US politics a melodrama
My first year at university, 2004, was the same year President George W Bush defeated John Kerry for the United States presidency. There was a lot of interest in that election. Only the year before, America had invaded Iraq.
One of the other students in my hall somehow obtained an official Kerry campaign placard. She hung it on the outside of her door. Like most New Zealanders, I really wanted Kerry to prevail. But there was something a bit weird about going to that level of effort for what was, after all, a foreign election.
New Zealanders don’t vote for the American president, of course, unless they are also US citizens. What was the point of displaying the placard? Who was there to convince?
Looking back, the display is more easily comprehended. Politics has become more and more about entertainment and, while it may have been more nascent back then, it was a developing trend. And since the US is a pop-cultural superpower, it makes sense that we turn to that country for much of our political entertainment.
New Zealanders who love basketball often follow the NBA, and it wouldn’t be surprising for such a person to affix a Golden State Warriors sticker to the rear window of his or her car.
Is it so surprising then that a ‘‘fan’’ of liberalism might signal their identification in the same way? Somebody into music might well wear an Arcade Fire T-shirt. And pro-wrestling fans sometimes pin posters of their favourite WWE superstars up in their rooms.
The last of those illustrations is quite deliberate because it’s the most analogous. Of all the forms of popular entertainment out there, American politics most resembles the contrived drama and conflict staged by World Wrestling Entertainment, otherwise known as WWE.
That the presidency of Donald Trump has made this clear is no surprise. Back in the eighties, the future president was an early backer of Wrestlemania, which has become the industry marquee event. Associated with the business ever since, Trump was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2013.
As almost everybody knows, pro-wrestling is not a competitive sport. It is, instead, a form of lowbrow performing art. Central to its appeal is a scripted conflict between designated good guys, known as ‘‘babyfaces’’ or just ‘‘faces’’, and bad guys, known as ‘‘heels’’.
The faces conduct themselves in a way that is intended to elicit support from the crowd. The heels, meanwhile, act in stereotypically villainous ways to generate anger from the spectators. Where a face might praise the town in which the venue is located, for example, the heel will insult it and the fans packed into the arena.
Wrestling is not particularly enriching or uplifting. It’s certainly an acquired taste. If you can get into it, however, it is entertaining.
I watched wrestling well into my twenties. Some of my friends continue to enjoy this vulgar ballet, despite being in their thirties and in the thick of professional careers. I probably still would, if I had the time and didn’t have young children.
If you’ve ever been into wrestling, you will probably have recognised all the ways in which Trump adopts the methods and tactics of a wrestling heel. It’s not subtle. The cruel humour, the insults and the braggadocio seem targeted to elicit the same reaction as the ‘‘bad guy’’ in the ring. Given his connections to the business, it’s hard to believe that’s a coincidence.
The US just completed congressional elections. The interest in this from journalists, commentators and political nerds here was extraordinarily high when you consider that, after all, Americans were only electing a portion of onethird of the federal part of their government. The amount of local discussion about turnout, electoral boundaries and fundraising was quite astonishing. This is, remember, another country.
The vicarious melodrama makes total sense, however, if you consider it through the lens of wrestling fans getting excited about the next payper-view. It’s certainly hard to think of anything else that combines such intense anticipation, command of details and acceptance of a simplistic moral narrative.
It would be worrying if the pro-wrestling style of doing and covering politics really catches on here. Our media has a tendency to adopt American political idioms for domestic use. This probably just reflects how saturated we are with American culture and the fact that people sometimes like to imagine they are a TV character.
But assuming this phenomenon does not taint our domestic politics, I don’t think it’s really a problem. People are entitled to their hobbies and interests. If people want to spend hours and hours studying up on the fiendishly complex tax system and regulation of healthcare in the US so they can argue with Republicans on Twitter, that’s fine. Some people enjoy stamp collecting.
American politics most resembles the contrived drama and conflict staged by World Wrestling Entertainment, otherwise known as WWE.