Politics, Wrestling & Kayfabe

Although I am not a wrestling fan, there is one element of wrestling I appreciate. Kayfabe. Kayfabe "is the accepted substitution of reality and willing suspension of disbelief that allows fans to buy into often fictionalized storylines, larger-than-life personalities and match results." Kayfabe turned wrestling from a sport, into entertainment and, as a result, maintaining the illusion is integral to the survival and operation of modern wrestling. But sustaining the artifice does not mean obscuring its' existence. Nor should we confuse a dogged commitment to the stories told (kayfabe) with a stringent belief in those stories. Instead, kayfabe is the act of storytelling; an act of co-creation led by wrestling professionals and powered by the wrestling fans who spread, respond to and, ultimately, sustain these stories. It is the storytelling that fans and professionals are dedicated to. The narratives of good vs evil and David v Goliath. Tales of succession and family feuds. Stories of growth and regression. 

Now, if I don't particularly care about wrestling, why am I so intrigued by kayfabe? 

As a storyteller, I am interested in the kind of storytelling kayfabe represents because it is so fake. We know what we're watching isn't real; that none of it is real. Not the message it aims to send. Nor the competition the match represents. Not even the wrestlers themselves. Everything is a commodity, packaged for entertainment and profit. As a result, even when kayfabe is broken and the reality of the situation emerges, the stakes are incredibly low because we already knew that. We are more mad at the destruction of the illusion than at the existence of that illusion itself. Yet, when kayfabe exists in other areas of life (in particular politics), this central principle is forgotten. And our suspension of disbelief flips. Where, in wrestling, this suspension works to sustain the illusion, in politics, our suspension of disbelief prevents a nuanced truth from emerging. 

And this is because we are told that the spectacle before us is reality. As William P Stodden & John S Hassen note: "The problem with the political Kayfabe is that most of those who make up the audience actually believe that what they are seeing before them is real, in the sense of treating political campaigns like “shoot” matches, and this, in turn, guides their reactions to events" (p.5.) This makes it difficult to view the political stage more complexly and with nuance; prerequisites for the conversations.  This makes a certain amount of sense, given that several things; (1) this artifice is a byproduct of how we have chosen to do our politics and; (2) the real-life consequences of political (in)action. Stodden and Hassen go into further greater depth than I am willing to at this moment but, in essence, when you have a political system built upon the wills and desires of the masses, then finding a way to tap into and co-opt these needs are how you get power. Storytelling is an excellent way to achieve this goal because human beings love stories. And because these stories involve us, and the stakes are so high, we are invested in maintaining them. As Stodden and Hassen conclude:

Thus, political Kayfabe represents political reality—as real as anything-- for the vast majority of the interested population. Meanwhile, the mundane process of actually crafting and enacting public policy is not nearly so interesting, nor does it actually require the input of the public at all. Not surprisingly, despite all the drama and polarization reported on by the political press and repeated back to reporters and pollsters by endless streams of frustrated and angry citizens, the government still functions, it still pays its bills, citizens still receive their social security checks on time, politicians still receive their paychecks, and the military still operates on dozens of bases overseas-- as if nothing that happens in the political spectacle actually matters one bit when it comes to passing and executing policy at home and abroad. 

This last point is particularly salient and brings me back to Kenyan politics. Because our political theatre does not stop the business of government. Raila's demonstrations have not brought down the cost of living. They have merely succeeded in maintaining his relevancy and his brand as a thorn in the Establishment. The fact that Ruto surrounds himself with hustlers and the downtrodden in our society, will not encourage him to enact measures that protect them from further predation. The fact that this is a self-proclaimed "Hustler Government" will neither stop its' Members of Parliament from seeking pay rises nor prevent its Civil Servants from insisting upon extravagant luxuries; both at the taxpayers' expense. 

And yet, political kayfabe will demand they insist otherwise. The need to maintain the illusion in the quest for power will motivate them to convince us to deny the reality around us. Not just politicians, but the people, the 4th Estate and everyone involved in the business of government. Remember that kayfabe is an act of co-construction. For it to work, we must all want it to work. And while it is clear how our leaders and news establishments benefit from political kayfabe and the spectacle that ensues, how do we, the people, benefit? Because kayfabe allows us to feel like we are making policy, should we allow it to continue as it has been? Or should we move on? 

Should we allow our government to function like a wrestling ring? Are we not tired of being fed mere stories?