
Nadav Lapid poses with the Golden Bear he received for ‘Synonyms’ at the 2019 Berlinale. The trophy recalls the international aura of a filmmaker caught up in the Marseille controversy. Credits: Martin Kraft / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0.
Nadav Lapid will not participate in FID Marseille, where the Israeli filmmaker was to serve on the jury in July 2026. His withdrawal comes after calls for a cultural boycott and the announced departure of around ten films. A festival decision thus becomes a debate about artists, institutions and the war in Gaza in French cultural life.
At FID Marseille, A Presence That Became Impossible
The International Film Festival of Marseille is to hold its 37th edition from July 7 to 12, 2026. Nadav Lapid had been invited as a jury member, according to Tsveta Dobreva, director of FID, quoted by Le Monde. Several selected filmmakers, supportive of the cultural boycott of Israel, then withdrew their films or threatened to do so to protest his presence.
At first, the festival considered a more limited solution: forgoing the jury and keeping a screening of The Policeman. This first feature by Lapid was to be followed by a discussion around a book of interviews. But the protest shifted to this fallback arrangement. Interviewed by AFP, and reported notably by L’Orient-Le Jour, the director of FID cites about ten withdrawals out of 120 programmed films.
Nadav Lapid ultimately decided not to come, explaining he did not want to put the event in difficulty. The term censorship, often used in these conflicts, calls for caution here: no public ban was enacted. The available facts rather describe a withdrawal under pressure, in an institution trying to preserve its programming and operations.

A Filmmaker Critical of His Own Country
The paradox lies in the director’s profile. Based in France since 2021, Nadav Lapid is a fierce critic of Benjamin Netanyahu’s government. His filmography also interrogates Israeli society with great severity. Synonyms won the Golden Bear in Berlin in 2019. Ahed’s Knee received the jury prize at Cannes in 2021. Presented in 2025, Yes is described by several sources as an indictment of nationalist radicalization in Israel after October 7.
This trajectory fuels his supporters’ argument: targeting Lapid amounts, they say, to erasing a voice that already criticizes the Israeli government. In a statement cited by AFP, FID deems it illegitimate to hold a filmmaker accountable for his government’s policy. It also defends hosting voices like his, even if they are later contested.
The op-ed published in Le Monde on June 9 continues this line. Its title speaks of an “intellectual failure” of the boycott targeting Nadav Lapid. It does not settle the debate. But it sets a tension: can an artist be equated with a state apparatus when his work opposes it directly?
What Supporters of the Boycott Respond
Supporters of the cultural boycott contest that reading. In a text published June 8 on le Club de Mediapart, the collective La Palestine sauvera le cinéma defends another interpretation. According to them, the refusal to participate in FID does not target Lapid’s nationality or opinions. It would target the institutional links that surround the circulation of works.
This position rests on a broader thesis: institutions, funding and festivals also participate in the international representation of states. The difficulty begins when this logic meets an individual case. Here, a filmmaker critical of the Israeli government sees his supporters refuse any reduction to an identity or a funding line.
The Question Festivals Can No Longer Avoid
The Lapid affair is not isolated. It occurs in a French cultural world traversed by the war in Gaza and calls to boycott Israel. Institutions also fear becoming the stage for political conflicts they cannot control. For a festival, programming is no longer just about choosing films. It also requires anticipating the public conditions in which those films will be seen.
This pressure produces two opposing risks. The first would be to treat every boycott as illegitimate intimidation and dismiss the political anger that fuels it. The second would be to let the logic of withdrawal decide in place of discussion. Works would then disappear before the public could hear them, critique them, or contest them.

FID finds itself precisely in this halfway point. Its leadership says it opposes the cultural boycott while recognizing each filmmaker’s right to withdraw their film. Opponents of Lapid claim a political refusal, while his supporters denounce the erasure of an artist. Between these two formulations, the concrete consequence is already known. The jury is reconstituted, the meeting canceled and the debate moved out of the room where it could have taken place.
A Borderline Case Of The Cultural Boycott
The Lapid case forces a distinction between several levels often conflated. At the start, however, there is a precise fact. A filmmaker invited as a juror at FID Marseille renounced coming after film withdrawals and calls for boycott. From this episode, before the festival’s opening in July 2026, a broader debate arises about the limits of cultural pressure. Boycotting an institution funded or led by a state does not mean the same as refusing an artist because of their nationality. Challenging public funding is not the same as demanding the removal of a work. And supporting the Palestinian cause does not mechanically require silencing Israeli creators who oppose their own government.
It is this gray area that makes the affair so combustible. Boycott supporters see in it a method of pressure against political impunity. Nadav Lapid’s supporters see an intellectual contradiction. It consists, they say, in depriving a filmmaker who makes critique of Israel a central subject of space. FID Marseille pays the institutional price even before the opening of its 2026 edition.
Beyond the festival, the question remains. If the cultural boycott wants to influence states, it must specify precisely what it targets. Is it a nationality, an institution, funding, propaganda, a work, or a presence? Without that distinction, it risks weakening the very places where political critique can still be publicly formed.