Harry Enfield claims cultural imperialism is to blame for the furious backlash sparked by his decision to wear black make-up and portray cultural icon Nelson Mandela as a crack dealer.
The comedian reflected on the controversy surrounding his 2007 portrayal of the late South African leader in Harry & Paul, which was ultimately condemned for racism, during an appearance on The Third Act podcast.
Enfield, 64, argued that the ensuing outrage reflected imported sensitivities from America rather than typical British attitudes.
He said: ‘I did get in trouble a bit for doing Nelson Mandela. What’s that called, black voicing now?
‘Anyway, we used to be what was called blacked up, but cultural imperialism has taken the phrase ‘blackface’ from America, where there is a very different culture.’
The sketch, which aired on BBC One, saw Harry’s version of Mandela advertising heroin and crack cocaine – a joke, he now says, that was intended to satirise the narrow range of roles available to black actors on British television at the time.
Harry Enfield claims cultural imperialism is to blame for the backlash sparked by his decision to wear black make-up and portray Nelson Mandela as a drug dealer in a controversial sketch
Enfield argued that the ensuing outrage reflected imported sensitivities from America rather than typical British attitudes
He said: ‘What made me do it was David Harewood, the actor, who’d done an interview saying he had to go and work in America, because over here, he could just play robbers, muggers, and bad people.
‘Those were the only parts he was ever up for in Britain, because of the colour of his skin. So he went to America, and then he could play other human beings.
‘I thought, well, Nelson Mandela is the only person in the world that is sort of universally loved. And I thought, that’s funny – the idea of Nelson Mandela, if he’s on the BBC, he has to be a mugger or a robber or a drug dealer.
‘So I had him say, ‘Do you like crack? Do you like smack? Then you will love my smack and crack party bag. You can steal your mother’s jewellery to pay for it.”
He added: ‘It seemed to me so absurd no one would possibly take offence and think, why are you doing it?
‘But the only thing that really offended them wasn’t that it was that, but it was me doing it – and not someone with a different coloured skin. I get it now. I wouldn’t do it now, but it’s a shame.’
Harry’s remarks come five years after he defended the sketch on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme, where he said portraying Mandela as a drug dealer was ‘so wrong that it was right.’
He argued then that there was a difference between his comedy and the overtly racist caricatures of earlier eras, such as the Chocolate Coloured Coon character of the 1930s – a term that prompted an on-air apology from host Nick Robinson.
Enfield’s previous characters include Stavros, a Greek kebab shop owner (pictured)
He famously played Loadsamoney, a foul-mouthed, belligerent and money obsessed plasterer, created in response to former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s policies (pictured in 1988)
At the time, comedian Ava Vidal, who appeared alongside him on Today, said blackface ‘normalises dehumanisation’ and challenged Harry for reinforcing stereotypes rather than satirising them.
The discussion took place during the 2020 wave of Black Lives Matter protests, when several shows featuring blackface sketches – including Little Britain and The Mighty Boosh – were removed from streaming platforms, and comedians such as Ant and Dec and Leigh Francis issued public apologies.
In the podcast episode released last week, Harry elaborated on his distaste for imported American culture and language to the UK.
He said: ‘All these phrases, one of them is the ‘lived experience’ – ‘Well, my lived experience teaches me this…’, which is actually someone’s opinion. But you’re supposed to go, ‘oh yes, your lived experience.’ It’s very, very American.’
Enfield chose to satirise Mandela after reading comments made by black actor David Harewood, who claimed he moved to America for better roles because in Britain he could only play criminals (Harewood is pictured in US show Homeland)
‘I thought, well, Nelson Mandela is the only person in the world that is sort of universally loved. And I thought, that’s funny – the idea of Nelson Mandela, if he’s on the BBC, he has to be a mugger or a robber or a drug dealer’
He also took aim at what he sees as a climate of excessive caution in comedy.
‘There are things you could say now that you can’t say,’ he added. ‘And it should be: why can’t you say it? If there’s a good reason not to say something, you shouldn’t say it, but if it’s not malicious, you should be allowed to.
‘Also, everybody says, ‘It offends me.’ Yeah, but you might have no sense of humour.
‘I think mischief is okay, and malice I don’t really like. There are lots of malicious comics out there, but they tend to be lefty: toe the line, and they’re nasty about everyone. I’m a lefty.
‘But I think they just preach to other lefties who are exactly like them. So it’s just a mutual congratulations club. And I’m not interested in that. I mean, good luck to them, but it doesn’t interest me.’
He added: ‘Everyone has different tastes in music and different tastes in drama and things. And I think there’s something about comedy, which I realised very early on… if you watch a drama on television and you don’t like it, you say, oh it’s a bit boring.
‘But if you watch someone being funny on television and you can see them performing to the audience and they’re cocky and you don’t find them funny, you think they’re arrogant.
‘That’s what people think. They just say, oh, what’s so funny about him? They get cross about it. Or a sitcom that’s not funny.
‘People get cross in a way that they don’t with drama because they think there’s an arrogance in the writer or the performer to think they’re funny, whereas actually they just have a different taste of comedy.’
Enfield as Kevin the Teenager, another of his iconic characters, in 2000 film Kevin And Perry Go Large
On the podcast, Harry also reflected on the creative freedom he enjoyed during the height of his career in the 1990s, when he made Harry Enfield and Chums for the BBC under then-controller Alan Yentob.
‘He was like the curator of an art museum,’ Harry recalled. ‘So he’d say, ‘I want this, Harry, will you make me a show?’ So you then produced your show and he didn’t interfere, and no one from the BBC interfered.
‘And then you gave them your show. Whereas, when it became people saying, ‘Would you do us a show and here are all our thoughts about it,’ I thought, I can’t be bothered anymore.’
Now largely retired from television, Harry admitted he has little appetite to return to the fray.
‘What’s so nice is not feeling you have to be driven,’ he said. ‘I remember once someone saying success is 10% talent and 90% drive. And I thought, yes, that’s definitely the case.
‘As soon as my drive went, and I was no longer doing anything – it wasn’t that I wasn’t funny anymore – I just wasn’t particularly interested in fighting for it and pitching.’
He added: ‘Comedy’s all about taste,’ he said. ‘Everyone has different tastes in music and drama and things.
‘But with comedy, if you don’t find someone funny, you think they’re arrogant. People get cross about it. But actually, it’s just different taste.’