It was just one of several moments during the three-week Grand Tour when the boundaries between elite sport and political activism collided head-on. From Bilbao to Madrid, demonstrators lined the roads with banners, flags, and megaphones, calling attention to Israel’s military actions in Gaza. Their target: Israel – Premier Tech.
"The Bahrain team car got smashed"
The tension escalated as the race wore on. By the final week, peaceful protests had morphed into something far more unpredictable. Stage 15 was interrupted when a protester attempted to step onto the course, triggering a crash. Stage 16 had to be shortened due to safety concerns. And most dramatically, the entire final stage in Madrid was abandoned midway, as over 100,000 demonstrators surged into the capital's streets.
“It started off quite peacefully, but that wasn’t the case during the final week,” Mørkøv admitted. “I think I’m quite good at blocking it all out when it happens. But I believe it was the Bahrain team car that got smashed the day before the final stage. That does make you stop and think.”
The most fraught moments came when teams were forced into close proximity. For Visma, sharing accommodation with Israel – Premier Tech brought added layers of discomfort. “We stayed at the same hotel as Israel on two separate occasions,” said Mørkøv. “And you could tell — this wasn’t like staying with Lidl–Trek or Quick-Step.”
Scenes in Madrid when Stage 21 was cancelled
Organisers struggled to contain the fallout. Extra police were deployed, routes were altered, and podium ceremonies were either scaled back or cancelled altogether. The peloton, meanwhile, pressed on under a growing cloud of uncertainty.
Israel – Premier Tech eventually removed the word “Israel” from their jerseys in an attempt to quell the protests, though it did little to calm the rising tensions. The UCI later condemned what it called “militant disruptions,” while race organisers labelled the scenes “absolutely unacceptable.”
In the end, Jonas Vingegaard claimed overall victory, but there was no final stage to celebrate it — no traditional laps around Madrid, no crowd-lined sprint finish. Just a race cut short, and a peloton left to ponder what it means when cycling intersects with world affairs in such a visceral, visible way.
As the dust settles, the 2025 Vuelta may well be remembered less for its GC battle and more as a watershed moment — a reminder that even in professional cycling, sport does not exist in a vacuum.