Hollywood: the Pentagon’s secret weapon

As the Oscars season came to a close this weekend, all eyes were once again on Hollywood. The prestigious awards ceremony, which took place on Sunday in Los Angeles, played host to some of the biggest names in cinema, all of whom were hoping to secure one of the infamous golden statuettes afforded to the year’s biggest on-screen successes. 

This year, many awards were given to Index-worthy films and documentaries, as they bravely called out human rights and free speech abuses. 

No Other Land, an Israeli-Palestinian collaboration investigating how Palestinian activists are protecting their communities from destruction by the Israeli military in the occupied West Bank, won best documentary. Another short feature from Iran, In the Shadow of the Cypress, won best animated short film, with the directors using their acceptance speech to speak out for their “fellow Iranians who are suffering”. 

Meanwhile, Adrien Brody won best actor for playing the lead role in The Brutalist, a postwar film documenting the life of the fictional László Tóth, a Hungarian-Jewish Holocaust survivor and esteemed architect. The Brazilian film I’m Still Here also won best international film, and is based on the true story of the lawyer and activist Eunice Paiva, whose husband was “disappeared” and murdered in the 1970s.

Clearly, there was much to celebrate from this year’s awards. However, beneath the glitz and glamour lies the much murkier issue of the close relationship between Hollywood and the US government.  

When imagining a film produced in collaboration with the US Department of Defence (DoD), most would presumably envision a recruitment video for the armed forces, or another form of military propaganda. In reality, it’s likely that many people have already seen a film that has been vetted and approved by the DoD without even realising.

Have you watched Top Gun, Apollo 13 or Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? What about Transformers, Armageddon or I Am Legend? If so, you’ve seen a film from the US military-entertainment complex. From James Bond classics like Goldfinger to modern Marvel creations like Iron Man, the DoD have had a hand in countless Hollywood productions over the years. 

This is no conspiracy theory. In fact, the DoD’s own website boasts of its “long-standing relationship” with Hollywood filmmakers, in which they state that their two-fold goal is “to accurately depict military stories and make sure sensitive information isn’t disclosed”.

Despite this transparency, the fact that a department of the federal government influences the stories that are told by the oldest and biggest film industry in the world raises valid questions concerning censorship and free speech in cinema.

Roger Stahl, a professor, writer and film director who has spearheaded research on the US military-entertainment complex for the last 20 years, spoke to Index last year, around the time that Index on Censorship featured a special print edition on censorship in cinema.

He said that, although it is less direct, the DoD has historically engaged in censorship by vetting Hollywood productions. 

“When filmmakers come to the DoD, they routinely express how great they think the film is going to be for military PR [public relations]. That is, they are trying hard to sell the script to the DoD right off the bat,” he said. “Then later there are the actual DoD requests for script changes, which almost never encounter resistance.”  

“None of this process really qualifies as censorship in the traditional sense of a government entity enforcing its will under the threat of legal consequences,” he added. “The outcome is much the same, though.”

Stahl has explained in previous research how the process of Hollywood filmmakers collaborating with the Pentagon works: if a production company approaches the DoD to ask for their help with or endorsement for a movie, the Entertainment Liaison Office will request to see the script. If the script is at odds with military interests, it will be denied. However, if they decide the script is compatible enough to work with, they sometimes request changes to be made.

The logical outcome of this is that a lot of Hollywood films tend to show the military in a good light as filmmakers look to garner favour with them. The assistance of the armed forces in a film can be crucial in terms of obtaining much-needed personnel and equipment and the Pentagon would be less willing to offer help to those seeking to portray them negatively.

This is described by Debra Ramsay, a lecturer in Film Studies at Exeter University, as being “a question of negotiated influence rather than outright censorship or control”.

The DoD has stated: “While Hollywood is paid to tell a compelling story that will make money, the DoD is looking to tell an accurate story.” This is a rather generous sentiment which suggests that the changes they request are to do with correcting the use of military language and equipment to ensure it is accurately portrayed. However, Ramsay calls the focus on the term accuracy a “minefield”. 

“Accuracy is also often about which narratives institutions like the DoD choose to invest in and which they don’t,” she told Index last year. “The DoD of course are concerned with questions of accuracy, and of course they have a vested interest in showing the armed forces favourably.”

Stahl contends that this interference from the US military who will of course have their own agenda in filmmaking amounts to military propaganda “with qualifications”.

