Note-rigging scandal: Hugo Chavez gets on the mic. Photograph: Felix Clay
As President of Venezuela, Hugo Chavez is one of the most influential politicians in the world. His Bolivarian revolution is spreading throughout Latin America. He is swimming in petro-bucks. He is one of the only people in the world who can get Fidel Castro on the phone.
But it's not enough. No. What Chavez really wants to do is sing, sing, sing. And so, he is releasing an album of traditional Venezuelan folk songs, on which he shows off his pipes. It will soon be distributed free across the country. (This is where Radiohead got the idea, we hear.) In this, he follows in the illustrious, ever-changing footsteps of Imelda Marcos, who once recorded an album of her husband's favourite love songs.
But does Chavez have what it takes to wow the Simon Cowells of the world? Take a listen to one of his performances from his weekly telvision show to the nation and you'll find that he actually does have quite a pretty voice. I prefer his spoken-word output, however, and do hope his sound poem You Are a Donkey, Mr Danger appears on the album.
Speaking of donkeys, Chavez's new release raises the following question: Is it possible for a politician to sing in public these days without looking like an ass? History suggests that - with the possible exception of warbling Happy Birthday (see Barack Obama) or the the national anthem (see Hillary "Tuneless" Clinton) - the answer is no. It is perfectly all right for a politician to play an instrument, say a mean sax, but that is as far as the voting public will indulge any musical moonlighting.
Britain may be the home of Simon Fuller, but it was Americans - inventors of the Broadway musical - who have mastered the ability to look foolish through song. Many people around the world thought Karl Rove was evil, but it took his performance as "MC Rove" to make them also think that he was a moron. His rapping and the dance that went with it are directly responsible for the recent crumbling of the hard-built Republican coalition of so-cons, neo-cons, emoti-cons and decepti-cons.
Likewise the public first suspected that former Attorney General John Ashcroft lived in his own little world when he sang his self-penned paean to his country, Let the Eagle Soar, a fact that was later confirmed by his resignation letter, which stated: " The objective of securing the safety of Americans from crime and terror has been achieved." Speaking of the deluded, Dennis Kucinich not only still believes he can beat Hillary and Obama to lead the Democrats into the next election, he also believes he can sing Sixteen Tons and not lose all (his little remaining) credibility.
Yes, the only time you can get away with singing as a politician in the modern times in the States is when you do it as a joke - see Colin Powell dressed up Village People-style for a parody of YMCA and John McCain singing Barbra Streisand - or if you do it with a choir of 40 Jewish and 40 Arab children, or if you are a Kennedy and you do it in Spanish.
Here in the UK, politicians are not immune from the bug - and it is often manifests itself at the most inappropriate times. Tony Blair nearly got Dr David Kelly's death out of the news in 2003 by getting Cherie to sing the Beatles' When I'm 64. A bad choice from the Beatles oeuvre, though, as Kelly left this world five years before he would have found out what 64 looked like. Still, this moment is beaten in insensitivity by Peter Brooke, while Northern Ireland secretary in 1992, sang Clementine on a television talk show just hours after an IRA bomb killed eight people. Oh my, darling, indeed.
Showing how in touch they are with the kids today, today's Tories like to use Gilbert and Sullivan to skewer their opponents. Virginia Bottomley changed the lyrics of When I Was a Lad from HMS Pinafore to attack Tony Blair, while Peter Lilley changed the lyrics of The List Song from the Mikado to go after benefit cheats.
There are so many other great moments in politics and singing: Labour premier James Callaghan serenading at the Durham Miners' Gala, Neil Kinnock letting loose at the National Farmers' Union conference in 1990, Bush's stirring rendition of Sunday Bloody Sunday. (Alas, that last one is fictional.) Who is your (least) favourite singing politician?
