POLITICIANS all over the world seldom resort to humour to put their point across. Particularly, in the Third World countries, politicians with a good sense of humour are really hard to find. In our culture, seriousness and sobriety are seen as signs of maturity and if someone cracks the most harmless of jokes, it is taken as a sign of carefree attitude. Not many people realize that having a good sense of humour hints at the fact that the person has a healthy mind. But in our society, it is not so.
Humour is a fine form of wit. It brings refinement in the creative process and helps a person grow aesthetically. It has always played its vital role in the constant advancement of civilization. Someone once said, “I laugh, therefore I survive.”
Self-deprecating humour is the ability to laugh at yourself. This makes humour a tad more funny. However, it requires more circumspection because once you cross the line, humour can border on to the ridiculous domain.
Genuine humour works like a precision-guided weapon; a gun aimed at yourself, but the target lies somewhere else.
Self-effacing wit has been, over a period of time, a favourite weapon of US presidents. Many people believe it is a weapon of mass distraction, because jokes are often intended to conceal rather than unearth the truth. A sense of proportion reveals itself through humorous self-deprecation, sending the message that leaders have the quality to analyze themselves. Self-mockery cracks the cocoon of reticence in a personality, while, at the same time, it defrosts the ice-cold relations with others.
Humour is also counted as a unique form of humility, and sometimes can be seen as something that leads to tolerance. The US has formally institutionalized this fun-loving tradition. In spring, a “silly season” is celebrated in the Capitol Hill, when people demonstrate their FQ (Fun Quotient).
Self-deprecating humour is not something new to the American political culture; its spirit dates back to the time when Abraham Lincoln was alive. When once he was charged with being hypocritically two-faced, Lincoln responded: “If I were tow-faced, why would I have chosen this one?”
On the eve of the presidential election, Ronald Reagan torpedoed a move of the rival camp, trying to hype up the issue of his mental fitness and advanced years. His retort stunned the opponents: “I am not going to exploit for political advantage my opponent’s youth and experience.” It turned the audience’s attention towards Reagan. Subsequently, the issue was thrown out of the campaign window.
During his White House years, Reagan used to have short working hours. Again, his detractors indulged in trivialization, urging him to spend more time at work. The demand provoked a wisecracking assertion. “I’ve been working long hours. I’ve really been burning the midday oil,” Reagan quipped. That silenced his critics.
Bill Clinton also drew a punch-line or two to keep his opponents at bay. The White Water affair impelled his critics to probe his alleged financial mishaps. He wished those persons who spent more time with his taxes than their own “Many happy returns”.
Recently, George W. Bush thought that his Democratic presidential challenger, John Kerry, might launch an attack against his policies and said: “If John Kerry could find a third side, I imagine he would take on too.”
Mr Kerry, being unable to attend a gathering in Washington, meaningfully excused his absence, speaking by satellite from Boston, hours before going to a hospital for surgery on his right shoulder. “I’m sorry, I can’t be with you today, I’m about to go in for some minor surgery on my shoulder.” Then he quipped: “Seems like I’m having some problems with the right wing these days.”
Our humour deficient society gives little space for this precious trait of mind. In our political arena, in particular, there is a serious void, not less than the one which Reagan dismissed during his tenure by saying, “I am not worried about the deficit. It is big enough to take care of itself.” But our political humour has not yet matured, where it can make even a minimum impact.