“Propaganda is a term with a lot of baggage it has associations with government-produced material with an overt political message designed to influence civilian populations. Products that arise from the Pentagon-Hollywood collaboration do not fit perfectly into this definition,” he explained.

“In my view, though, I have no problem calling this one of the biggest peacetime propaganda operations in our nation’s history,” he added.

However, Ramsay points out that the producers are not forced to change the script and that it is “up to the filmmakers” to decide how far they will allow the relationship with the DoD to go. She gives the example of the film producer Darryl Zanuck, who was cooperating with the US military when producing his 1962 film The Longest Day, and refused the request to cut a scene where two members of the US army shoot two German soldiers who have surrendered. 

“The military could not control whether or not that scene made the final cut,” she said. 

This demonstrates the grey areas that surround this issue, as the Pentagon is not actually stopping anti-military films from being made, but is rather indirectly incentivising pro-military films. However, this undoubtedly can lead to self-censorship, which is still a genuine issue particularly when concerning the world’s biggest film industry.

Stahl has attempted to raise awareness of the extent of the relationship between the DoD and Hollywood, as he and his small team of researchers have utilised Freedom of Information requests to find that the Pentagon and the CIA have exercised direct editorial control over more than 2,500 films and television shows. Stahl says that although the fact that the Pentagon works with Hollywood and has an Entertainment Media Office is public knowledge, we don’t know the extent of this collaboration, which is a concern.

“The Entertainment Office does [media] interviews, they’ll admit to working with films, and even to making the military look good,” he told Index. “But they have been extremely guarded about the details.

“You could read a dozen press accounts, and no one could tell you how many productions were subject to official script oversight.”

It is difficult to measure the extent to which the military-entertainment complex influences how the US armed forces are actually perceived. Stahl points to audience effect studies being “few and far between”, while Ramsay suggests that it is a “difficult thing to quantify”.

“As an academic, I’d be wary of suggesting that these films influence people or change their perception I’d want to see evidence of that but they certainly appear to nudge people in a particular direction,” said Ramsay. “There is no clear-cut answer here, but I think the relationship definitely needs scrutiny and publicity.”

However, any amount of censorship is too much. The objectives and agenda of the DoD cannot be placed above a filmmaker’s right to freedom of expression. At last weekend’s Oscars ceremony, filmmakers were rewarded for the stories they have shown us on the screen, many of which gave a space to vital yet unheard voices; we mustn’t forget those stories that aren’t allowed to be told. 

To read more like this, check out the cinema-themed issue of our quarterly magazine from July 2024. For further issues, you can subscribe to the magazine here.

Iran’s silenced musicians

The beauty and power of Iran’s music is being strangled, with many musicians jailed and tortured purely for raising their voices against the regime’s viciousness and in harmony with those protesting against it.

The case of rapper and Index Freedom of Expression award-winner Toomaj Salehi has been the highest profile case of Iran cracking down on freedom of expression among the country’s musicians but he is not alone. Index was at the heart of the campaign to get Salehi’s sentence commuted and he was eventually released but the country’s other musicians still face persecution.

Musicians like Salehi are regularly thrown in jail for highlighting the brutality and hypocrisy of Iran’s government. Even after release from prison, if they are lucky, these musicians still face surveillance and control.

Singer Mehdi Yarrahi, whose song Roosarito (Your Headscarf) gained widespread attention and became an anthem of resistance, was jailed in early 2024 for challenging “the morals and customs of Islamic society”. After his release on medical grounds, he was forced to wear an ankle tag to track his movements. A source told Index that this has only recently been removed. This week, it was reported that Yarrahi had been sentenced to the inhumane torture of 74 lashes to end the criminal case against him.

In May last year, rappers Vafa Ahmadpour and Danial Moghaddam were sentenced to prison for “propaganda against the regime”. Our source tells us they are serving their sentences under house arrest and must wear ankle tags to restrict movement away from their homes.

These sentences and treatment, for simply writing songs of protest, are unjust.

Another recent case involves musician and activist Khosrow Azarbeig who was arrested in Tehran on 17 February for “insulting” former Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad following a protest performance in Tehran’s metro.

The lawyer Amir Raesian shared the news on X: “Mr. Khosrow Azarbeig, a daf player, was arrested on Monday evening on a street in Tehran. His family has been informed that his charge is ‘insulting Bashar al-Assad’.”

