Intro
In the weeks following the Riyadh Comedy Festival, much of the conversation has been dominated by accusations of “artwashing” and how the event has been used by the Saudi government to improve its global image. Critics point to the state’s history of human rights abuses, particularly against LGBTQ+ individuals, and question whether it’s ethical to perform in such a context. While these critiques are valid, what gets overlooked in much of the discourse is how this event, despite its flaws, has had a profound, unintended effect on both Saudi Arabia’s public perception and the global stage.
Sure, the festival was designed to “sanitize” Saudi Arabia’s image. But in doing so, it also inadvertently opened a door that was previously shut tight — allowing voices and ideas into the kingdom that would have otherwise been silenced or ignored. The inclusion of LGBTQ+ performers, and the representation of diverse identities and worldviews, may be far more powerful than anyone realizes.
1. Breaking the Bubble: A Rare Window to the Outside World
Saudi Arabia, like many authoritarian regimes, has tightly controlled what its citizens are exposed to — especially when it comes to alternative lifestyles and global perspectives. This festival, however, brought in a diverse array of international comedians, many of whom are openly LGBTQ+, and pushed their way into the kingdom’s highly curated media landscape.
Even within the rigid boundaries of a state-sponsored event, these voices — whether censored or not — are now a part of the national conversation. For a society that largely restricts access to LGBTQ+ rights and diversity, seeing comedians like Jessica Kirson (openly lesbian) or Pete Davidson (an advocate for inclusivity) performing is a step toward exposure to new, often foreign ideas.
The performances weren’t just jokes — they were humanized encounters with what Saudi Arabia’s culture has long ignored or demonized. That’s not insignificant. This wasn’t just about making the state look good internationally; it also meant that, for the first time, many Saudis were forced to reckon with voices and identities that had long been repressed.
2. The Irony of State-Sponsored Diversity
It’s almost ironic: a regime known for its severe restrictions on freedoms, particularly concerning LGBTQ+ individuals, chose to invite comedians whose very existence challenges the social order. By doing so, the Saudi government inadvertently opened a door for people to see diversity, challenge their preconceived notions, and even laugh about it.
While some argue that the government’s inclusion of LGBTQ+ performers was a calculated move to appear progressive, the reality is that the exposure itself is powerful. Even if it was a PR stunt, the fact that these performers were given a platform at all sends a subtle message: Saudi Arabia is, for the first time, publicly engaging with global diversity, even if only for a moment.
This kind of exposure is a silent force of resistance. Saudi audiences were introduced to voices they might never have encountered otherwise. Whether they agreed or disagreed, these voices were presented as legitimate, as people to be taken seriously, even if it was only through comedy.
3. Humanizing the ‘Other’: Opening Hearts and Minds
One of the most powerful effects of comedy is its ability to humanize the “other” — especially when it comes to marginalized communities. In a repressive society where LGBTQ+ individuals are often erased from the public sphere, giving a queer comedian the chance to perform in front of a Saudi audience forces the issue: “These people are not strangers. They exist, and they laugh, and they matter.”
Even though the jokes might have been sanitized to meet government standards, the performance itself — a human being with lived experience sharing their perspective — can plant the seeds for change. The very act of seeing an openly gay comedian on stage can chip away at the belief that LGBTQ+ people are dangerous or immoral.
Sure, it’s not a revolution, but it’s a small shift in perception, especially when the person making the jokes is seen as funny, relatable, and, importantly, human. It creates a cognitive dissonance that makes it harder for rigid stereotypes to stick.
4. The Social Ripple Effect: Small Acts, Big Change
This event may not spark immediate, sweeping social change, but small acts of exposure add up. Comedians who performed in Riyadh may have been censored or forced to sanitize their material, but what they represented on that stage was a break from the narrative that the Saudi government has long tried to project — that LGBTQ+ people and diverse identities don’t exist or don’t belong.
Over time, the continued exposure to different ideas — even in a controlled, sanitized environment — can lead to shifts in the social fabric. Young people in the audience, in particular, might start to see that there is a world beyond the one they’ve been told about. They might begin to question the narratives they’ve grown up with, and in doing so, they help lay the groundwork for a more inclusive and open society in the future.
5. The Subtle Power of “Soft Resistance”
Here’s the thing: This festival might have been tightly controlled, state-sponsored, and carefully curated. But it still allowed for diverse voices to be heard — and that’s an act of resistance in itself.
Even though Saudi Arabia’s government has tried to present a sanitized version of itself to the world, it could not entirely block the entry of LGBTQ+ voices, diverse perspectives, and global ideas. The mere presence of these performers, on stage, with their jokes and their stories, is a subversive act in a country where LGBTQ+ rights are criminalized.
Over time, the cracks in the wall of repression will widen. What started as a controlled, sanitized festival could become part of the fabric of change in Saudi Arabia, even if that change is slow, subtle, and imperceptible to some.
Conclusion
In the end, the Riyadh Comedy Festival 2025 wasn’t just a PR stunt. It was a real and complicated cultural moment. Saudi Arabia tried to use it as a tool for soft power, but what they didn’t fully control was the human connection that happens when diverse, marginalized voices are allowed to take the stage. Even if the event was sanitized, the exposure to diversity, to LGBTQ+ voices, is not nothing. It’s an opening. A crack. A tiny but important step toward a broader conversation about representation, humanity, and change.
As much as we critique the event for its whitewashing of Saudi Arabia’s image, we cannot overlook the fact that it has introduced new ideas to a society that has long been closed off from them. In this way, the festival inadvertently served as a bridge between worlds, one where the personal and the political intersect, and where the power of exposure has the potential to make a lasting impact.
Thanks for sharing. I read many of your blog posts, cool, your blog is very good.