 Framing: Who Controls the Narrative?
After the protest, the headlines were predictable:
- “Extremist violence in The Hague”
- “Police under attack”
- “Right-wing chaos”
Politicians chimed in:
- Rob Jetten (D66): “Scum. You don’t touch political parties.”
- Dick Schoof (VVD): “There’s always room for protest, never for violence.”
- Frans Timmermans (GL-PvdA): “Trumpian scenes.”
The message was clear: this was right-wing extremism. And the police response was necessary.
But who were the actual protesters? Who threw the stones? Who lit the fires? And who came to speak, not to destroy?
The Crooswijker knows: “This is exactly what we protest against.”
🧃 Rotterdam: City of Protest, Not Spectacle
Rotterdam has a long history of protest. From dockworker strikes to neighborhood marches, the city has always stood up. But it’s done so with dignity, clarity, and care.
When outsiders hijack the narrative—when hooligans and provocateurs define the image—Rotterdam loses more than its voice. It loses its identity.
“We don’t burn our own streets,” the Crooswijker says. “We protect them.”
🔥 The Burned Police Van: A Familiar Image?
The burning police van in The Hague wasn’t the first. Similar scenes played out in Rotterdam during past protests—especially in 2021 and 2023. Vehicles torched. Shots fired. Chaos unleashed.
But again, locals questioned: who benefits from this destruction? Who lets it happen? And who uses it to justify repression?
Romeo units were present then too. And the pattern repeats: escalation, spectacle, and a media narrative that erases the original message.
🎬 The New Protest Generation: Emotion, Irony, and Digital Power
Els Rechts and Bender aren’t traditional activists. They’re part of a new wave—one that blends emotion, irony, and digital presence.
- Els cries on camera, pleads for understanding, and holds firm to her beliefs.
- Bender jokes through tear gas, critiques the chaos, and turns protest into performance.
Together, they represent a shift. Protest isn’t just about signs and speeches anymore. It’s about livestreams, viral clips, and public personas. It’s messy, raw, and deeply human.
📣 To Rotterdam, the Netherlands, and Beyond:
Protest is not a crime. Emotion is not weakness. And chaos is not always what it seems.
Listen to the voices. Look past the headlines. Ask: who benefits when things fall apart?
Because if we only react to spectacle, we lose the message. And if we lose the message, we lose each other.




Leave a comment