Not all political leaders hate it when cartoonists poke fun at them. Some even proudly display the works in their offices. But these are usually democratic politicians, not authoritarian leaders whose power depends on a cult of personality.
US President Donald Trump, a democratically elected leader with strong autocratic tendencies, cannot stand ridicule. Some say his decision to run for president was a reaction to jokes that then-President Barack Obama made about him in 2011 at the annual White House Correspondents' Dinner. At the time, Trump could do nothing about it. Now, as president, he has the opportunity to try to silence those who mock him.
In September, ABC, owned by Disney, pulled the late-night show of comedian Jimmy Kimmel, who regularly criticizes Trump, from airing under pressure from the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). Trump hailed the move as “great news for America.” The backlash was so intense — 1,7 million people reportedly canceled their subscriptions to Disney+, Hulu, and ESPN — that Kimmel’s show was reinstated seven days later. Still, Trump has threatened to revoke the licenses of networks that air shows in which comedians make jokes about him.
Trump is not wrong in recognizing the power of humor. The French philosopher Voltaire, one of the greatest satirists of all time, once remarked, “I have only once made a request to God, and it was brief: ‘Oh, Lord, make my enemies look ridiculous.’” Ridicule exposes hypocrisy, exaggeration, deceit, and self-importance—all standard tricks used by authoritarian leaders.
In the past, monarchs and powerful nobility understood that ridicule could serve as a necessary corrective to the courtiers' tendency to flatter their rulers. This was the task of court jesters, who were allowed to mock the rulers with impunity - at least to a certain extent. But this was possible because everyone treated them as fools who posed no threat to those in power.
Since ancient Rome, satirists and comedians have had two main targets. The first is ideas - both secular and religious sacred. This was Voltaire's favorite terrain. He loved to poke fun at the Catholic Church, which he saw as a corrupt institution that oppressed people by spreading superstition. "Religion was born when the first swindler met the first fool," he said.
Since satirists from Voltaire to Kimmel often mock established authorities, one might assume that this kind of humor is generally “progressive,” or even left-wing. But in fact, the most deadly satirists can be found among conservatives. Jonathan Swift, for example, was a fierce defender of the Church of England. For a conservative comedian, there is no more juicy target than the humble pretensions of idealists, whose zeal for change is often incompatible with a sense of humor. Comedy lies more in skepticism and suspicion than in passionate advocacy for noble causes.
Another type of satire is aimed at the personalities of those in power. Brave comedians are those who dare to point out that the emperor is naked. As Bob Dylan once wrote: “Even the president of the United States has to be naked sometimes” (a line from the 1965 song It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), ed.).
This kind of mockery is rarely deadly when it comes to ordinary politicians. But the authority of monarchs and autocratic leaders depends on the aura around them. People obey them because they believe that kings, queens, and dictators are invincible. The grand stage of power is as important to the ruler as the violence that is threatened to befall the unruly. When comedians take aim at this, exposing such leaders as foolish braggarts, they challenge the very source of absolute power.
Hitler was enraged by Charlie Chaplin's 1940 masterpiece, "The Great Dictator." Chaplin didn't have to expose the murderous nature of fascism: it was enough for him to portray Hitler and Mussolini as fools. Nothing is more fatal to a demagogue than being laughed at.
In liberal societies like the United States, Great Britain, or France, leaders—including kings and queens—have to endure a certain level of ridicule. 18th- and 19th-century cartoonists were often ruthless. Thomas Rowlandson (1756-1827) portrayed the Prince of Wales as a drunken ruffian. Honoré Daumier (1808-1879) depicted King Louis-Philippe as obscenely obese.
Like tabloids and the tabloid press, this kind of disparagement was the price to be paid for freedom of expression. This is certainly the case in America, where the First Amendment offers broad protection for free speech - greater than in any other country. Public figures can be criticized, parodied, ridiculed, and even accused of anything - as long as it cannot be proven that there was "actual malice" behind it.
The late Czech director Miloš Forman, who immigrated to the United States in 1968, made the 1996 film “The People vs. Larry Flynt.” It depicted the legal battle between Flint, the owner of the pornographic magazine “Hasler,” and Jerry Falwell, a televangelist who sued Flint for emotional distress after a parody advertisement in “Hasler” in which Falwell recounted a sexual encounter with his own mother ran. The Supreme Court ruled unanimously in 1988 that emotional distress was not sufficient grounds to deny the First Amendment right to express critical opinions about government officials and other public figures.
Forman, a refugee from communist Czechoslovakia, was grateful to America for the First Amendment, which allowed him to show how a sleazy pornographer mocked a famous religious leader. If Trump succeeds in silencing the people who publicly mock him, the country where Forman, who died in 2018, and millions of others once found freedom will cease to exist.
(Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2025; prevod: radar.rs)
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