“Keep America Great”: Wrestling with the Coronavirus

“With the lines between wrestling and politics decidedly blurred, we can neither take comfort in the guile of our leaders nor the well-meaning distraction of wrestling.”

Few have made much of the way that pro wrestling has mimicked politics. This connection is no truer than in the United States, where the World Wrestling Entertainment’s (WWE) plots and character creations regularly echo America’s international relations—a parallel that has been particularly evident during times of national crises such as war. As a ploy to both evoke and provoke xenophobic feelings, WWE has often cast Iranians or Russians as their top heel or bad guy. In the 1980’s, there was the tag team of the Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff. The 1990’s saw Sgt. Slaughter become an Iraqi sympathizer. And, the 2000’s entertained an ill-judged terrorist story involving a wrestler called Muhammad Hassan, whose career suffered badly as a result. To further establish this pro-nationalist stance, these “foreign invaders” are often vanquished by all-American heroes such as Hulk Hogan or John Cena, the latter even announcing the death of Osama bin Laden during a live show.

Unlike any other form of entertainment, wrestling has an uncanny ability to exploit global affairs for commercial gains. However, when faced with a global pandemic where the enemy is literally affecting every person on the planet, does wrestling follow the lead of its sporting peers, yielding until given the all-clear? Or, does it carry on fighting regardless, even if fans cannot attend their shows? In a bizarre twist of fate, it has managed to do both and neither (reflecting President Donald Trump’s conflicting response to the Covid-19 outbreak) without actually mentioning the virus at all.

As wrestling has no overall governing body akin to soccer’s FIFA, the guidance on how wrestling should navigate a pandemic, which requires social distancing without it being mandated by law, has left the industry in an ambiguous hinterland. At a grassroots level, independent wrestling has temporarily ceased, putting the long-term future of some companies in doubt. In Japan, the second biggest market for wrestling outside the U.S., the restrictions have ultimately meant many promotions had to follow suit, excluding fans from their shows or canceling them altogether. Conversely, WWE, which has enough financial security to close down for a few months, has—against all guidance and logic—continued to produce “just-for-television” shows out of a blind sense of commitment to its audience.