Awards 2024 campaigning shortlist Diala Ayesh
DIALA AYESH Campaigning Award | Nominee | Freedom of Expression Awards Diala Ayesh is a Palestinian human rights defender and lawyer, who has advocated for the freedom and fair treatment of political prisoners. She has faced arrest, threats, and harassment from both...Film censorship risks emboldening those who threaten violence
For more than 20 years, Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of Anthony Burgess’s classic novel, A Clockwork Orange, was banned from cinemas in the UK.
Kubrick was known for his shocking and crass, but altogether original, forays into directing. His interpretation of Burgess’s novel was considered exceptionally scandalous for its depictions of sexual and physical violence. But it wasn’t public outrage that triggered its banning – the director himself pulled the film from circulation in 1973, over concerns about reports of copycat violence and threats to both his and his family’s safety. It wasn’t until 1999, after Kubrick’s death, that his family agreed to permit the release of the film again.
This censorship happened despite no legal requirements – the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) judged the film to be acceptable for adults over the age of 18, and at no point rescinded this. There were legitimate concerns about violence resulting from the film, which should not be underestimated – but the decision did also result in the censorship of one of the most seminal pieces of film and literature of the 20th century, which ironically is, in itself, about the concept of free will.
This example may feel like a relic of a simpler time – we could argue that the internet has desensitised us to violence, and individuals are far more likely to be radicalised by unfettered scrolling on their phone rather than a visit to the cinema. But films of artistic and newsworthy importance are still being censored globally, for fears of the real-world repercussions.
This week, the London Film Festival cancelled its screening of a new investigative documentary on the UK’s far right over safety concerns for festival staff and attendees – particularly in response to the violent riots that took place over the summer. Undercover: Exposing the Far Right is a brave feat of journalism produced by the anti-fascist advocacy group Hope Not Hate. While it is available to watch on Channel 4, it lost its initial impact of a premiere.
Kristy Matheson, the director of the festival, said the decision to cancel was “heartbreaking” but that she had been left with no other viable option. “I think the film is exceptional and easily one of the best documentaries I have seen this year,” she said. “However, festival workers have the right to feel safe and that their mental health and well being is respected in their workplace.”
Outside of the UK, screenings of another documentary film were recently cancelled in Taiwan following bomb threats. Some cinemas subsequently halted showings of State Organs – a controversial film that reports on alleged cases of forced organ harvesting in China – after they received threatening letters, which the Taiwan police say are likely the work of Chinese cybersecurity forces.
Threats of violence appear to have become a routine way to silence artistic, political or journalistic expression. Concerns around such real-world threats are extremely valid, with historical examples such as the awful murders of the MPs Jo Cox and David Amess proving this.
But the risk of giving into such threats can be to further embolden radical groups, make their voices more powerful, and stop them being held to account. “Safety must always be an utmost priority,” said Nick Lowles, CEO at Hope not Hate, of the Undercover screening cancellation. “But we can’t deny that it is disappointing to see the brave work of our staff being denied the widest possible audience. Now, more than ever, the true nature of the far right, in Britain and abroad, needs to be exposed.”
There is also the worry that issues of safety or national security may be used as an excuse to avoid contentious films that invite public scrutiny. This year, both Israeli and Palestinian film events have faced screening cancellations due to what theatres have cited as “safety concerns” or worries around appearing politically biased – but in reality, have been partly influenced by lobbying from groups on both sides. Film-makers are not responsible for their governments’ actions, said Odelia Haroush, the co-founder of the Israeli Seret Film Festival. Referring to cinemas and theatres, she said: “Their role should be to show films and culture, and not cancel culture. Especially now; don’t cancel Palestinian culture, Russian culture, Ukrainian culture, or Israeli culture.”
All of this is not to blame the already financially-stretched creative industries, which do not need the added stress of potentially violent attacks or protests. Extensive security measures and staff training are often additional expenses they cannot afford, and therefore, many event organisers decide that the risks of free expression far outweigh the benefits.
