Hulk Hogan, arguably the world’s most famous professional wrestler and showman simp for American imperial power, died earlier this month. A fixture on our TV screens, his larger-than-life persona encapsulated the decaying rot at the heart of American political and social culture. He was MAGA before there was such a term.
There is no doubt that Hogan (his real name was Terry Gene Bollea) was an expert at self-promotion. His talent for turning his individual persona into a marketing brand is exemplary – if you are interested in egomaniacal hyper-competitive individualism. He had support in that area – his willingness to be used as a flag bearing American propaganda tool certainly helped him acquire publicity and media exposure.
For instance, Hogan fought the ‘Iron Sheikh’ in the ring, back in the 1980s. The villain, played by a former bodyguard to the deposed Shah of Iran, represented everything about Iran and the wider Middle East. You see, sheikhs, Arabs, Iranians, all mangled together in one simplistic easy-to-hate stereotype.
Hogan, the fake-tanned, steroid-muscled all American hero, was there to avenge the loss of Iran, avenge the Americans taken hostage in Lebanon, inflicting a heavy defeat on the oil-wealthy Arab sheikhs (never matter than Iranians are Persians and not Arabs) – Hogan’s tree-trunk sized arms did all the talking.
The Iron Sheikh had a signature move very cleverly named the ‘camel clutch.’ See, isn’t that hilarious – Middle Eastern people and camels, do you get it? That move, though proving to be a winner for the Sheikh against lesser opponents, was not enough to stop our hero. Escaping from that vice-like grip, Hogan triumphantly smashed the Iron Sheikh, claiming victory. Let’s not focus on the fact that WWE wrestling is all rehearsed beforehand and scripted.
The crowd chanted ‘USA! USA!’ repeatedly, the villainous Iranian/Arab sheikh was vanquished, and everything was right with the world again.
I never hated Hulk Hogan, even though I was familiar with what he stood for. Hating him would have conferred a certain type of legitimation. Hating him would have meant paying attention to him. Ignoring him was a way of demonstrating that he was beneath contempt.
Over the years, and after his appearance in the Rocky III movie, we got to know the fraudulent and cowardly personality beneath the hype. His racist rants, his scabbing behaviour informing on his wrestling friends when the latter tried to form a union, accusations of domestic violence against him – the carefully staged-managed persona was starting to wear thin.
Carl Beijer, writing in Jacobin magazine, elaborates on the self-absorbed careerist who successfully hid the dark side of his character from the public. A pop culture icon, he did not elevate wrestling from a backwater sport to a national level for love of the game. He did it for his first and only true love – himself.
Later in life, he claimed to have found Jesus, supporting evangelical Christians, and graduated to his last public act – the shouting, shirt-tearing endorsement of the MAGA cult at the 2024 Republican National Convention. Bizarrely, he actually struggled to rip off his shirt. The MAGA cesspit was his true home, reinforcing and celebrating his hyper-competitive individualism as a virtue.
Let me tell you about an incredibly strong, successful athletic weightlifter – Yurik Vardanyan (1956 – 2018). An athlete of small stature, his career as a weightlifter is extraordinary. Competing for his native Soviet Armenia as part of the USSR’s Olympic weightlifting team, he broke records and won gold medals. If anyone wants evidence of his remarkable strength, just take a look at his training regimen. He was able, with a single bound from a standing position, jump over the gymnast vaulting horse multiple times unassisted.
He was the first weightlifter in his category (82.5 kilos) to achieve a cumulative 400 kilogram lift. Awarded the Order of Lenin in 1985, he remained loyal to his nation throughout the difficult times of the Soviet dissolution and accompanying humanitarian chaos of the early 1990s.
He never sought glory or riches for himself, at the expense of his fellow citizens. Passing away in 2018, his funeral was an occasion for sadness, and also respect for his outstanding accomplishments in sport. There was no fanfare, no marketing or branding, no self-promotion during his career. Just a genuine and talented sportsperson dedicated to his chosen sport and his country.
His life is the lesson from which we should be learning.