In “Eagles of the Republic,” director Tarik Saleh confronts the tense relationship within authoritarian regimes between art and power.

This film, in official competition, doesn’t just tell the story of an actor forced to comply with state propaganda; it illustrates, with great finesse, how art can become both a tool of protest and an instrument of domination.

Under the regime of al-Sissi, the artistic space in Egypt is monitored, restricted, and sometimes repressed brutally. Artists, journalists, and intellectuals critical of the government are regularly harassed. Cinema, a powerful vector of influence and wide means of communicating is no exception to this logic of control. In this context, “Eagles of the Republic” shows how a regime can dominate cinematic production to create its political mythology—in this case, by forcing a popular actor to star in a biopic glorifying the president.

The character of George Fahmy (Fares Fares) embodies this dilemma: how can you remain true to your artistic conscience and moral convictions when the regime controls not only your career but also the safety, or lack thereof, of your loved ones? By accepting a role imposed by Egypt’s military, Fahmy enters a cycle of endless compromises.

This dynamic is not unique to Egypt. It is found in many authoritarian regimes, where art can only exist as a distorted mirror, where broken and recomposed artistic expression must always be approved by the authorities in the end. Tarik Saleh, by choosing “cinema” as the subject of the film, takes the reflection further: what becomes of an art that’s been emptied of its subversive content, ie., a tool of dominance?

But the film “Eagles of the Republic” doesn’t just make an observation; it offers a more complex interpretation, emphasizing that even under duress, the artist can find spaces of resistance. The humanity of the main character, his doubts, his silences, his jokes, his transgressions of all codes (he has a affair with with the defense minister’s wife) themselves become acts of rebellion.
This film reminds us that art, even when held captive, carries within it a memory of freedom. It also shows that censorship never completely triumphs: it often generates more subtle, more coded, but equally powerful forms of protest.

In a regime like al-Sissi’s, where on-screen renderings of power need to be sleek, monolithic, and heroic, the real artist becomes both target and tool. “Eagles of the Republic” forces us to confront this tension and question our own relationship with artistic freedom. The film is a cry for the dignity of art, for its ability to tell the truth, for its power to express the unexpected.

Tarik Saleh (center) and the cast from “EAGLES OF THE REPUBLIC”