Netflix Remove Comedy Special After Threats From Saudi Arabia

Another year, another big tech censorship scandal. Over the weekend, Netflix decided to block an episode of ‘Patriot Act With Hasan Minhaj’ from their streaming service in Saudi Arabia after the foreign government took issue with the comedian’s heavy criticisms of Prince Mohammed bin Salman and his totalitarian rule, which they argued somehow violated “cybercrime law”.

“We strongly support artistic freedom and removed this episode only in Saudi Arabia after we had received a valid legal request — and to comply with local law,” Netflix said in an official statement to NPR, leaving the accusation uncontested without showing any hint of ironic self-awareness. Netflix just took the crown’s legal words as gospel. Our publication won’t be making the same mistakes. So exactly what is this cybercrime violation in question? Or are government officials making up their own empty threats? Interestingly, it’s a bit of both.

The Saudi Arabian government, notorious for their tyrannical prohibition from their strict Islamic dress codes to public beheadings for sorcery and witchcraft, cited Article 6 of their Anti-Cyber Crime Law which specifically restricts the “production, preparation, transmission, or storage of material impinging on public order, religious values, public morals, and privacy, through the information network or computers” which is punishable by up to five years in prison and a fine, according to translated documents from the human rights group Amnesty International. How the episode violated these broad definitions, however, is unclear. The content in question was related to how Prince Salman (MBS) was possibly involved with the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi due to the government continuously changing stories in the media.

“The Saudis were struggling to explain his disappearance: they said he left the consulate safely, then they used a body double to make it seem like he was alive,” Minhaj, a former correspondent for Comedy Central’s ‘The Daily Show’, joked to his audience. The Saudi government, however, clearly isn’t laughing. “At one point they were saying he died in a fist fight, Jackie Chan-style. They went through so many explanations. The only one they didn’t say was that Khashoggi died in a free solo rock-climbing accident. This is the most unbelievable cover story since Blake Shelton won the sexiest man alive.”

This segment is very problematic for Prince Salman’s facade image of being a progressive reformer for the Arab people, which admittedly did result in the bare minimum of changes such as allowing women to drive legally and reportedly attending soccer matches, according to Vox. Such a reputation is no accident and is key to holding his convenient influence across the west, particularly for the country’s war on Yemen seizing profitable land and resources enabled by weapon sales from allied governments. “His domestic reforms and rhetoric have been carefully crafted to resonate here,” argued Marc Lynch, a scholar of Middle Eastern politics, who spoke with the publication in April during the prince’s visit to the United States.

Minhaj, playing the straight-shooting progressive comedian of the Muslim world, is the exact problematic archetype of the prince’s power-craving nightmares. “It blows my mind that it took the killing of a Washington Post journalist for everyone to understand [MBS is] not a reformer. Meanwhile, every Muslim person you know was like ‘yeah, no shit… he’s the crown prince of Saudi Arabia.’ Strong-arming, coercion, detaining people: these are MBS’s go-to moves, and he’s been getting away with all of it.”

“Now would be a good time to reassess our relationship with Saudi Arabia,” he continued, “and I mean that as a Muslim and as an American. As Muslims, we have to pray towards Mecca, we make pilgrimage to Mecca, we access God through Saudi Arabia… a country that I feel does not represent our values. Saudi Arabia is only 2% of the entire Muslim population, but when Saudi does something wrong, Muslims around the world have to live with the consequences. America hates terrorists. Saudi Arabia gave them [the 9/11 hijackers] passports. Saudi Arabia is basically the boy-band manager of 9/11. They didn’t write the songs… but they helped get the group together. Now would be a good time to reassess our relationship with Saudi Arabia.”

Minhaj is perfectly right here, which suggests his offence is definitely more along the lines of blasphemy against the political “public order” of the MBS regime than a genuinely organised hack of the country’s culture conducted across Netflix dot com. “This isn’t about a religion,” argues political journalist and stage comedian Dean Obeidallah writing for The Daily Beast, “this is about power. It’s about silencing people who not just criticize these strongman leaders but cause people to laugh at them. That scares those who want to be feared.”

For Netflix, a broadcast company on American soil, to capitulate to such foreign power against their values of artistic freedom without so much as a judicial or moral fight shows the length of totalitarian control over not only their own citizens but of overseas executives served legal sanctions over a roasting. This sadly isn’t new of the Middle East, though illustrates their repressive nature considered far too little in the discourse.

“In fact,” Obeidallah writes, “I have performed stand-up comedy across the Middle East in the past, including four shows in Saudi Arabia. Every show in the region has the same rules: No mocking the leader of the country you are in. Although things were somewhat different when I was in Lebanon, where the promoter told me: ‘Say whatever you want, but if you make fun of Hezbollah, you are on your own’.” This same rule applies to their entertainment media, clearly, even when the stage is a world away.

In an interview with The Atlantic about his show, Minhaj expressed at length the potential repercussions his family considered before releasing his criticisms of the Saudi government, going as far to say he continually fears about his own personal safety to this day. “There was a lot of discussion in my family about not doing it,” he said. “I’ve just come to personal and spiritual terms with what the repercussions are. It was a necessary condition to me completing my faith … But it’s held in a country that does not represent my values in any way whatsoever.”

“Every artist whose work appears on Netflix should be outraged that the company has agreed to censor a comedy show because the thin-skinned royals in Saudi complained about it,” argued a spokesperson for Human Rights Watch in a recent statement. “Netflix’s claim to support artistic freedom means nothing if it bows to demands of government officials who believe in no freedom for their citizens — not artistic, not political, not comedic.”

Thanks for reading! This article was originally published for, a bipartisan media platform for political and social commentary, truly diverse viewpoints and facts that don’t kowtow to political correctness.

Bailey Steen is a journalist, graphic designer and film critic residing in the heart of Australia. You can also find his work right here on Medium and publications such as Janks Reviews.

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Stay honest and radical. Cheers, darlings. 💋

troubled writer, depressed slug, bisexual simp, neoliberal socialist, trotskyist-bidenist, “corn-pop was a good dude, actually,” bio in pronouns: (any/all)

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