Artists and the 3 Ws - when, where, and about what should they speak up?
“I don’t know what happened – he started this, like, political rant, and now they’re all being pulled off stage. They’re saying we might not even get the rest of the show. It’s insane.”
Though I hadn't been at the festival myself, visiting family in Malaysia for the summer allowed me behind-the-scenes access to the Good Vibes Festival controversy in all its glory. In case you missed it, The 1975’s setlist in the festival was cut short following lead singer Matty Healy’s drunken speech criticising the Malaysian government’s anti-LGBTQ+ approach: “I am sorry if that offends you and you’re religious and it’s part of your [...] government, but [...] I don’t care anymore. If you push, I am going to push back.” He later emphasised his commitment to this stance by kissing fellow bandmate Ross MacDonald, which ultimately resulted in the festival being shut down and the band being banned from Malaysia entirely.
Healy’s rant was met with mixed reactions - some praised his enthusiastic defence of the LGBTQ+ community, celebrating his apparent willingness to speak out on behalf of all those oppressed by the Malaysian government’s treatment of the community. However, many – particularly Malaysians, including those in the LGBTQ+ community – criticised his approach, arguing that it had only gone on to make everything worse.
So, what went wrong?
While it is true that rebellion often leads to change, drunken ramblings are hardly the fuel needed to get that fire going. Effective advocacy demands a strategic approach, one that employs reasoned discourse and well-articulated arguments to challenge prevailing norms. Healy's speech, while perhaps reflective of his well-intentioned passion, inadvertently plays into the hands of those who seek to dismiss the legitimate concerns of the LGBTQ+ community, such as the Malaysian government.
The history of Malaysia’s anti-LGBTQ+ approach is also significant. Malaysia’s federal penal code, which punishes oral and anal sex with up to 20 years in prison, was first introduced during British colonial rule. However, evidence has been uncovered suggesting that, prior to this forced imposition of beliefs and values, Malaysia was home to various non-gender conforming communities. The effects of foreign rule continue to be felt in the post-colonial world, and must be treated with sensitivity and thoughtfulness; the careless remarks of a foreigner are unlikely to incite any sort of meaningful change.
Healy’s actions, in this regard, align with those of a “white saviour” – the phenomenon in which a white person “guides people of colour from the margins to the mainstream with his or her own initiative and benevolence,” which tends to render the people of colour “incapable of helping themselves” and disposes them of historical agency. The dangerous assumption that Healy made when embarking on his speech was that the Malaysian public were unaware, or accepting, of the anti-LGBTQ+ stance endorsed by the government. In reality, there has been slow, but deliberate, change taking place: discussions with local governmental agencies, provision of educational materials, amongst other actions. Summarised best by X user Joe Lee, Healy’s actions have only served to “[...] discount and [disrupt] YEARS of work by local activists who have been pushing for change and understanding AND endangering our vulnerable minority communities.”.
It is important to note at this point that the concern here is not Healy’s disapproval of Malaysia’s official anti-LGBTQ+ position - plenty of meaningful change has been spearheaded by public figures using their platforms to speak out against oppression and discrimination. The criticism here is directed at his approach to addressing the issue. As evidenced by the actions of other artists, there are more civil, considerate ways to express dissatisfaction with such sensitive subjects - for example, directing the proceedings of an event to a charity or organisation committed to helping the oppressed community in question, or simply refusing to perform in the country altogether.
By using this explosive approach to convey his beliefs, Healy not only endangered the LGBTQ+ community as aforementioned, but also caused various types of damage to many others – financial, to those poised to perform on the remaining days of the festival before it was shut down, to the eager concert-goers excited to see these acts, and to the local vendors at the venue; reputational, to the 10-year-old festival and its sponsors. This has culminated in a class-action lawsuit being pursued against the band, with Malaysian firm Thomas Phillip seeking remuneration on behalf of the local artists and vendors affected by this “deliberate reckless act done knowing well [sic] of the consequences.”.
The aftermath of Healy’s actions sheds light on the sensitivity of advocacy, particularly the power and responsibility that come along with it. In particular, his impassioned but ill-considered actions serve as a reminder of the powerful intersection between music and activism. While musicians have often utilised their platforms to speak out on behalf of the marginalised, the Good Vibes Festival incident raises important questions about the potential benefits and consequences of merging music with socio-political advocacy. The road to progress is a slow one, one that requires long-term dedication and support beyond a well-intentioned yet haphazard speech – it requires recognition of the fact that the impact of our advocacy extends far beyond our immediate intentions. Musicians must utilise their opportunities to leverage their art for positive change strategically, ensuring that the benefits of their advocacy resonate harmoniously with the spirit of their music.
Image courtesy of Victoria Marshall via Unsplash. Image license can be found here.
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