God save Binface. Lessons for clowns across Europe

I have always condemned comedians who enter politics, as the gravest breach of professional ethics a comedian can commit is to ask to be taken seriously. That is why I welcome with joy the first exception to the rule that I have come across: Count Binface (alias the English comedian Jonathan Harvey), an alien from the planet Sigma IX, dressed in a jumpsuit, cape and a bin on his head, who in the 13 August election for the Clacton constituency is challenging none other than Nigel Farage (a Brexit advocate and a candidate to lead England in the future, who knows what else besides). Count Binface is, of course, a fictional character and a satirical candidate (though the candidacy is real, let’s be clear): an age-old English tradition, somewhere between local colour and a celebration of democracy. Usually, these candidacies are good-natured pranks aimed at a worthy cause, serving to shine a spotlight on issues of varying importance. In this case, however, Count Binface is polling favourably; in short, he could win; and if he does, he’ll be giving Farage a run for his money in an election that is, in itself, a farce: Farage was already the MP for the constituency of Clacton, but after being accused of receiving illegal funding, he resigned only to stand again immediately afterwards – in short, a farce designed solely to distract public attention from the investigations into him. Given the farcical nature of this by-election, no representative from any other political party has (quite rightly) been willing to play along with Farage’s game; the only person to stand against him was Count Binface, who, through his satirical candidacy (soon backed by everyone, from Labour to the Conservatives), has exposed the lack of seriousness of his opponent and the way populists exploit the ballot.

Why is this candidacy different, for example, from Grillo’s Five Star Movement? Just look at the manifesto: where Grillo proposed direct democracy, Count Binface proposes the nationalisation of Adele (yes, the singer); where the Five Star Movement proposed abolishing public funding, Count Binface promises to build ‘at least one affordable home’... In short, whilst Grillo asked to be taken seriously, Count Binface remains a comedian and puts forward an election manifesto that’s a laugh. Count Binface has realised that in public discourse, satire always and only plays the ‘pars destruens’ (which is, in any case, necessary to make way for the ‘pars construens’, which, however, is not satirical); unlike parody, which is always a celebration, satire is never pro-something (otherwise it would be propaganda); satire is always and only against something, which is why it is ‘Marxist’ – in the sense of Groucho, who in fact sang the programmatic song ‘Whatever It Is, I’m Against It’ in the film Horse Feathers (1932) (“Whatever it is, I’m against it”). Should Count Binface ever win the election, he would obviously have to cast aside his mask/clown’s costume afterwards and seriously consider what needs to be done; but by that point, he would already have done his job, and done it well: he would have defeated Nigel Farage with the weapons of satire, turning his own farce against him. Once again, British humour has something to teach us: never take yourself too seriously, never let personal vanity get the better of you, and always and only serve the Muse of satire. God Save Count Binface!