It follows a string of other actions against musicians and singers in the country.

Last July, Zara Esmaeili was arrested by Iranian security forces at her home in Karaj. Her arrest came after online footage emerged of her on the streets of Tehran singing the Amy Winehouse hit Back To Black without wearing a hijab.

According to a friend, just one day before her arrest, she tried to prevent the security police from detaining one of her friends in Tehran. This escalated into a confrontation with security forces, ultimately resulting in her violent arrest.

The exiled Iranian filmmaker Vahid Zarezadeh, now in Germany, told Index: “Zara Esmaeili was not widely known in the media, which meant that her voice remained largely unheard. She has been in detention for several months now, yet her family has received no information about her whereabouts or the reason for her arrest – a scenario all too familiar for many detainees in Iran.”

“Since then, there has been no official information about the charges against her, her legal status, or even where she is being held. Meanwhile, her Instagram account was suspended by order of the Iranian judiciary – a common tactic used to silence activists and dissidents.”

He added: “Our best assumption is that she is being held in solitary confinement in Ward 209 of Evin Prison, as no one inside the prison has seen or heard from her. Her situation remains shrouded in uncertainty, and, like many others, the complete silence surrounding her case could indicate that she is under severe pressure in detention.”

In December, the singer Parastoo Ahmadi was arrested along with two band members for performing a livestream concert in the symbolic venue of an old caravanserai (an inn which provided lodging for travellers) without wearing a hijab, violating Iran’s strict rules on dress for women.

Posting the concert on her channel, she wrote: “I am Parastoo, a girl who wants to sing for the people I love. This is a right I could not ignore; singing for the land I love passionately. Here, in this part of our beloved Iran, where history and our myths intertwine, hear my voice in this imaginary concert and imagine this beautiful homeland… I am grateful to all those who have supported me in these difficult and special circumstances.”

The other members arrested were Iranian composer Ehsan Beyraghdar and guitarist Soheil Faghih Nasiri.

The Iranian authorities issued a statement saying that the concert took place “without legal authorisation and adherence to Sharia principles” and that appropriate action would be taken against the singer and production team. Since it was posted, the video has attracted 2.5 million views and was widely shared on Iranian social media, despite YouTube being banned in the country.

Ahmadi and the others have since been released on bail pending a trial.

Meanwhile, the controversial Iranian rapper Amir Hossein Maghsoudloo (better known as Amir Tataloo) is facing up to 15 years in prison.

The singer, known for being completely covered in tattoos, fled to Istanbul, Turkey in 2018 following repeated arrests by the Iranian authorities. In December 2023, he was deported by Turkish authorities, seemingly for visa violations although some reports say that his return to Iran was of his own volition. On crossing into Iran at the Bazargan border crossing, he was arrested.

While he was in Turkey, controversy swirled around Tataloo including allegations of attempts to groom young girls.

In 2020, Tataloo’s Instagram profile was suspended after he was accused of inviting young girls to join his “harem”. He later allegedly posted an audio file on Telegram justifying his position in which he said: “What I discussed was legitimate by the laws of our country and our religion. It is in our religion that you can have… four wives and 40 concubines. Also, marriage above the age of nine is allowed in Islam. But I said 15 to 16 years of age. Then I said with the consent of the parents, so that there would be no controversy.”

Since his return to Iran, he has been sentenced to 10 years in prison for “promoting corruption and prostitution”, a sentence upheld by the Court of Appeal. He faces a further five years for “insulting religious sanctities” but this is currently under review by the Supreme Court.

Some reports have claimed that Tataloo has been sentenced to death for blasphemy against the Prophet (“Sabb al-Nabi”). However, the Iranian judiciary’s media centre has denied this, stating that his final sentence has not yet been issued.

“Many individuals and social groups hesitate to support him due to his unpredictable character,” said Zarezadeh. “His supporters and critics alike constantly anticipate his next move – one day he performs a concert on the deck of an Iranian military vessel, another day he poses alongside President Ebrahim Raisi, and then at another moment, he positions himself as an opposition figure. All of these contradictions have made his case even more ambiguous.”

Despite the controversy surrounding Tataloo and his alleged crimes, the fact is that Iran has a problem with the freedom of expression of its musicians. Music was never intended to be silenced but heard. This systemic persecution has to stop.

