By Renee O’Connor, Opinion Editor
The Riyadh Comedy Festival, currently being branded as the world’s largest comedy event, has drawn global comedic talent to the Saudi capital. From Dave Chappelle and Kevin Hart, to Bill Burr and Pete Davidson, the lineup is undeniably star-studded. Behind all the talk of celebrities, there’s an elephant in the room raising discussions about artist integrity and complicity.
The festival is part of Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 initiative, a plan to diversify the economy and rebrand as a cultural and entertainment hub.
This event is a textbook case of culture washing, which is using entertainment to distract from the country’s repressive policies, including the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, the execution of dissidents, and censorship laws.
According to Vanity Fair, comedians have allegedly been offered anywhere between 350,000 and 1.6 million dollars. Comedian Tim Dillon jokes Saudi Arabia “bought comedy”. Statements like this by Dillon ended up getting him fired from the festival.
Thankfully, there are several comedians who have spoken out against the comedians in attendance. Shane Gillis, Marc Maron, and David Cross are a few of my favorites. As Gillis so eloquently put it, “You don’t 9/11 your friends.” Gillis states he was offered a large sum of money to attend, but turned it down for, in his words, “taking a principled stand.”
Out of all the comedians attending, I am most disappointed in Kevin Hart, Whitney Cummings, and Bill Burr for attending. Growing up, these comedians were huge idols for me, and I’m disappointed how easily their morals are swayed.
I believe comedian Atsuko Okatsuka has a brilliant take on the entire festival, that perfectly sums it all up: “A lot of the ‘you can’t say anything anymore!’ comedians are doing the festival.” Yep. Exactly that. The hypocrisy among the comedians in attendance is sickening.
Performing under censorship undermines artistic integrity. Participation legitimizes a regime with a history of human rights abuses, including the execution of journalist Turki al-Jasser and the imprisonment of women’s rights advocate Manahel al-Otaibi.
Many of these comedians have built careers defending free speech, making their silence in Riyadh particularly gross. Instead of silence, comedians could use their platforms to amplify calls for justice, highlight abuses, and support detained activists.
These comedians are showing that they care more about money, than free speech and human rights. And that is true complicity.