When the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh recently loaned artwork for a new exhibit at the new Saudi Arabia Arts Center in AlUla, Celebrity: Andy Warhol in AlUlacommentators debated whether or not the museum should have agreed to work with the Saudi government. But “should they or shouldn’t they” is the wrong question. In fact, it is a mistaken, blunt yes-or-no proposition that is much more difficult to answer than the real question: under what conditions should an art museum, ethically and responsible, doing business and lending his works to a repressive and deeply authoritarian organization? government run by a sociopathic “royal” dictator who has perpetrated some of the grossest abuses in the world?
Some actors in the art world may learn that even arts institutions have human rights responsibilities, as outlined in the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rightsas well as the ten principles of the United Nations Global Compact and the organization Sustainable Development Goals. Essentially, these responsibilities require museums operating in a place like Saudi Arabia to consider whether they are contributing to human rights abuses and what steps they must take to address the adverse effects of their activities.
It’s no secret that the Saudi government has one of the worst human rights records in the world. The Saudi government has blindly and deliberately wellrod civilians in Yemen over the past eight years and imposed a land, air and sea blockade on the country that has claimed the lives of half a million Yemenis and reduced millions more to the brink of starvation. It has imprisoned Saudi activists, writers and even ordinary social media users to decades in prison for voicing the slightest criticism, including two Saudi women. imprisoned for 45 years and 34 years, for just a few tweets. Last month, a Saudi court increase sentencing an American citizen who made the mistake of visiting the country to 19 years in prison. His offence? Fourteen tweets from Florida criticizing Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS). MBS’s most infamous crime, of course, was the kidnapping, torture and murder of Washington, DC resident Jamal Khashoggi at the Saudi consulate in Istanbul. More than four years after the journalist’s murder, the Saudi government has still not revealed where it hid his remains. Recently, the government has also published a new “Personal Status Law” codifying the country’s family laws for the first time, but unfortunately retaining the worst provisions against women, requiring them to obtain permission from a male guardian to marry, receive certain medical procedures or leaving a detention centre, and subjecting them to severe discrimination in matters of divorce and child custody.
Many who seek to justify doing business with Saudi Arabia, which after all is one of the richest countries in the world, cite the sweeping changes to the country that the new Saudi leader has introduced: allowing women driving and revealing themselves in public; abolish the religious police; and allowing for, well, in-country fun like movies, concerts, and art exhibits. These changes are laudable, but they do not absolve the heinous crimes of the government or MBS, any more than Harvey Weinstein’s commitment to independent films is a defense against his rape of women. The Saudi government is well aware of its dire reputation, and that is precisely why it has poured billions of dollars into lavish, bling-bling and loud sports, fashion and entertainment projects at home and abroad. in the hope of being able sports wash, fashion washAnd art wash its bloody toll.
There should be no illusions that the Warhol Museum’s handsome paycheck and exaggerated benefits undoubtedly enjoyed by Patrick Moore and his staff only pay for the fine works of Warhol art. What the Saudi government really pays for – and what the Warhol Museum really sells – is legitimacy, credibility and support for its government*despite its blatant abuse*. This is how the Warhol Museum contributes to the Saudi government’s abuses, playing its part in an elaborate smoke-and-mirrors scheme designed to make us look away from women’s rights activists being tortured and languishing in prison, the 26 children of Sanaa breath to pieces by a Saudi bomb aimed at their school bus, the Saudi preacher faces the death penalty for calling for peace, and more.
Instead of brushing off criticism with superficial claims to support “cultural exchange”, the Warhol Museum should have done honest and serious due diligence on the impact of its exhibit on human rights, thought about how it could remedy or at least ameliorate the harms it inevitably contributed to, and fostered genuine public conversation, including with Saudi activists. Deciding to go ahead with the show should have been the start of such a discussion, not the end.
An important way to address the harms of such a spectacle would have been to consider how the museum could support the human rights of Saudi Arabia’s most vulnerable communities with content that could enrich the Saudi public’s understanding of these issues. The hugely stigmatized and legally sanctioned LGBTQ+ community would be a natural focus, given Warhol’s own experience as a gay man who lived through a time when discrimination against LGBTQ+ people was enshrined in law. Informing a Saudi public to understand Warhol’s work as deeply rooted in their identity and experience could have been an excellent starting point, and a truly positive and significant contribution to “discourse, education and cultural exchange” Mr. Moore cited in defense of the show. Instead, he seems to have selected Warhol’s more superficial and less demanding works, focused on “stardom” and “Hollywood stars”, in what can only be described as an exercise flagrant self-censorship, effectively submitting to Saudi Arabia. government restrictions on freedom of expression.
There really are a myriad of approaches the Warhol Museum could have considered to remedy some of the harms of its complicity in washing the arts, avoiding the strawman, deadening wording of “either/or.” Artists, curators and museums have no particular responsibility to expose or condemn all abuses by a foreign government. But when the daily abuses of a government undermine the very principles and purpose of art – to foster creativity, freedom of expression and universality – and a museum finds itself a tool for such abuses, it is time to pause and, at a minimum, find ways to reaffirm your human rights principles. The least obligation we have, Mr. Moore, is to do no harm.