Today : Oct 27, 2025
Arts & Culture
27 October 2025

Jon Stewart And Mo Amer Stand Firm As Comedy Faces Political Pressure

With late-night TV under scrutiny and stand-up comedians confronting censorship, Jon Stewart and Mo Amer push back against political and corporate forces reshaping the industry.

It’s a turbulent time for late-night comedy—and for the comedians who dare to speak their minds. As the landscape of American television and stand-up evolves under political and corporate pressures, two figures stand at the intersection of laughter and controversy: Jon Stewart, the iconic host of The Daily Show, and Mo Amer, the Palestinian American comedian whose new Netflix special, Wild World, debuts October 28, 2025.

Jon Stewart isn’t ready to leave the stage just yet. At the New Yorker Festival on October 26, Stewart addressed swirling rumors about his future at The Daily Show, whose contract is set to expire in December. "We’re working on staying," Stewart told New Yorker editor David Remnick, making it clear he wants to continue hosting the show he returned to in early 2024 after a nearly decade-long hiatus. But the world he’s returned to is far different—and far more fraught—than the one he left behind.

Since Stewart’s comeback, the late-night landscape has been upended. Paramount, which owns Comedy Central, merged with Skydance, bringing David Ellison (son of Oracle co-founder Larry Ellison) in as Stewart’s new boss. Meanwhile, other late-night stalwarts have faced their own reckonings. CBS announced in July that Stephen Colbert’s The Late Show would end in May 2026—a decision the network chalked up to finances, but which Stewart and others suspect was influenced by Colbert’s criticism of a $16 million Paramount settlement with Donald Trump. ABC’s Jimmy Kimmel Live! was briefly suspended after Kimmel’s on-air comments about conservative activist Charlie Kirk’s assassin sparked outrage, threats from FCC commissioner Brendan Carr, and pre-emptions by major affiliate groups.

Stewart, never one to shy from controversy, has been vocal about what he sees as a chilling effect on free expression. On The Daily Show, he lampooned the rationale behind The Late Show’s cancellation: "If you’re trying to figure out why Stephen’s show is ending, I don’t think the answer can be found in some smoking gun email or phone call from Trump to CBS executives... I think the answer is in the fear and pre-compliance that is gripping all of America’s institutions at this very moment." Stewart’s satirical response to Kimmel’s suspension—an "administration-compliant" episode—underscored his point that comedians, while visible, are not the true victims. "The victims are the people that are struggling to have any voice and are being forcibly removed from streets by hooded agents—those are the victims of this administration," he said, as reported by The Hollywood Reporter.

Corporate shakeups have only added to the uncertainty. Paramount Skydance recently appointed Kenneth Weinstein, former CEO of the conservative-leaning Hudson Institute, as CBS News’ ombudsman, and brought on Bari Weiss as editor-in-chief, acquiring her platform The Free Press. Stewart, referencing his own precarious position, quipped, "I’m not going anywhere. I think," before attributing his uncertainty to his own neuroses. Yet, throughout his festival appearance, Stewart insisted on the necessity of standing firm: "You don’t compromise on what you do, and you do it until they tell you to leave."

Meanwhile, Mo Amer is carving out his own space in the comedy world, one that is just as fearless—and just as fraught with risk. Born in Kuwait to Palestinian refugees, Amer’s family fled the Gulf War, eventually settling in Houston. His life, marked by displacement and cultural negotiation, fuels both his stand-up and his Netflix show, Mo. "I’m the only one," Amer told The New Yorker, referring to his status as a Palestinian American comic. That sense of responsibility has only grown since the events of October 7, 2023, and the ensuing violence in Gaza. Amer’s new special, Wild World, is, by his own account, "more polished" than the raw sets he performed in the aftermath, but it doesn’t pull punches—opening with a blunt "Fuck DJ Khaled," a jab at the hip-hop star’s silence on the conflict.

Amer’s comedy is deeply personal and political, often focusing on his Palestinian American identity and the complexities of belonging. He recounts stories of performing for U.S. troops before he was even a citizen, navigating post-9/11 America, and encountering racism in everyday life. In a particularly poignant anecdote, Amer recalls working at a Texas flag shop after 9/11 and being confronted with a racial slur by a customer. "I was so jarred. I had never heard that term before, but obviously I understood right away what that meant," he said, describing how he used humor and quick thinking to turn the situation on its head.

Amer’s willingness to address controversial topics hasn’t come without consequences. He’s faced pushback for his outspoken views on Palestine, including being denied a performance at the DC Improv after speaking at a Jewish Voice for Peace rally. "It was shocking. I was, like, ‘Bro, I’ve made you money. We know each other. We’re like family.’ That’s how I saw it, at least. They know me. They know I’m not the guy trying to piss people off. I’m trying to bring people together," Amer told The New Yorker. He ended up performing at another venue, using the stage to process his grief and anger over the ongoing conflict and its toll on Palestinian families.

Amer is also among the comedians performing at the Riyadh Comedy Festival in Saudi Arabia, an event criticized as an attempt by the kingdom to whitewash its autocracy. Amer, however, sees it differently. "I am an Arab American comedian. I’m Palestinian. I’m there for the people," he explained, noting the importance of representation for local and expatriate Palestinians. "People think it’s going to be kings and royals, but who do you think goes there? It’s locals and expats. The impact will be felt many many years afterward. It’s something you feel in your gut: This is good. This is going to be something."

Amer’s friendships with fellow comedians Jon Stewart and Jimmy Kimmel have provided support during turbulent times. When Kimmel’s show was suspended, Amer texted him immediately: "I thought it was absurd... It was just shocking to me. I was, like, We’re toast if this is the road that we’re going on." Both Amer and Stewart have expressed concern over the tightening boundaries of acceptable speech—whether it’s about Palestine, politics, or the president.

Stewart, for his part, remains unsparing in his critiques of both major political parties. He attributes Trump’s electoral appeal to widespread disillusionment with government: "There’s a reason Donald Trump came to power, and that is that in the general populous mind, government no longer serves the interests of the people it purports to represent." Yet, he also faults the Democratic party for its "passivity... to stick with the status quo that most people felt was not working for their needs." Despite his criticisms, Stewart pointed to the massive turnout at the No Kings rallies as a sign of hope. "When 7 million people show up in America on a weekend for anything... that discomfort may be our saving grace," he said, suggesting that even in times of suppression, opportunities for inspiration and leadership remain.

As late-night television faces existential threats and stand-up comedians navigate increasingly treacherous terrain, Stewart and Amer exemplify resilience and resolve. Their stories—one from the anchor desk, the other from the stage—are reminders that comedy, at its best, is about more than just laughs. It’s about truth-telling, connection, and refusing to be silenced, no matter how wild the world becomes.