Even PM reads satirical paper
A cartoon in the latest issue of Prass Press, a new satirical newspaper in Bulgaria, depicts leaders “in charge of the global circus”: Donald Trump straddling amissile; Kim Jong Un preparing to launch a warhead with a slingshot; and the prime ministers of Bulgaria and Hungary under the label “baby dictators.”
On the cover, the Bulgarian prime minister, Boiko Borisov, is seen holding hands with an ally, Volen Siderov, who is the head of an extreme-right party known for its rhetorical attacks on migrants and on the Turkish and Roma minority groups.
Satire that pushes the boundaries of taste is nothing new in the West, but in Bulgaria — the European Union’s poorest country, and ranked by Reporters Without Borders as the worst in the 28-nation bloc when it comes to press freedom — Prass Press has quickly found readers. It offers a satirical lens on issues such as corruption, the region’s right-wing turn and the growing pains of an economy that remains underdeveloped a decade after joining the EU.
Although cartoons, comic strips and collages are at the heart of the newspaper, it also offers political commentary and Onion-style news parody. Readers have likened its tone to that of Charlie Hebdo in France.
“Young and old, women and men, I got asked the same question every week: When will the new edition be released?” said Yulia Vasileva, who sells newspapers in the centre of Sofia, the Bulgarian capital. Even the targets of the mockery are reading. Borisov — who has begun a third stint as prime minister after elections last month — counts himself a subscriber, though he says the cartoons make him look too fat.
Adeputy prime minister, Tomislav Donchev, posted a photograph on Facebook of himself reading the second issue.
A handful of cartoonists started the publication, which comes out every two weeks, with a meagre 4,000 lev, or about $3,060. “No politicians will be spared and we won’t pull any punches,” said one of them, Chavdar Nikolov.
But the first issue — which carried a story on judicial corruption, an endemic problem in Bulgaria — almost didn’t get off the ground.
Although 10,000 copies were printed, most never arrived at newsstands. The newspaper couldn’t get the distribution company to pick up the phone; it suspected political interference.
Eventually, 3,600 copies were returned, some of them stained and smudged. The cartoonists took them to an outdoor book market in Sofia, where about 50 copies were sold in 10 minutes.
For the second issue, the publishers decided to distribute the newspaper themselves, to independent bookstores and newsstands throughout the country. This time, the print run was 8,000, and only 76 copies were returned unsold.
Stefka Veleva, 77, visited five newspaper kiosks before she could get her hands on a copy of the third issue, at a bookstore in central Sofia. “I enjoy satire, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” she said. “We need more critical voices in this country.”
Nikolov marvelled: “People stop us on the street to congratulate us and tell us that they support us, or just give us a ‘thumbs up’ sign.”