People’s safety must always be paramount, and there is no justification for favouring a film screening over individuals’ lives. But there is a concern that restricting people’s viewing access – whether that be to vital information or cultural enrichment – out of fear may only embolden those wishing to silence others’ through violence.
Journalists have a “right to life”
Hello, readers. This is Sarah Dawood here, editor of Index on Censorship. Every week, we bring the most pertinent global free speech stories to your inbox.
I must confess that today’s newsletter is very bleak, so I won’t be offended if you click away in search of a more optimistic end to your week. We’re reflecting on how journalists are increasingly being silenced globally, not only with the threat of legal retribution or imprisonment, but with death – often with little or no repercussions for those responsible.
This week marked the seven-year anniversary of the murder of Maltese investigative journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia, who was killed in a car bomb attack on 16 October 2017. She reported extensively on corruption in Malta, as well as on international scandals such as the Panama Papers (the historic data leak exposing how the rich exploit secret offshore tax regimes).
Two hitmen were convicted for her murder in 2022, but criminal proceedings are still ongoing against three more suspects, including the alleged mastermind of the assassination and the alleged bomb suppliers. This week, free speech organisations signed an open letter to Malta’s prime minister calling on him to promptly implement robust, internationally-sound legal reform to keep journalists safe in future. The letter pointed to a public inquiry into her death, which found it was both “predictable and preventable”, and highlighted “the failure of the authorities to take measures to protect her”.
The start of this month marked another grim milestone – six years since the death of prominent Saudi journalist Jamal Ahmad Khashoggi. He was a regular contributor to major news outlets like Middle East Eye and The Washington Post, as well as editor-in-chief at the former Bahrain-based Al-Arab News Channel. A vocal critic of his government, he was assassinated at a Saudi consulate in Istanbul, Turkey.
Such attacks on free speech continue. We were appalled, for instance, to learn of the death of the 27-year-old Ukrainian journalist Victoria Roshchyna last week, a reporter from the front-line of the Russia-Ukraine war who had written for Index about her experiences. The circumstances around her death are still unknown, but we know she died in Russian detention.
Increasingly, governments or powerful individuals act with impunity – whereby their human rights violations are exempt from punishment – willfully ignoring international law that states journalists are civilians and have a “right to life”. For many victims, the course of justice is either delayed, as in Caruana Galizia’s case, or the circumstances around their deaths are obfuscated and murky, as in Roshchyna’s. Question marks remain over who is ultimately responsible, or how it happened, creating a cycle of censorship whereby it’s not only the journalists and their reporting that are silenced, but their deaths.
This impunity has been shown in plain sight throughout the Israel-Hamas war. To date, 123 Palestinian journalists have been killed in Gaza by Israeli forces, with the Committee to Protect Journalists concluding that at least five were intentionally targeted. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) deny these claims, yet an Al Jazeera documentary recently revealed that journalists live in fear of their lives, and their families’. One of the most high-profile cases of a targeted attack was that of Hamza al-Dahdouh, the son of Al Jazeera Gaza bureau chief and veteran journalist Wael al-Dahdouh, whose wife and another two children were also previously killed in Israeli airstrikes. Two Israeli and three Lebanese journalists have also been killed in the conflict, with the International Criminal Court seeking arrest warrant applications for both Israeli and Hamas leaders for war crimes.
All these cases show a growing disregard for journalists’ lives, but also for the very essence of journalism itself. When not threatened with death or physical violence, media personnel are threatened with imprisonment, the closing of legitimate news offices, internet blackouts, and psychological and financial abuse. SLAPPs – strategic lawsuits against public participation – for instance, are being increasingly used globally by powerful and wealthy people as an abusive legal tool to threaten journalists into silence with eye-watering fines. How can “the fourth estate” truly hold power to account, when those in power can so easily dismantle and destroy their means of doing so?
At a time of devastating global conflict, the ability for journalists to report on stories free from the threat of harm, imprisonment, lawsuits or death has never been more important. To protect journalism itself, international and national law must work harder to protect the individuals most at risk. Without the threat of retribution for powerful individuals, the cycle of censorship will only continue.