WHO IS AFRAID OF JOHN MALKOVICH?

Their demand: to disrupt the scheduled opening night of a play by the Irish playwright, George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950), directed by US actor John Malkovich. Neither Shaw, nor Malkovich need any introduction to theatre-goers worldwide, but that was not enough for the angry Bulgarians in central Sofia. Encouraged by a motley crew including members of Revival, the pro-Putin extremist party that emerged third in the recent general election, anti-vaxers, opponents of the Istanbul Convention on the Protection of Women and Children, backers of the Russian-style Foreign Agents Bill, and Angel Dzhambazki, the EMP for the radical Bulgarian VMRO, or Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organisation, they demanded John Malkovich be immediately expelled from this country and Shaw's play banned.

The Bulgarian police stood idly by and did nothing to ensure ticketed theatre-goers gained access to the entrances. Eventually, they did not. The "show" was taking place in front of the house rather than in it.

But why would a bunch of extremists of the Revival and the VMRO type want to disrupt... a theatre performance? Notwithstanding the (remote) possibility that any of the angry Bulgarians in downtown Sofia had actually read George Bernard Shaw, they were given the go-ahead for their bout of lalochezia over what their instigators considered "offensive" for the Bulgarian nation.

Shaw's anti-war comedy, Arms and the Man, was first staged in 1894. It is set mostly in a Bulgarian town and takes its cue from the Serbo-Bulgarian War nine years previously. Arguably, it is not considered to be among Shaw's best plays, but has nevertheless gained notoriety as one of the would-be Nobel Prize winner's early commercial successes. After its first production at the Avenue Theatre in London's West End the author was called onto the stage and given enthusiastic applause. Among the cheers, however, one man booed. "My dear fellow, I quite agree with you, but what are we two against so many?", Shaw riposted.

What specifically irritated the protesting Bulgarians in Sofia were several references to the Bulgarian "national character," including the (in)famous salutation Bulgarians give to each other upon having taken a bath.

Arms and the Man, meant to be humorously exposing the futility of war and the hypocrisies of human nature, had already been staged in Bulgaria on several occasions, but never caused any nationalist outrage.

Notably, the Communist-era Union of Bulgarian Writers promulgated an open letter, calling for the play to be taken down.

Predictably, a flurry of commentaries pro and against Arms and the Man, Shaw and Malkovich were quick to appear on social media. Some slammed the actors in the play as "national traitors." Others accused the National Theatre's director of squandering public money for substandard performances. Some people who usually introduce themselves as

pro-Western intellectuals did not hesitate to dub the incident a Kristalnacht, after the 1938 Nazi pogrom against Jews in Berlin. Yet others were adamant that the organisers of the "protest" were agents of the Communist-era secret police, or State Security, which was disbanded as early as 1990, but which has now become the usual culprit for anything that the "pro-Western intellectuals" dislike.

One interesting comment came from Ivelin Mihaylov, the leader of Grandeur, the new political grouping that failed to enter the Bulgarian parliament by 22 (twenty-two) votes. Mihaylov, whose Historical Park operation in the Bulgarian northeast some media describe as a Ponzi scheme, told his audiences he, in principle, supported freedom of speech and the right of theatres to stage whatever they liked. However, he added that the Bulgarian intellectuals had failed, in the course of 35 years of post-Communist democracy, to "educate" and "enlighten" the general public so that theatre plays of the Arms and the Man stature caused no offence.

On the following day the interior minister reported his police force's handling of the incident was a "success."