Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kayleigh Donaldson | Celebrity | October 1, 2025
The Riyadh Comedy Festival kicked off last week in Saudi Arabia. The line-up is a starry ensemble of major stand-up stars, total creeps, and podcast bros. It was the least surprising news of the century to see pushback to the idea of an arts event being hosted and funded by a dictatorship with an abysmal human rights record. The entire mess entered the realms of parody when it was revealed that participants, many of whom are bellowing regulars in the ‘you can’t say anything these days’ crowd, were contractually required not to perform material that would violate the country’s stifling censorship laws. What, you’re telling me that Jimmy Carr, Dave Chappelle, and Andrew Schulz aren’t nervy truth-tellers who spit in the face of political correctness? My monocle just popped off.
Much has been said about the hypocrisies of these comics and of Saudi Arabia’s continuing push to smudge away its record of murdering journalists and activists by staging expensive cultural events and inviting Hollywood icons to attend. The Red Sea Film Festival now has the kudos of multiple prestigious industry icons. We saw this whole mess unfold in the sports world with the Qatar World Cup and the likes of David Beckham shilling for the event. It takes shockingly little motivation for a rich person to decide to profit from dictatorships, oligarchs, and outright propaganda. But it used to be somewhat more discreet.
There’s a long and seedy history of major celebrities taking big cash payouts to perform at the birthday parties and thinly veiled propaganda events of dictatorial regimes. It’s almost a rite of passage for a megastar to fly out to Dubai or Turkmenistan, shake a few hands, sing a few hits, and earn a million dollars for their troubles. In 2009, Sting was reportedly paid over £1 million to play a show organised by Gulnara Karimova, the daughter of Islam Karimov, the dictator who controlled Uzbekistan for 27 years. Jennifer Lopez sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Turkmenistan’s leader, Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedow, during a concert hosted by a Chinese oil firm in 2013.
In 2011, Hilary Swank attended a birthday party for Chechen president Ramzan Kadyrov. She claimed she’d done her research before taking the gig, but later reneged and apologized when she found out about her new BFF being a totalitarian bully who led anti-LBGTQ purges in the region and approved the honour killings of several women. Beyoncé reportedly received $2 million to perform a private New Year’s Eve concert for the son of Muammar Gaddafi. Naomi Campbell notoriously received blood diamonds from Liberian President Charles Taylor, who was jailed for 50 years for crimes against humanity. Erykah Badu sang for the absolute monarch of Swaziland, Mswati III, who responded to an HIV crisis in his country by invoking a chastity rite.
Perhaps the most famous artist-organised boycott of this kind was the protest against Apartheid-era South Africa and the many international singers who took big bucks to sing at resorts like Sun City. By the time Steven Van Zandt compiled almost 50 recording artists to declare they ain’t gonna play Sun City, the hotel had already hosted Ray Charles, Dolly Parton, Elton John, and Cher, among others. Brian May of Queen declared that they would “play to anybody who wants to come and listen” and were “a very non-political group.” That’s certainly one way to describe performing at a venue where access was dictated by race. But those who did boycott made a major impact. It’s one of the reasons there’s so much pushback to the entire concept of boycotts. Just look at the fake fury over the actors who have declared they won’t work with Israeli companies in the midst of a genocide.
Some celebrities were embarrassed into apologizing and returning the money. Many pleaded ignorance, claiming they just didn’t know enough about the region they were flown out to for a perfectly normal party. Granted, most people outside of Turkmenistan know nothing of the country, and many of us are only aware of its abuses because of a John Oliver skit. But the point of being rich and famous is that you have the resources to do better than us normies. Then again, money is blinding. The more you have of it, the more you’ll do to keep it.
Others spin their greed as a humanitarian move or a sign that they put art above all else. Sting was unrepentant about his choice to perform in Uzbekistan, claiming in a statement that he performed there ‘in spite of’ the president’s record because ‘I have come to believe that cultural boycotts are not only pointless gestures, they are counter-productive, where proscribed states are further robbed of the open commerce of ideas and art and as a result become even more closed, paranoid and insular.’ The idea of prevailing as a creative voice for the trodden-on masses doesn’t exactly work when you’re singing at a private concert, dude. Erykah Badu tried to spin her visit to Swaziland as an opportunity ‘for groups claiming they are for the rights of humans to shine a spotlight on this situation using me as a tool.’ As though human rights organizations weren’t doing that for decades before she sang there.
It can’t just be about the money, though, surely? There must be a more sophisticated explanation for such callous greed? Nah. I think it’s just the cash. When they drive a dump truck of the stuff to your door and ask you not to Google the name of that one murdered journalist, why wouldn’t you say yes? Everyone else has done it. Selling out isn’t shameful anymore. You can put your face on crypto scams, appear in ads for gambling apps, and make sheepish Instagram videos of yourself pretending to love a shoddily made mobile game, and nobody will say a thing. We’re in the midst of ‘get your bag’ culture, after all. Why not go to Dubai and do as the royal family demands?
A lot of the anti-woke culture war rhetoric of the Trump era is that of smarmy servitude to the status quo. The usual suspects whine about how you can’t say anything these days and then rush to align themselves with the most putrid specimens who openly say slurs or have multiple credible abuse accusations to their name. It becomes a badge of honour to be ‘open-minded’ enough to side with talentless bullies because the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Just see how many ‘cancelled’ celebrities get invited onto the right-wing podcast circuit or become faux-preachers of dog-whistle-laden hate for obnoxiously high-paying audiences. Too many people responded to the Sean Combs trial by turning it into a meme. I’m sure we’ll see some of these comics return from Saudi Arabia with stories of how lovely everyone was and how the press has it all wrong. I’m also sure many others will brag about the money they made, uncaring of its source.
Nowadays, performing for dictators is less common than taking millions to sing at the weddings of the obscenely rich and their kids. The politics may be marginally better, but the (lack of) principle is the same. There’s a reason that so many people are desperate to define all art as being divorced from politics, or at least the politics they don’t like. Supporting trans people is woke nonsense, but taking blood money in Saudi Arabia is just good business. The message is clear, as are their supporters. Ranting about how liberals think your sexist jokes suck is just another reminder that all of these overpaid creeps want to be the boot, not a voice of reason or bravery. But it’s not just them, obviously. Put enough zeroes at the end of the cheque and the biggest faux-progressive #girlbosses and activists-for-show will reveal their true colours. Selling out is in. Just don’t mention the bonesaws.
