Show Hide image

The NS Interview: Russell Howard

“If a comedian’s naughty joke is on the front page, there’s no news”

If you didn't have to do Russell Howard's Good News, would you read newspapers?
No. When you constantly read something like the Daily Mail . . . you get this baffling, misplaced version of the country where everyone is just whingeing about things that don't really matter. I think a lot of papers misrepresent us.

Do you feel angry about that?
For me, it isn't so much the Mail and the Express, it's the message boards that get me. Like when Paul and Rachel Chandler were released [after being held hostage by Somali pirates for longer than a year], a woman wrote: "Ooh, she's got a nice haircut for someone who's 'apparently' been away for a year." You look at something like that and you're not better for having read it. It just leaves me utterly depressed.

Would you describe yourself as left-wing?
I guess so. I don't really have a political agenda, I just like things to be fair - I get angered by pomposity and privilege. I saw a bloke the other day in Tesco throw some money at a woman behind a checkout. It fucking killed me. I thought: "You prick. Just hand her the dosh." But he was picking on her.

How much do you police your jokes for potential offence?
The test I always like to do is: would I do that in front of the person? If I wouldn't, I won't say it. There was a story last year about a guy who had banned gay people from coming into his bakery and we did a whole load of jokes about that. I put forward the joke that any man who makes a living by pumping cream into buns is in no position to criticise the gay community. We're sort of tucked away on BBC3, really, and they let us get on with it.

How do you feel about the accusation that left-wingers dominate the BBC's comedy output?
There are some really firebrand left-wing satirists, but I'm sure there are some right-wing comics that are on telly. Do you think the BBC sits there ticking boxes? "He's a fan of Hitler? Get him in - we need to even it up." It's just whether you're funny or not.

Your family sounds incredibly relaxed. Do you think you would have been able to become a stand-up if it had been more strait-laced?
No, definitely not! I always found it strange, when I went round to other people's houses for tea and that, how strict their parents were. Because my mum and dad - they're wonderful, they're brilliant people, but they just don't give a shit.

Do they ever offer you comedy advice?
My dad occasionally will give me ideas and stuff like that, and I have to politely turn it down. My mum is unwittingly funny.

You live in Leamington Spa. Were you ever tempted to move to London and do the celebrity party circuit, eat at the Ivy?
I've been once - I really enjoyed it. But I think it should be wildly exciting, because if you lose that, you won't be a particularly good stand-up comedian. It would be stuff like: "Y'know in the Ivy when the service is ridiculously good and everything tastes great, what's up with that?" Or, "Y'know when your butler's really uppity in the morning? Would it kill him to chew gum? He stinks!" So I try and lead a normal life.

You worked with Frankie Boyle, who one day last year became public enemy number one. Does that worry you?
If the front-page news is a comedian doing a joke that people think is naughty, that proves there's no real news that day, does it not? The other day in the Sun, literally in the middle of Libya on its knees, the front page was: "How did this fox climb all the way up this 1,000ft tower?" I just find it odd.

Why don't you do adverts or corporate gigs?
I don't need that. It's just money, isn't it? Turning up to host the Stamp of the Year Awards or something like that, I'd fucking kill myself. It's just greed, really. I'm lucky; I only have to do things that I enjoy.

Do you vote?
I did. I don't want to come out either way, but I was absolutely fascinated by the election process last year. I watched with bated breath.

Is there anything you'd like to forget?
Loads of things. But probably best you don't - because you may do those things again.

Is there a plan?
Not really. I've got to do a few series of Good News, a tour and record a DVD. Obviously I have other plans, like I'm desperately going to try to convince my girlfriend to get another dog. I would like to say that the DVD and two TV shows were higher than the acquisition of another hound, but I don't know.

Are we all doomed?
We're all going to die, but we have one chance to live, so we might as well go for it. We are doomed, but crack open the bottle and let's have some fun.

Defining Moments

1980 Born in Bristol to David Howard and Ninette Veale. Eldest of three siblings
2004 Commissioned to write and perform for BBC Radio 1's The Milk Run series
2006 Begins two-year stint co-hosting The Russell Howard Show on BBC 6 Music
2006 Joins Mock the Week on BBC2, with Dara O Briain and Frankie Boyle
2009 First series of his stand-up show Russell Howard's Good News airs on BBC3. The fourth and fifth series go out this year

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

Getty
Show Hide image

The French millennials marching behind Marine Le Pen

A Front National rally attracts former socialists with manicured beards, and a lesbian couple. 

