Oh dear, it’s all looking a bit glum for Zack Polanski. A string of headlines about both him and his party has been less than flattering. It’s beginning to twig in some quarters that the Greens aren’t just a cuddly group who want to make sure that nature gets a fair hearing – sort of like the National Trust, but less left-wing. Rather, they appear to be a much more extreme political force.
There can be no doubt that Mr Polanski has been transformative for the Greens – it is under his leadership that they have metamorphosed from run-of-the-mill lentil-botherers into a sort of Home Counties Hezbollah. Marrying Maoism to the Mullahs ought not to work electorally, but hey, it’s 21st-century Britain, so nothing ought to surprise us. However, what does seem to surprise Mr Polanski is that his new-found polling success unfortunately means he actually has to face scrutiny.
Robinson succeeded in baiting out the real Polanski; scratchy, irritable and out of his depth
A slot on the Today programme beckoned, and a grilling from Nick Robinson, who began with the claim of Polanski’s that he was a spokesman for the Red Cross. Like much of what he has stated about his past, this has transpired to be false. It turns out that he actually just spoke to people about the Red Cross. Having had a conversation with my husband about butter yesterday, I’m pleased to announce that I am officially now a spokesperson for Lurpak.
Mr Polanski tried to spin his delusions of grandeur as a simple error which was being blown out of proportion by the real enemy; the media. Talking of things being blown out of proportion, Robinson alluded to some of Zack’s greatest hits – which of course included his sensational claim that he could give women breast enhancement via hypnosis. Mr Polanski mumbled that this was not just his fault, but also the fault of the Sun newspaper. To be fair to him, this is nowhere near the maddest conspiracy theory indulged by his party, big breasts being that organ’s quondam USP.
This allowed Mr Polanski to settle into his main defence which was that all criticism of him stems from a rabid and fearful right-wing media who are petrified that he might make good his promises on rent controls. This presents us with the amusing image of the editors of The Spectator, Times, Mail, Telegraph and Express ganging up together in a smoke-filled room to force an elderly Green councillor to say mad things about Jews online. ‘There’s no love lost between me and the right-wing press,’ he whined. Au contraire, Zack: a self-proclaimed titty engorger acting as a Pied Piper for the biggest loons in Britain is a sketch writer’s dream.
Unfortunately for Zack, Robinson had a list of his actual policies which sounded at least as cranky as any of his theories about the media. ‘Ending discrimination against Deliveroo drivers’ was a real doozy, as were legalising prostitution and drugs ‘to help cut crime’. As more policies were listed, it became increasingly clear why the legalisation of drugs is such a totem for the Greens: you’d need a healthy dose of skunk most mornings to even begin to take the party seriously.
Inevitably, Mr Polanski’s clashes with the police came up too. He seemed to stand by his criticism of the Met Police for kicking the man who stabbed Jews in the Golders Green attack – saying it had been distressing to see a handcuffed man subjected to police brutality. And so it might be, except the suspect wasn’t handcuffed, was waving a knife around and, crucially, had just stabbed two people. Again, such an easy mistake to make. Later on, the Greens issued a statement claiming he ‘misspoke’. Quite a lot of that going around it seems!
Robinson asked him about his actual plans for the police should a collective succession of catastrophic head injuries among the electorate see Mr Polanski anywhere near actual power. Apparently, funds would be put towards ‘community prevention’ to stop crime. Again, it was unclear what this meant – arming the Neighbourhood Watch? Gangs of vigilante WI Members roaming the countryside? (Although, this might actually be more effective than some police forces).
Robinson also pushed Polanski on why some would-be Green councillors were making a big deal about Palestine in their literature: ‘you’d think it’d be about bins,’ he said. It’s going to be hilarious when some of these people get elected and find that their intrays are bin laden, just not in the way they were hoping. The anti-Semitism problem was raised. In a stuttering and not very convincing reply an audibly tetchy Polanski accused Robinson of not letting him finish. An exasperated Robinson cried, ‘You can’t just say the words, ‘We’re an anti-racist party!’’’
Robinson succeeded in baiting out the real Zack Polanski; scratchy, irritable and out of his depth. Yet the Green defence is already out there in the open; people pointing out the failings of his party will inevitably be portrayed as not giving him a fair hearing or part of some conspiracy. It becomes very difficult to apply scrutiny to people so utterly convinced of the existence of a shadow world and so minimally cognisant of political reality. Indeed, mockery might be the closest anyone can get to engaging meaningfully with Mr Polanski. Fortunately, the material is abundant, ripe and seemingly renewable.
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