The existential threat to international aid and consular assistance

It would have been difficult to miss the recent flurry of news regarding cuts to international aid organisations, and the repercussions these will have in areas such as climate change mitigation, tackling gender-based violence, and supporting independent journalism in countries with severe free speech violations.

Donald Trump’s cuts to USAID (the US Agency for International Development) will decimate such assistance, with more than 90% of the agency’s foreign aid contracts due to be eliminated. As the world’s largest supporter of independent foreign media until now, Trump’s decision is perilous at a time when democracy and impartial reporting are being eroded globally.

This week, Prime Minister Keir Starmer also announced that the UK’s international aid budget would be slashed to better fund defence, a move that mirrors the USA’s insular approach and appears to be driven by the increasing threat of estrangement from the country. While charities and backbenchers have expressed serious concerns, Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner has said that although the decision to cut aid is “devastating”, the Cabinet is “united that the number one responsibility of any government is to keep its citizens safe”. Not entirely united, it would seem – this morning, the International Development Minister Anneliese Dodds resigned over it.

But declarations of citizen safety are questionable, given the government does not currently appear to be keeping its citizens very safe abroad. This week, 43-year-old British-Egyptian political prisoner and pro-democracy activist Alaa Abd el-Fattah was in the news again, as his UK-based mother Laila Soueif has been hospitalised by a hunger strike she began nearly five months ago. Doctors have warned that her life is at risk, but she is refusing glucose treatment until Starmer calls Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi to secure her son’s release.

The Labour government’s approach to the situation has so far been tepid. While Foreign Secretary David Lammy visited Egypt in January to discuss trade deals, economic growth and illegal migration, he was ultimately not able to reach a resolution on Abd el-Fattah’s case. Starmer has publicly committed to do all he can to secure his release, and has written to the Egyptian president twice but reportedly has been unable to have a phone call with him about it. Abd el-Fattah’s sister, Sanaa Seif, said in a statement this week: “Keir Starmer has to make this call today. Every moment that he waits means that my mother is more likely to die.”

The thread tying both international aid cuts and lack of consular assistance together is one of isolationism. According to the Independent Commission for Aid Impact, the UK’s aid projects countering threats to democracy, journalism and human rights totalled £1.37bn between 2015 and 2021, but since then budget cuts and an increased fear of damaging relations with other governments have impeded this work. Recent developments do not spell good news for those subjected to human rights violations globally, and as Abd el-Fattah’s case indicates, British citizens are not exempt from this risk. We now need to see strong actions from the UK government that it is willing to speak out against such violations and do its utmost to support democratic principles.

Jimmy Lai, the troublemaker

Jimmy Lai has led many lives. An impoverished factory worker, a garment billionaire, owner of one of Hong Kong’s most influential papers, a born-again Catholic. He’s a man of mythical status; someone who doesn’t know their official birthday, who left Mao’s China spurred on by the taste of chocolate, who once lived in a house with a pet bear, monkey and flying fox. A son, a brother, a husband, a father, a boss, a friend. He is all of the above. But to many today he’s known mostly as a political prisoner, and not just any prisoner – arguably the prisoner the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) fears the most. 

“The more I was forced to think about Jimmy in a larger historical context, the more convinced I am that there is nobody in the 75 years of CCP rule like Jimmy,” said Mark Clifford, the author of The Troublemaker, a new biography on Lai.  

“He’s got three things that make them afraid of him,” Clifford continued. “They are: money, which means he can buy the best lawyers; a megaphone in the form of media; and principles. That may be the hardest of them all to deal with – because they don’t [have principles] right?”

Lai has been in custody since December 2020. In the years leading up to his arrest, he became a constant thorn in China’s side. In stark contrast to other tycoons who rose to the top in Hong Kong, he was one of the fiercest critics of the CCP and a leading figure campaigning for democracy in the former British territory, championing freedoms through his publications, his writings and his on-the-ground activism. This earned him the status of hero to many in Hong Kong, but the CCP branded him a “traitor” who threatened Chinese national security. 

I’m chatting with Clifford a week after the launch of his book in London, and a few weeks after it was released in the USA, which is where he has flown in from. A journalist by training, Clifford lived in Hong Kong for decades from the late 1980s, and now leads the Committee for Freedom in Hong Kong Foundation, which campaigns for political prisoners specifically and for the improvement of rights in Hong Kong more generally. 

