Ken Jones, Contributor

JONES

Las May's lampooning of the Prime Minister has drawn the tongues of her avid supporters, especially those who consider it vile and vulgar to portray her in the garb and posture of a virago.

Not having so thin a skin myself, I saw humour in the drawing, got its message and thought, as did a Shakespearean character in Hamlet: "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." I also tended to suspect that her friends were basing their complaint on the perception that the PM herself is wont to express: It is because she is a woman.

Frankly, I cannot understand what the fuss is all about. In this day and age, Prime Ministers, male or female, are fair game for lampooning, which is a legitimate and long practised art intentionally designed to ridicule those who wield power in the society; and also to remind the ruling classes that they, too, are mortals and not immune to the slings and arrows of an outraged public.

Any reasonable person must acknowledge that severely critical and merciless as the cartoon may have been, it was the Prime Minister who brought it upon herself by giving a flippant and facetious reply to serious questions about her use of public funds. It is widely believed that her speeches and modus operandi since being installed indicate a need for lessons in prime ministerial behaviour.

Some have whispered it, the opinion polls show signs of it; and Mr. May seems moved to use his lampooner's licence to emphasise the point. He should be commended for his skill and courage.

There is nothing wrong or unusual about caricatures that exaggerate the dress styles of the high and mighty. It is just that some people are unaccustomed to seeing the art applied to their friends and acquaintances.

I have seen President Bush portrayed as a gorilla; and the Mighty Sparrow was lampooning when he wrote and sang of an incident in Queen Elizabeth's bedroom. I never heard Her Majesty's guardians calling for an apology, and in fact the popular calypso rose to the top of the charts.

Well dressed

We all have seen Mr. Seaga, time and time again, caricatured as a don, wearing heavy chain, bell and unlaced sneakers. I never heard him or his supporters complain, even though he is customarily well dressed. Mr. Patterson, too, maintained his 'cool' all the time that he was cartooned bearing a crooked rod and dressed in long gown and open-toed sandals. What then can be the cause for this weeping, gnashing of teeth and moving of resolutions for a newspaper apology? Is it because the Prime Minister is a woman?

The president of the Press Association of Jamaica says it is an assault on womanhood. This statement makes it appear that he does not take the broader view that female politicians claiming equal rights must be prepared to accept equal treatment in the rough and tumble of the political arena. As one defender of press freedom has said, "If the political kings have bled for years at the cartoonists' hands why should the emergent queens be granted special immunity?"

People outside of the journalistic profession may be excused for describing Mr. May's work as vulgar.

However, seasoned newspaper persons should recognise, accept and understand the use of the caricature as a form of social commentary. The practice, which dates back to the 18th century, is defined by Encyclopaedia Britannica as "Comically distorted drawing or likeness intended to satirise or ridicule its subject."

In 1880 newspapers began printing them, much to the delight of readers; and in this more liberal age they are everyday features wherever freedom of expression is allowed.

So, let's get on with our lives. Some observers and women libbers may rant and rave for a while. The Gleaner may or may not agree to assuage their wounded pride, but I suspect that it won't be long before something more scandalous or more amusing than sketches and cartoons will come along to engage our attention.