STENDHAL famously observed that “Politics in a work of imagination is like a pistol shot in a concert, a crude affair but attention must be paid to it.” If by some miracle of science Stendhal was around to see the work of Scottish writer and political satirist Armando Iannucci he may want to amend that simile. Iannucci’s acerbic takes on modern politics in pitch-black sitcoms like The Thick of It and its transatlantic cousin VEEP aren’t so much pistol shots in a concert as they are napalmed f-bombs going off in the hallowed hallways of Number 10 and The White House. But while his characters are among the most creatively foul-mouthed and consistently foul-tempered public servants to ever be captured on film, they’re also among the most human.
Much like a lot of fantasy worlds, the world of politics is a world of heroes and villains. It’s much easier to say (and write) nasty things about politicians if you reduce them to archetype and completely ignore the fact that they’re living, breathing human beings with interior lives and all sorts of nuances and contradictions that regular people possess. Take for instance Loubiton-loving former Communications minister Dina Pule, whose recent public shaming could have flowed straight out of Iannucci’s acidic pen. Here’s a public servant who’s been (quite rightly) branded a liar and a plunderer of state resources after being found guilty by parliament of misleading the whole nation about her ‘friend with benefits’.
I have a strong suspicion the well-heeled Ms Pule better resembles the harried characters populating Iannucci’s fictionalized worlds than the boring political caricatures we’ve seen in the South African media. I can imagine her as a localised version of VEEP’s Selina Meyers or The Thick of It’s Nicola Murray, two women in politics maddened by their jobs’ taunting combination of power and powerlessness, and forever at risk of public embarrassment. They inhabit a world in which no one is led by principle, or has time to think. Politics is media relations; the only policy is damage control. Self-preservation is more important than ideals, and obfuscation is at least as important as effective legislation. It’s a bleak view of politics that is at least grounded in reality its comprehensive vision, which is more than can be said about some political journalism. Like in real life, there are no cardboard cut-out villians, and there certainly are no unimpeachable heroes.