Clifford is the obvious biographer of Lai, having known him since the early 1990s and having also served on the board of Next Digital, Lai’s media company. And it’s clear from Clifford’s book that he’s a big fan of Lai’s. That’s not to say the book is a hagiography. Clifford does recall Lai’s mistakes. He explained that he wanted to show Lai how he was and is, “warts and all”, and this makes the book a valuable addition – it’s a portrait of the man himself, rather than the symbol he has become.  

Still, there is no denying, as Clifford told me, that it’s a “portrait of a genuinely heroic person”. 

“The Chinese have been battling with him for 30 years. Every other business person has cracked, right? Everybody surrenders,” said Clifford, circling back to Lai’s defining qualities of strength and principle. 

Of Clifford’s many memories (which include when Lai cooked for Clifford – an unusually down-to-earth gesture for a man of such wealth – and many trips on Lai’s boat), one of the most vivid is a dinner at Clifford’s own house straight after an infamous column of Lai’s from 1994. In it, he described then Chinese premier Li Peng as a gui dan – turtle egg. Beijing did not take the slight lightly – they closed down Lai’s Beijing store. At dinner, Lai spent the entire evening talking about it, how corrupt the CCP were and how they had to go.

“He was quite defiant. He just felt so passionately,” said Clifford.  

It’s easy to point to several moments in Lai’s life and declare them the turning point. The protest movement and crackdown in Tiananmen Square in 1989 is one, when Lai’s garment factory supplied t-shirts to the protesters. Clifford sees his column in 1994 as another. Lai’s response was to write a follow-up piece in which he apologised for the bad language used in the first while highlighting that he still meant every word. 

In The Troublemaker Clifford paints a picture of Lai as an outsider – an immigrant who wasn’t born into money and didn’t always easily fit in with the company he kept – and this was perhaps part of his success. 

“It [his background] excluded him, but it also gave him a power, because it meant he could play by his own rules.”

He was always a natural entrepreneur, knowing what and how to sell and as he became more political his ambition became more focused: 

“He had a product – democracy – which he wanted people to buy,” said Clifford, talking of Lai’s pro-democracy newspaper Apple Daily, which blended high-brow and low-brow content to help the message travel further. 

As defiant as Lai might be, he is not unflappable. Clifford remembers a time he saw him break down in tears. Lai was giving a speech ahead of the Hong Kong handover in 1997 and it was then, to Clifford’s own knowledge, that Lai first spoke publicly about his concerns that he could be arrested.  

“On the one hand, you’re thinking ‘come on, this can’t really happen’, because it seems so unreal. On the other hand, Jimmy Lai probably has a better sense of what could happen. So he was right. He did get an extra 20-something years of freedom, but, you know, he was right,” Clifford said on reflection. 

In 2020 Hong Kong authorities passed the National Security Law. Many of those who had been heavily involved in the protest movement left Hong Kong. Lai did not. He was arrested twice that year and has not seen a day of freedom since. 

His national security trial started at the end of 2023. He is now 77 and has diabetes. And yet despite the years in prison – the bulk of which he has spent in solitary confinement – and his poor health, when Clifford has watched him during his court appearances, he remains defiant.

“It seems like he’s giving as good as he’s getting. It’s really remarkable,” he noted. 

Lai’s Catholic faith is part of the reason. He believes that no suffering is meaningless and has found refuge in faith. From his cell, he writes letters and sketches illustrations, often drawing on religious symbolism. A few years ago, a series of these were published in our magazine. 

Clifford’s book is about Lai, which means it’s ultimately about Hong Kong, a city that Clifford tells me he loved as soon as he saw it. Arriving there in the late 1980s, Clifford was drawn to it as “a place of incredible freedom”. Even though today that freedom has gone, Clifford has not foregone all hope. He holds onto the belief that economic growth ultimately leads to more freedom. “Bread is not enough,” he said in no uncertain terms.

He used the conjunction “when” Lai gets out of prison rather than “if”, and told me how I’ll meet Lai one day and he’ll thank me and everyone who has helped get him out. As for this book, it’s one of Clifford’s many contributions to that effort. Of course the CCP will hate it but, like the book’s protagonist, Clifford has little time for what the CCP thinks. 

“If the price of Jimmy getting out is that they pulp the book, that would be fine,” he said. 

The Troublemaker: How Jimmy Lai Became a Billionaire, Hong Kong’s Greatest Dissident, and China’s Most Feared Critic was published in hardback in the USA in December 2024