Key Takeaways:

In a career built on dazzling spectacle and universal themes of love, peace and unity, Michael Jackson’s “They Don’t Care About Us” stands out as his most confrontational and unflinching work. Released in 1996 as the fourth single from his HIStory: Past, Present and Future, Book I album, the song marked a rare moment where Jackson, often coded and metaphorical in his protest music, got specific. Bruised by years of public scrutiny, Michael responded not with silence, but with a blistering sonic declaration of resistance.

From shelved sketch to protest anthem

As past collaborator Bill Bottrell revealed, the origins of “They Don’t Care About Us” can be traced back to the Bad sessions at Hayvenhurst (where the Jackson family famously took residence). With that said, it was years before Michael approached the idea in earnest. During the making of HIStory, a double album that functioned as both retrospective and catharsis, the pop icon finally brought the track to life. Recorded across 1994 and 1995, the final product fused pop-rock with elements of dancehall and blues, while its post-completion samba-reggae vibes spawned from a collaboration with Brazil’s Olodum percussion group (more on that in a moment).

With its militaristic beats, snarling vocal delivery and lyrics referencing racism, police brutality and state violence, the track was unambiguously political. “All I wanna say is that they don’t really care about us,” Michael chanted, reframing himself not as the global superstar, but as a victim — of injustice, of betrayal and of societal neglect. A children’s chorus at the beginning further added to the song’s identity. Perhaps unsurprisingly, critics had mixed responses.

The media backlash and fight for context

The week before HIStory dropped, The New York Times ignited a media firestorm by highlighting two lyrics: “Jew me, sue me” and “Kick me, kike me.” Accusations of antisemitism followed, and Jackson, stunned and hurt, issued multiple statements explaining the lyrics were intended to condemn hate — not promote it. “It is about the pain of prejudice and hate,” he wrote, per the publication. “I am angry and outraged that I could be so misinterpreted.”

Despite his intentions, the backlash was swift. Jackson apologized and promised to edit future copies of the album. In subsequent pressings, the slurs were buried under noise effects, and some remixes omitted the phrases entirely. Some Jewish leaders acknowledged Jackson’s remorse and urged an educational approach. Others weren’t as forgiving. Critics like Jon Pareles claimed the song undermined Jackson’s previous messages of unity. Still, Jackson refused to back down from the song’s core message.

Spike Lee, who directed the song’s two original music videos, came to Jackson’s defense. The filmmaker called the situation a double standard and pointed out how other artists' use of racial slurs (including John Lennon) seemed to go unchallenged. Jackson, in his view, was being punished for trying to hold up a mirror to society’s ugliness.

Shooting in the favelas: A clash with Brazilian officials

Determined to amplify the song’s message, Jackson and Lee filmed the first video in Pelourinho (Salvador) and the Santa Marta favela in Rio de Janeiro (per Billboard). That decision caused immediate conflict with Brazilian officials. Concerned the imagery would damage Rio’s bid for the 2004 Olympics, politicians tried to shut the shoot down. One even demanded editorial control over the footage. A judge issued a ban on filming that was later overturned. In contrast, local residents embraced the crew’s presence. For them, Jackson’s arrival was a moment of recognition. He danced with Olodum, embraced fans who rushed past security and turned the favela’s walls and streets into the heartbeat of the video.

Behind the scenes, the production team reportedly had to negotiate with local drug dealers for permission to film, effectively highlighting the systemic challenges Jackson sought to expose. The final Brazil version of the video offered a kaleidoscope of color, rhythm and grassroots pride. It wasn’t charity tourism — it was solidarity.

The second version, shot in a prison setting, was far starker. Released a short time later, it interspersed footage of Jackson in handcuffs with real-world clips of human rights violations: The beating of Rodney King, the KKK, Tiananmen Square, apartheid and war zones. This version aired far less frequently but remains a crucial artistic statement. Jackson’s global fame allowed him to hold up a mirror to the world, whether the world wanted it or not.

A song that refused to go quiet

Commercially, “They Don’t Care About Us” found more success abroad than in the U.S., where the controversy overshadowed its rollout. It reached No. 1 in Germany, Italy and the Czech Republic, and peaked at No. 4 in the U.K. In the States, it stalled at No. 30 on the Billboard Hot 100 but found better traction on R&B and dance charts.

Jackson reportedly performed the song during the HIStory World Tour, blending it into a medley with “Scream” and “In the Closet.” A rehearsal for This Is It in 2009 showed he intended to bring the track back before his death. It also reappeared on the Immortal remix album.

Indeed, what might’ve seemed like an overreach in its time became prophetic. During Black Lives Matter protests, crowds marched chanting the song’s chorus. After the 2020 killing of George Floyd, it was everywhere — from protest speakers to social media soundtracks. Spike Lee subsequently created a third iteration of the music video that merged the Brazil and prison footage with real-world protest clips, including a striking drone shot of Washington, D.C.’s Black Lives Matter Plaza — a massive street art installation that was taken down during Donald Trump’s second term in the White House.

The legacy of “They Don’t Care About Us”

They Don’t Care About Us” is far more than just a song. It grew beyond Jackson’s discography to become a transnational protest anthem, embedded in movements against racism, authoritarianism and indifference.

Critics once called it paranoid. Arguably, history proved it prescient.

It might not be the song that defined his commercial peak, but it’s the one that crystallized his resolve. For all the sequined gloves, moonwalks and genre-defining pop, “They Don’t Care About Us” is the clearest example of Jackson’s willingness to stand up, take the hits and still raise his voice.

Because even in his darkest hours, he believed protest could still move people.

Even if they didn’t care.