“In 85 days, Marine will be President of the French Republic!” The 150-strong crowd cheered at the sound of the words. On stage, the speaker, the vice-president of the far-right Front National (FN), Florian Philippot, continued: “We will be told that it’s the apocalypse, by the same banks, media, politicians, who were telling the British that Brexit would be an immediate catastrophe.

"Well, they voted, and it’s not! The British are much better off than we are!” The applause grew louder and louder. 

I was in the medieval city of Metz, in a municipal hall near the banks of the Moselle River, a tributary of the Rhine from which the region takes its name. The German border lies 49km east; Luxembourg City is less than an hour’s drive away. This is the "Country of the Three Borders", equidistant from Strasbourg and Frankfurt, and French, German and French again after various wars. Yet for all that local history is deeply rooted in the wider European history, votes for the Front National rank among the highest nationally, and continue to rise at every poll. 

In rural Moselle, “Marine”, as the Front National leader Marine Le Pen is known, has an envoy. In 2014, the well-spoken, elite-educated Philippot, 35, ran for mayor in Forbach, a former miner’s town near the border. He lost to the Socialist candidate but has visited regularly since. Enough for the locals to call him “Florian".

I grew up in a small town, Saint-Avold, halfway between Metz and Forbach. When my grandfather was working in the then-prosperous coal mines, the Moselle region attracted many foreign workers. Many of my fellow schoolmates bore Italian and Polish surnames. But the last mine closed in 2004, and now, some of the immigrants’ grandchildren are voting for the National Front.

Returning, I can't help but wonder: How did my generation, born with the Maastricht treaty, end up turning to the Eurosceptic, hard right FN?

“We’ve seen what the other political parties do – it’s always the same. We must try something else," said Candice Bertrand, 23, She might not be part of the group asking Philippot for selfies, but she had voted FN at every election, and her family agreed. “My mum was a Communist, then voted for [Nicolas] Sarkozy, and now she votes FN. She’s come a long way.”  The way, it seemed, was political distrust.

Minutes earlier, Philippot had pleaded with the audience to talk to their relatives and neighbours. Bertrand had brought her girlfriend, Lola, whom she was trying to convince to vote FN.  Lola wouldn’t give her surname – her strongly left-wing family would “certainly not” like to know she was there. She herself had never voted.

This infuriated Bertrand. “Women have fought for the right to vote!” she declared. Daily chats with Bertrand and her family had warmed up Lola to voting Le Pen in the first round, although not yet in the second. “I’m scared of a major change,” she confided, looking lost. “It’s a bit too extreme.” Both were too young to remember 2002, when a presidential victory for the then-Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, was only a few percentage points away.

Since then, under the leadership of his daughter, Marine, the FN has broken every record. But in this region, the FN’s success isn’t new. In 2002, when liberal France was shocked to see Le Pen reach the second round of the presidential election, the FN was already sailing in Moselle. Le Pen grabbed 23.7 per cent of the Moselle vote in the first round and 21.9 per cent in the second, compared to 16.9 per cent and 17.8 per cent nationally. 

The far-right vote in Moselle remained higher than the national average before skyrocketing in 2012. By then, the younger, softer-looking Marine had taken over the party. In that year, the FN won an astonishing 24.7 per cent of the Moselle vote, and 17.8 per cent nationwide.

For some people of my generation, the FN has already provided opportunities. With his manicured beard and chic suit, Emilien Noé still looks like the Young Socialist he was between 16 and 18 years old. But looks can be deceiving. “I have been disgusted by the internal politics at the Socialist Party, the lack of respect for the low-ranked campaigners," he told me. So instead, he stood as the FN’s youngest national candidate to become mayor in his village, Gosselming, in 2014. “I entered directly into action," he said. (He lost). Now, at just 21, Noé is the FN’s youth coordinator for Eastern France.

