- by Jan Farmer
- The Guardian
- Issue #2157
Hulk Hogan, 2015. Photo: Miguel Discart – flickr.com (CC BY-SA 2.0)
I came to Hulk Hogan late, born too recently to see him in his 1980s pro-wrestling prime, but always saw him as the embodiment of pure media slop. In the pantomime that is professional wrestling, everyone has a part to play and everyone in the audience knows they’re playing a part, but enjoys going along with it anyway.
Some wrestlers are bad guys, others lovable rogues, some embody (often racist) ethnic stereotypes. Some are good guys. Hulk Hogan, real name Terry Gene Bollea was for most of his career, one of the good guys, an all-American heart-of-gold type.
But Hogan was a union buster. He grassed up his co-stars to the CEO during unionisation efforts, and is the main reason why to this day professional wrestling, a very dangerous and injury-prone profession, does not have a union. Wrestlers apparently have to sign a promise not to organise a union or join one. Hogan’s former friend, Jesse ‘the Body’ Ventura said of Hogan, “it doesn’t surprise me to see Hogan with the Republicans, because Hogan is as anti-union as it gets.”
Hogan finished on a sad note in many ways. He was recorded using racist expressions, accused of misogyny and homophobia, and sexual assault. One of his signature moves was ripping his t-shirt in public, being barely able to rip a cheap T-shirt with his deteriorating steroid muscles to reveal a MAGA shirt.
The MAGA-support was no coincidence. Trump always enjoyed pro-wrestling and appeared on it in his fake-tycooon days (which have never really ended). Trumpism and pro-wrestling US style have a lot in common: everyone knows it’s fake, but supporters enjoy it. Just as the widespread knowledge that pro-wrestling is scripted entertainment rather than a sport doesn’t worry fans, the exposure of Trump’s thousands of lies doesn’t cost him any support in the MAGA movement. Both pro-wrestling and MAGA trade on a fake working-class persona: Trump was born a millionaire, but comes across as the embodiment of the ordinary man against the ‘elites.’ Press that cooperates with this ignores genuine working-class heroes like Chris Smalls, who unionised Amazon workplaces against the odds.
A line can also be drawn from Hulk-o-mania, the phenomenon of Hulk Hogan adoration that lead to thousands of action figures being sold (also Hogan’s appearance in child-friendly movies), to the ‘manosphere,’ the world of toxic masculinity promoted by crypto-fascists such as Andrew Tate, Joe Rogan, Elon Musk, and Jordan Peterson. Hogan’s fun, over-the-top macho persona was the vehicle for an unhealthy and dangerous mindset in men towards themselves and towards women. Hogan’s fans were encouraged to ‘train, say their prayers and take their vitamins,’ anticipating the simplistic advice that Petersen couches his far-right, misogynist act in. It sounded simple and useful, but came from a hyper-individualistic and consumerist vision of masculinity.
The appeal of Hogan and tv wrestling worked on an alienated population – people watching and identifying with impossible physical feats, rather than enjoying the real physical treats available in their communities. Real, non-alienated physical action is something socialists are working for.
So I don’t mourn Hulk Hogan, but rather paraphrase the German poet Jacobowski: don’t smile because it’s over! Cry because it has been.
