“Every joke is a tiny revolution.” – George Orwell, An Age Like This: 1920–1940
That Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky is a former comedian elected to lead his country in a brutal and bloody pushback of neighbour Vladimir Putin’s grand imperial ambition is a cautionary tale.
Although it is almost certain that Zelensky, who has a law degree, will sadly never be able again to practise his second talent, the power of resistance in the dark art of joyful subversion – laughter – remains clear and eternal.
It was humour, satire and comedy that elevated Zelensky’s profile and ensured his “Servant of the People” party captured 73% of the vote in 2019.
He was 45. Since then Ukraine has been at war.
Zelensky’s election was noted as one of those when-life-imitates-art moments, which frankly occur more regularly than we might care to acknowledge.
Over in the land of reality television, McDonald’s, Diet Coke, guns and Bibles, it took Donald Trump 14 seasons of The Apprentice to build and spread his particular brand of sado-capitalism.
Grandiosity and delusion mixed in with a huge scoop of massive power and stupidity are to comedians and satirists like a red rag to a raging bull.
Humour is democratic
It is little wonder then that in this world (as we hang in suspended animation, caught in a moment of farcical history in the making), our very own cartoonist, Zapiro, and comedy slasher shows such as Saturday Night Live (SNL) provide havens of sanity and relief.
SNL kicked off its 50th anniversary season in September 2024 and has provided a platform for countless budding young comic talents who have harnessed the muse of laughter.
Social media, too, has been weaponised against itself and offered a platform to millions of brilliant, funny people across the globe mocking governments, businesses, leaders and everything else that makes a fair target.
That’s why, right now, it is dangerous to be a comedian in the US. If you are a comedian from elsewhere travelling to Fortress Trump, you had better take a burner phone.
A parting guffaw
In the mid-2000s, Ben Lewis travelled to former Eastern bloc countries to explore the history of humour in totalitarian regimes for a BBC4 documentary, titled Hammer and Tickle.
In an essay for Prospect magazine, Lewis wrote: “Jokes may not have carried the weight of the great forces which ended communism, but they were more than mere figures of speech. Jokes kept alive in the minds of the citizens of the Soviet bloc the idea of an alternative reality, and they made light of four decades of occupation of eastern and central Europe.
“They may even explain why the end of communism was so sudden and so bloodless. No point in anyone getting hurt over a little joke, right?”
Here then is a classic from that era.
A man dies and goes to hell. He finds he has two choices. He can choose either capitalist or communist hell.
Needing to check out his options, he goes to capitalist hell where he meets Satan, who looks remarkably like Ronald Reagan.
“What’s it like in there?” he asks.
“Well,” the devil replies, “in capitalist hell, they flay you alive, then they boil you in oil and then they cut you up into small pieces with sharp knives.”
“That’s terrible!” the man gasps. “I’m going to check out communist hell!”
He finds his way to communist hell, where he discovers a long queue of people waiting to get in. He waits in line and, eventually, gets to the front.
There a little old man, a dead ringer for Karl Marx, greets him.
“I’m still in the free world, Karl,” says the hungry ghost, “and before I come in, I want to know what it’s like in there.”
“In communist hell,” replies Marx gruffly, “they flay you alive, then they boil you in oil, and then they cut you up into small pieces with sharp knives.”
“But… but that’s the same as capitalist hell!” protests the soul, “Why such a long queue?”
“Well,” sighs Marx, “Sometimes we’re out of oil, sometimes we don’t have knives, sometimes no hot water…” DM
