It is fascinating to see the male form become an ideological weapon once again, all over the world
THE RUSSIANS obviously cannot get enough of their prime minister. They warmly welcome any chance to see him semi-naked, as the steppes resound to the thundering gallop of Irish people fleeing in the opposite direction.
We don’t want to see any politicians naked, thanks – except perhaps a couple of Signor Berlusconi’s more imaginative appointments.
No, in Ireland we prefer to believe that our politicians don’t have bodies at all, and recently our politicians have been trying to sustain this illusion themselves. For some time now they have been working at becoming invisible, even as we have been collecting the hotel bills and the limousine rentals which imply that our public representatives have physical needs or at least desires which we, naturally, have to pay for.
But they don’t feel the need to strip to the waist and do the butterfly stroke, though, do they? On the contrary, our lot like to wrap themselves in a badly tailored jacket and do nothing, preferably unobserved.
In this, as in so many things, our lot are very different from Vladimir Putin, photographed last week as he holidayed in deepest Siberia. He was riding a horse, climbing trees and fishing as well as swimming. Altogether Putin’s activities sound a bit like the old Tampax advertisement in which a lucky customer could suddenly ride, swim and play tennis. Although Putin probably doesn’t see it that way.
Vladimir Putin is 57 years old and very fit – a judo black belt, an accomplished skier and a devotee of the gym; his career started in the KGB, after all. As the old ideologies blurred Putin settled for muscle definition, of which he’s got plenty.
He takes all of this image-making extraordinarily seriously, posing wearing an Indiana Jones hat and a pair of reflector shades. His only clothing in these shots, which were distributed all over Russia and indeed, it seems, the world, consists of a pair of army fatigues and some boots. Like many exercises in machismo, it is as gay as all get out.
It is political porn really, isn’t it? What a fascinating shoot that must have been, photographing Putin in the wild. Photographing him feeding his horse, looking soulful and perhaps a little bit caring. Photographing him with his chest and arms rising out of the water. “Do my arms look big in this ?” “Oh, yes Prime Minister.” “Well, send that one back to Moscow then.”
Putin seems unembarrassable, and his sincerity is rather frightening. When he is photographed sitting in a tree wearing his Indiana Jones hat he looks like a cowboy, of all things. He could be the brother of George W Bush, another man who went out of his way to be seen to be the strong, outdoorsy kind of guy.
We may have thought that political porn vanished with the old dictatorships but in fact it is on its way back, which is worrying in itself. If Putin’s pin-up show says one thing it is “I haven’t gone away, you know” – in Russian.
I think the resurgence in political porn can be traced directly to Silvio Berlusconi’s hair transplant in August 2004. When the Italian prime minister greeted Tony and Cheri Blair wearing a post-operative bandana on his head, it was from that moment that, internationally, the bodies of male politicians moved centre of the political stage, even as we in this country clung to the gansey. Other countries do not share our sense of shame. Their male politicians are mad to get their kit off, and then tell us about it.
Look at Barack Obama, boring everyone to death about his treadmill routine, shooting hoops with his security men and then slaughtering flies live on national television. Of course Barack Obama is tall. Vladimir Putin is not tall and nor is Nikolas Sarkozy, who went the way of Jimmy Carter and collapsed while jogging, poor thing. Look at George W, when he was in office as fit as a flea – physically. And Tony Blair the same. Even Kim Jong-il, when he was in better health, has been a Dear Leader in elevator shoes.
Russian women, we are told, fancy Vladimir Putin something rotten, although I cannot see this myself.
Traditonal images of male strength are still very popular in Russia – and it is no coincidence that the flexible President Medvedev, the younger successor whom Putin himself promoted, is said to favour yoga. It’s not quite the same is it, as riding horses, climbing trees, fishing and doing the butterfly? To see Vladimir Putin all buffed up to an aggressive shine is to see a worrying future, and this is what Vladimir wants us to do, when we are actually looking at photographs of a short, baldy guy on his holidays.
It is fascinating to see the male form become an ideological weapon once again, all over the world. Only the draped bodies of the Muslim and Arab leaders, and of course the layered appeal of the Irish politicians, are left out of this old game.
Perhaps the fitness boys represent power and all its dangers, just as the fully clothed boys represent corruption and all its miseries. Whatever the truth of the matter, it won’t be long before the first calendar arrives, and Putin is a pin-up in every sense of the term.