Words & Graphic by Oliver Schoening PZ ’28

On Oct. 2, 2018, Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi walked into the Saudi consulate in Istanbul to obtain documents for his upcoming marriage. He would never walk out. Khashoggi – a legal American resident awaiting a green card – was murdered by the Saudi government for his work as a dissident writer. 

Six years later, Saudi Arabia remains a key ally to the United States, and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the man widely understood to have ordered Khashoggi’s killing, now works hand-in-hand with the president. At a Nov. 19 press conference following his meeting with bin Salman, President Donald Trump brushed off a question from Mary Bruce of ABC News about Khashoggi, remarking: “A lot of people didn’t like that gentleman that you’re talking about. Whether you like him or didn’t like him, things happen.”

The exchange soured further. Trump lashed out again, calling it “a horrible, insubordinate, just terrible question.” The moment marked one of the sharpest confrontations of Trump’s second term between the president and the press – and it is emblematic of a broader shift. Trump’s reelection opened the floodgates for an all-out offensive on mainstream news, but as his first year back in office draws to a close, the tone feels less like a return to familiar hostilities and more like the escalation of a long-brewing conflict.

Trump and bin Salman’s new attempt at revisionist history comes at a crucial crossroads for the American media that was foreshadowed by Khashoggi’s murder. It is unrealistic to expect the American government to jeopardize their relationship with a major regional ally in the name of one journalist, but Khashoggi’s death and the Trump administration in 2018 and again today sends an important signal to the American news media and illustrates the ability of authoritarian governments to bend journalism to their will.

Saudi Arabia’s influence goes beyond extrajudicial killings of journalists like Khashoggi, too. The Saudi government-run Public Investment Fund (PIF) has invested in holding companies like Penske Media Corporation in the United States, which owns outlets like Variety and Rolling Stone, and holds interest in Vox Media. While they do not hold a controlling interest in Penske, these investments in U.S. media companies creates a conflict of interests, especially in the wake of Khashoggi’s death.

More recently, Variety reported that Paramount Skydance formed an investment group with sovereign wealth funds from various Gulf countries, including Saudi Arabia, with the purpose of acquiring Warner Bros. Discovery (WBD). While Paramount immediately denied any association with Saudi Arabia’s PIF, their CEO David Ellison was present at a state dinner held in bin Salman’s honor in Washington, D.C. following the press conference. 

It goes without saying that a public denial of business dealings with the Saudi government does not rule out talks behind closed doors, and Ellison’s meeting with bin Salman is not a minute detail by any means. In October, a Trump administration official emphasized the importance of a potential WBD acquisition, saying that “Who owns Warner Bros. Discovery is very important to the administration.” 

Unsurprisingly, Paramount’s denial of Saudi involvement was quickly proven to be untrue. Just three days after Netflix’s $83 billion deal on Dec. 5 to acquire Warner Bros., Paramount announced a $108 billion hostile bid for WBD backed by various firms, including the PIF and Affinity Partners, led by Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner. Unlike the Netflix deal, this proposed deal would also include various cable channels, including CNN.

WBD’s future is up in the air. It remains to be seen whether the Netflix deal will go through or if Paramount’s offer to the shareholders will win out, but the key here is Trump himself. Nothing is set in stone, but his personal interests and relationships with figures like bin Salman and Ellison will play a pivotal role in how any potential deal unfolds.

Trump does not have to wait for the business deals of his cronies to pressure the media, though. The White House has been well known to utilize public shaming of news outlets and reporters to apply pressure to his supposed detractors in the media. The White House website unveiled a “Media Offender of the Week” page this week, taking aim at outlets including CNN, CBS News, The Independent, and the Washington Post. The endgame of public denunciations of specific reporters on the official White House website could not be more clear. Many different media outlets have drastically altered their approaches in attempts to appease the Trump administration and avoid unnecessary pressure, including the Washington Post and CBS News. 

The inclusion of CBS is especially ironic given David Ellison’s recent appointment of Bari Weiss, former New York Times columnist and founder of The Free Press, as its editor-in-chief. While Weiss does not explicitly identify as conservative, she is widely associated with her contrarian and reactionary politics, and her appointment signals a strategic pivot by legacy media owners toward capturing a more right-leaning audience. 

While a centrist shift for news media could end up being a positive thing for the political landscape, Weiss is the last person who might bring it around. Though Weiss has positioned herself as a casualty of cancel culture and political polarization, to accept her as such is a grave mistake. Weiss is a savvy political operator whose career has been meticulously built around her self-fashioned identity as a martyr for free speech. 

Weiss recently released ten principles that will ostensibly guide her work at CBS moving forward, the most amusing of which being “journalism that holds both American political parties to equal scrutiny.” At first glance, there is nothing wrong with this, but the directionality of this strategy is important considering Weiss’s vendetta against various outlets on the left side of the political spectrum. It is irrational to expect absolute objectivity from any news source, but this blatant rightward shift at CBS News is emblematic of a larger issue for free press, the fact being that these companies ultimately operate at the behest of individuals like Ellison, who have larger interests in mind. Profit and personal relationships with the Trump regime come before journalistic integrity because it is easier to fall into line than risk lawsuits and pressure from the government. 

The Washington Post, Khashoggi’s former employer, is no stranger to this. Owner Jeff Bezos notably blocked the Post’s editorial board from publishing an endorsement of Kamala Harris in 2022, leading to a spate of resignations. In February this year, Bezos published a letter on X announcing changes to the Post’s opinions section, writing:

We are going to be writing every day in support and defense of two pillars: personal liberties and free markets. We’ll cover other topics too of course, but viewpoints opposing those pillars will be left to be published by others. 

There was a time when a newspaper, especially one that was a local monopoly, might have seen it as a service to bring to the reader’s doorstep every morning a broad-based opinion section that sought to cover all views. Today, the internet does that job.

By prescribing the ideological direction of the Washington Post, Bezos replaced editorial independence with owner interference, eroding trust in the publication’s legacy as a bastion for journalistic freedom all in the name of one man’s political and commercial interests.

The future of media freedom in the United States is more precarious by the day. The deals that concern its present and future are made behind closed doors, but there is always a trail to follow. The willingness of individuals like Bezos and Ellison to bow down to politicians like Trump and bin Salman due to political and financial interests paints a bleak picture of the future. Even worse, their acquiescence stains the legacy of free press in the U.S. with the blood of Jamal Khashoggi, who was murdered for embodying the very ideals publications are supposed to enshrine. Democracy dies in darkness, indeed.