Built on Sand

In October 2018, Jamal Khashoggi entered the Saudi consulate in Istanbul and never came out. A journalist for The Washington Post and Middle East Eye who was fiercely critical of his country’s regime, Khashoggi was ambushed by a 15-man Saudi hit team; he was suffocated to death and his body was dismembered with a bone saw. According to U.S. intelligence officials, these actions were ordered by Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the de facto head of state.

An international outcry followed Khashoggi’s murder, and human rights groups urged governments to sever trade links with the Saudi state. But unlike other countries like Germany, Finland, and Denmark, who canceled their arms deals with the country, Britain stalled. Among the many voices strongly condemning this inaction online was the British singer Sarah Connolly. “Pacify the people with stalling nonsense because money matters more than morals,” she tweeted. “That’s where our government puts us.”

Connolly is a Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire, a recipient of the King’s Medal for Music, the president of British Youth Opera, a former soloist at the Last Night of the Proms, and one of a handful of British opera singers with name recognition among the arts crowds here. She’s also a prolific tweeter. (At over 43,000 tweets since she joined the site in 2010, nobody can accuse her of being backward in coming forward.) 

Particularly enraged by Brexit, Connolly emerged as a forthright champion of causes specific (British musicians’ rights to work in Europe) and general (the rights to assembly and free speech), regularly declaring the need for journalists and the public to hold politicians to account. One memorable exchange involved Connolly calling out member of parliament (and arts patron) Jesse Norman (no relation), citing accountability site They Work For You’s verdict on his voting record. “I wonder if the musicians you support are aware of how you feel about human rights and equality?” Connolly asked.

It’s 8 a.m. on a Friday morning when Connolly appears on a video call (along with her publicist) to talk about her involvement with “Zarqa Al Yamama,” a Saudi-funded production of Australian composer Lee Bradshaw’s first opera. The production is a flagship project for the Saudi government, in which Connolly plays the title character, a blue-eyed, Cassandra-like figure from pre-Islamic folklore. (If you do find yourself in Riyadh before May 5, there are many, many tickets still available.)

We manage 20 minutes of solid conversation, before we’re interrupted by a faulty internet connection at Connolly’s end. She reappears briefly, before being cut off again shortly afterwards. When she returns for a third time, it’s only to say that we’re out of time before she’s whisked away to a rehearsal. Several attempts to finish the interview are unsuccessful. 

During our short conversation, Connolly spoke about online activism, embracing the challenge of singing in Arabic, and why she’s heading up a high-profile cultural project funded by a regime she once described as “murdering autocrats stuck in a time warp.”