Metz, Creative Commons licence credit Morgaine

Next to him stood Kevin Pfeiffer, 27. He told me he used to believe in the Socialist ideal, too - in 2007, as a 17-year-old, he backed Ségolène Royal against Sarkozy. But he is now a FN local councillor and acts as the party's general co-ordinator in the region. Both Noé and Pfeiffer radiated a quiet self-confidence, the sort that such swift rises induces. They shared a deep respect for the young-achiever-in-chief: Philippot. “We’re young and we know we can have perspectives in this party without being a graduate of l’ENA,” said another activist, Olivier Musci, 24. (The elite school Ecole Nationale d’Administration, or ENA, is considered something of a mandatory finishing school for politicians. It counts Francois Hollande and Jacques Chirac among its alumni. Ironically, Philippot is one, too.)

“Florian” likes to say that the FN scores the highest among the young. “Today’s youth have not grown up in a left-right divide”, he told me when I asked why. “The big topics, for them, were Maastricht, 9/11, the Chinese competition, and now Brexit. They have grown up in a political world structured around two poles: globalism versus patriotism.” Notably, half his speech was dedicated to ridiculing the FN's most probably rival, the maverick centrist Emmanuel Macron. “It is a time of the nations. Macron is the opposite of that," Philippot declared. 

At the rally, the blue, red and white flame, the FN’s historic logo, was nowhere to be seen. Even the words “Front National” had deserted the posters, which were instead plastered with “in the name of the people” slogans beneath Marine’s name and large smile. But everyone wears a blue rose at the buttonhole. “It’s the synthesis between the left’s rose and the right’s blue colour”, Pfeiffer said. “The symbol of the impossible becoming possible.” So, neither left nor right? I ask, echoing Macron’s campaign appeal. “Or both left and right”, Pfeiffer answered with a grin.

This nationwide rebranding follows years of efforts to polish the party’s jackass image, forged by decades of xenophobic, racist and anti-Semitic declarations by Le Pen Sr. His daughter evicted him from the party in 2015.

Still, Le Pen’s main pledges revolve around the same issue her father obsessed over - immigration. The resources spent on "dealing with migrants" will, Le Pen promises, be redirected to address the concerns of "the French people". Unemployment, which has been hovering at 10 per cent for years, is very much one of them. Moselle's damaged job market is a booster for the FN - between 10 and 12 per cent of young people are unemployed.

Yet the two phenomena cannot always rationally be linked. The female FN supporters I met candidly admitted they drove from France to Luxembourg every day for work and, like many locals, often went shopping in Germany. Yet they hoped to see the candidate of “Frexit” enter the Elysee palace in May. “We've never had problems to work in Luxembourg. Why would that change?” asked Bertrand. (Le Pen's “144 campaign pledges” promise frontier workers “special measures” to cross the border once out of the Schengen area, which sounds very much like the concept of the Schengen area itself.)

Grégoire Laloux, 21, studied history at the University of Metz. He didn't believe in the European Union. “Countries have their own interests. There are people, but no European people,” he said. “Marine is different because she defends patriotism, sovereignty, French greatness and French history.” He compared Le Pen to Richelieu, the cardinal who made Louis XIV's absolute monarchy possible:  “She, too, wants to build a modern state.”

French populists are quick to link the country's current problems to immigration, and these FN supporters were no exception. “With 7m poor and unemployed, we can't accept all the world's misery,” Olivier Musci, 24, a grandchild of Polish and Italian immigrants, told me. “Those we welcome must serve the country and be proud to be here.”

Lola echoed this call for more assimilation. “At our shopping centre, everyone speaks Arabic now," she said. "People have spat on us, thrown pebbles at us because we're lesbians. But I'm in my country and I have the right to do what I want.” When I asked if the people who attacked them were migrants, she was not so sure. “Let's say, they weren't white.”

Trump promised to “Make America Great Again”. To where would Le Pen's France return? Would it be sovereign again? White again? French again? Ruled by absolutism again? She has blurred enough lines to seduce voters her father never could – the young, the gay, the left-wingers. At the end of his speech, under the rebranded banners, Philippot invited the audience to sing La Marseillaise with him. And in one voice they did: “To arms citizens! Form your battalions! March, march, let impure blood, water our furrows...” The song is the same as the one I knew growing up. But it seemed to me, this time, a more sinister tune.