Last week I attended the Doha Debates, where the programme focused on whether or not “censorship makes a mockery of the arts”. The debate was between independent curator Nat Muller and Syrian composer Malek Jandali, who agreed with the statement, and Hay Festival director Peter Florence and Iraqi art historian Nada Shabout, who spoke out against the motion.
As it turned out, Shabout was the lone ranger in pleading for cultural sensitivity and avoiding offence. Florence spoke out against the motion because he felt it was “stupid”. Florence said that artists inevitably find ways to overcome censorship and the role of an artist to test the boundaries set against them. Muller and Jandali both highlighted the importance in creating unfettered spaces for artists, but Muller touched on some of the challenges of running exhibitions within the Middle East.
Inevitably, the Danish cartoons of the prophet Muhammad and the topic of religious sensitivity came up in the questions from the audience. Shabout was insistent on respecting the specific culture of a region, and stressed the importance of respecting local culture and norms. Since we were in Qatar, it was unsurprising, and throughout my time there I had many conversations about censorship in the country, especially after spending time in two of Doha’s galleries.Examples of silly censorship in films, to struggles for foreign artists displaying work in galleries in the Gulf all touched on the question of censorship in conservative societies.
Often, I find these conversations to be frustrating, because it inevitably comes down to the rights of the artist vs the rights of the audience. I don’t think we should be framing it in this way. In the end, the solution is polarising — it is either to censor the artist, or to tell the offended to merely turn away from offensive works. What is usually missing is a conversation about the right to be offended, which should go hand-in-hand with artistic freedom. Art is not always beautiful, it often times brings to the surface the ugly components of our societies that we’d rather ignore. We can’t ban hatred or ignorance, and artistic expression can spark a conversation about some of the things that we don’t necessarily feel comfortable discussing. What we really should be discussing is not whether or not art should be censored, but how we create room for discussion and dissent.
Watch the full debate below. I make an appearance around the 26 minute mark:
Sara Yasin works for Index on Censorship. She tweets at @missyasin
Will the arrival of elected police commissioners politicise how officers respond to popular concerns about unpopular issues? If artistic expression sparks controversy how will newly accountable police chiefs manage the already fraught competing demands of keeping the electorate sweet, and meeting the requirements of human rights legislation?.
With the arts — some like them, some don’t. Some walk away from things they don’t like, others exercise their right to protest. The threat to public order, potential or actual, is a core policing issue.
Thus Birmingham police prevented the screening of Penny Woolcock’s film One Day about local gangs; Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s play Behzti, dealing with tensions within the Sikh community, was cancelled after protests turned violent and police could not guarantee the safety of theatre staff; police upheld concerns by some members of the Somali community that music is un-Islamic and banned a musical performance in Bristol.
These and many other similar cases in recent years illustrate the police’s an unprecedented role as arbiters of freedom of expression in the arts. A proposed “heavyweight” independent review of policing inEnglandandWalesled by former Metropolitan Police chief Lord Stevens should address this.
Elected commissioners must manage the tension between the popular expectations that put them in post and the unpopular causes that police are sometimes expected, even required, to defend.
Yet currently there’s no clear practice. When the Belgrade Theatre Coventry premiered Bhatti’s follow-up play Behud – Beyond Belief, an imaginative response to the cancellation of Behzti, the theatre was initially asked to pay £10,000 in policing costs, the local force applying rules designed for commercial sports events, to public art.
This is problematic political, legal and cultural territory. Beyond fulfilling their core duties — to maintain law and order, to prevent and detect crime — the Human Rights Act imposes on the police a qualified obligation not to interfere with the exercise of the right to freedom of expression and protest — and a positive obligation to take appropriate steps to protect those rights.
Case law advises: “In determining whether or not a positive obligation exists, regard must be had to the fair balance that has to be struck between the general interest of the community and the interests of the individual, the search for which balance is inherent throughout the Convention.”
When “taking those appropriate steps” means the police supporting an unpopular, minority interest — enabling a play to go ahead rather than sending officers out detecting crime, protecting property — it is a tough call as things stand.
With elected commissioners in place, especially when resources are limited, supporting an individual artist’s right to freedom of expression could look like a real vote loser.
After the riots in August David Cameron made the case for elected police commissioners as part of the solution “to mend[ing] our broken society…they will provide that direct accountability so you can finally get what you want when it comes to policing.”
Following up later that week in the Sunday Express newspaper, under the headline “Rights in my Sights”, Cameron talked of “scoring a clear line between right and wrong through every neighbourhood and backing it up with the full force of the law”.
By challenging the rights agenda in the name of a moral crusade, Cameron set alarm bells ringing for free expression. The right to freedom of expression is about the rights of the minority, and artists are always the minority.
Cameron’s claim that “our reforms mean that the police are going to answer directly to the people” runs the risk of setting up misleading expectations and empowering those who can put the power of numbers behind their sense of cultural offence.
It is important that any “contract” between an elected commissioner and his or her electorate includes the understanding that the police will do things that the majority may not like, in the interests of democracy and in the interests of a vibrant and provocative culture.
This means more freedom of expression, not less, reinforced by better information about our rights and responsibilities. We need artists to be free to discuss even the most uncomfortable truths and now more than ever to speak truth to power, to call authority to account.
The controversial play Saved by Edward Bond is set to be performed in London later this month. The play, which hasn’t been staged in the capital in 25 years, will feature at the Lyric Hammersmith throughout October.
Initially staged in 1965 at the Royal Court Theatre, the piece — which has rarely been performed — explores the lives of a working-class family and a group of young thugs in south London. There was uproar when it was refused a license by the Lord Chamberlain in the 60s. Particularly opposed to the scene in which the thugs stoned a baby to death, the Lord Chamberlain decreed it inappropriate, and critics were disgusted.
The theatre went underground, staging the production in a private club performance, attempting to sneak through a legal loophole, but it was unsuccessful and the Royal Court was prosecuted. During the court case, Laurence Olivier led the theatre community to defend theatrical freedom, supporting the theory that theatre must address current problems. The Royal Court lost the case, but the court case and the scandal in which the theatre and the play found themselves is widely regarded as the fundamental turning point for the abolition of stage censorship, which occurred in 1968.
Director Sean Holmes’ take on the play is described by the Lyric Hammersmith as “a disturbing and visionary account of life in the modern city”.
A Georgia mayor has banned a local production of Rocky Horror Picture Show. A theatre company in Carrollton, Georgia was set to perform the show until a rehearsal video posted on Facebook revealed dance moves deemed risque. Shocked by the video, Mayor Wayne Garner decided to shut down the show, even though organisers planned to restrict the audience to adults.
Perhaps Mayor Garner would be happier with the censored Glee take on the film:
