Quick on the draw

Barack Obama caricature for World Section. Illustrator / Rod Emmerson

What makes a great political cartoon? Herald award-winner Rod Emmerson joined other top international cartoonists in San Francisco last month to share experiences — and learn that the job can be life-threatening. He reports from the front line

If there's one eccentricity that transcends all cultures, it must surely be satire. Barbed humour has mercilessly continued to evolve since we first learned to stand upright, point and laugh. But it's a double-edged sword - satire is mostly at someone's expense, so not everyone laughs.

Tiptoeing in and around defamation and teetering on the precipice that divides good and bad taste, while trying to inform and create debate, is not for the faint-hearted. This is the environment the editorial cartoonist must work in, and in many parts of the world, drafting a simple cartoon can be a very dangerous act.

Which brings me here: I'm standing outside the Marines' Memorial Hotel and Theatre in Sutter St, San Francisco. It's Fleet Week (when US Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard ships recently deployed in overseas operations dock in major cities for a week) and the hotel is a hive of uniformed and off-duty activity. A constant procession of black SUVs deliver and despatch personnel. Oblivious to them, on the first floor, there is a large, dysfunctional group of some of the world's leading political cartoonists beginning to mass.

Recalcitrants with pens. This is SatireFest - the name coined for the annual conference of the Association of American Editorial Cartoonists (AAEC). There are scribblers here from across the United States, Switzerland, Cuba, Egypt, India, Pakistan, Iran, Australia, New Zealand and Canada, all with one common thread - their craft.

On the sidewalk, I've bumped into Pakistan's Sabir Nazar. The conversation and light-hearted humour flow easily as we enjoy an unspoken irony. Deep in the DNA of all political cartoonists lies some very undisciplined and rebellious genes - ones that only a mother could love. Yet here we are mingling seamlessly with the highly disciplined and compliant US Marines. I couldn't resist a crooked smile as we walked in.

What is unique about this gathering is the genuine interest from the American cartoonists in bringing together their peers from around the world and celebrating this unusual craft. Unlike other annual cartoon events, there is no bleary-eyed awards night padded with a talkfest.

This is almost five days of showcasing the vast landscape that visual satirists have occupied and continue to explore. It includes traditional cartoonists, graphic journalism, foreign cartoonists working under enormous duress, cartoonists for the rock and punk industry, and those who have embraced social media and run with it. This is an art form that has been around long before newspapers. You need only to run a lazy eye over the end wall of the Sistine Chapel to realise that.

The driving force behind SatireFest is political animator and AAEC president Mark Fiore, and The Economist cartoonist Kevin 'Kal' Kallaugher. Baltimore-based Kal is known around the cartoon world for his respect and admiration for fellow scribes in far-off places. I first met him at the 1994 Reubens Awards in La Jolla, California, then in 1998 at the AAEC's conference in Las Vegas. His passion for political cartooning knows no bounds.

"There is no official school or graduate school for cartooning," he tells me. "Those of us in the profession learn the craft from our predecessors and contemporaries. I consider our professional gatherings as continuing education for all involved and I've particularly made it my mission to bring foreign stars Stateside. Though we all practise the same craft the challenges posed can often vary wildly according to country and culture. By sharing our stories and drawings we enlighten and inspire each other."

The programme is extensive and touches all bases connected to visual satire. One of the most intriguing presentations comes from the Cubans and Pakistan's Nazar. The vast body of work by Adan Toledo, Laz Ramirez and Alex Falco Chang stands without a single caption. Speaking through an interpreter, they explain how the immediate advantage is that it is understood in all languages and can be published internationally in any medium.

Trust me, it's one of the most arduous forms of cartooning. (You can see their work at www.cartoonmovement.com.)

For Sabir Nazar, juggling the politics of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan and the undercurrent of militant religious fever is a constant tightrope walk. This is the world's second largest Muslim country, the only Islamic nation to have nuclear power and, as we all know, where Bin Laden was discovered. Nazar, who was a political activist before he picked up the pen, tells a confronting tale of the 2007 military stand-off at Islamabad's Red Mosque. The mosque had been occupied by extreme militants hellbent on bringing the capital under Islamic law.

Hostages had been taken and numerous attempts made to bring about a peaceful resolution. The Musharraf-led military eventually raided the mosque and the entire compound was destroyed and erased. A year later, the wife of the mosque's chief cleric had created several schools, resurrecting the extremist beliefs preached at the Red Mosque.

Nazar drew a cartoon of the cleric's wife teaching children how to abduct Chinese women. (China has numerous commercial investments in Pakistan, and several Chinese nationals had been taken hostage.) The backlash from this cartoon was beyond hostile, resulting in the newspaper building and staff having military protection for three months. The editor was eventually awarded the World Association of Newspapers Golden Pen Award for having the courage to publish and defend the cartoon.

A couple of days later, I'm sharing the stage with David Rowe from the Financial Review in Sydney and Patrick Chappatte from the International New York Times. David's work is simply devastating. Prolific and the master of detailed caricature in watercolour, it's a treat to see him here.

Patrick is Switzerland's answer to the Victorinox army knife. He's multi-skilled and not afraid to spend time in a Guatemalan prison, totally unguarded and freely mixing with prisoners documenting the gang culture in comic journalism.

As our cartoons on subjects global and local are rolled out, with questions asked and answered, there's little doubt that our contribution to the world in cartooning is highly regarded. My toughest question? "How do you tell the difference between a New Zealander and an Australian?" Answer: "It's all in the ideology. Australia mines and sells uranium. That would never happen in New Zealand."

On the last night the Washington-based Cartoonists Rights Network International has the stage. The razor-witted Joel Pett uses the moment to present the Courage in Editorial Cartooning Award for 2014.

Two recipients share this award and both are extremely brave women, publishing via digital media, Kanika Mishra from Mumbai in India and Palestinian Maida Snaheen from Gaza. Kanika challenged the sexual exploits of a popular local holy man who stood accused of rape.

Her passionate cartoons were demonised by his followers, yet she continued despite the very real threat of harm to her and her family. Palestinian cartoonist Maida challenged the relationship between Hamas and Al-Qud (Jerusalem) brigades, which then launched an immediate search for her whereabouts. As a result, her acceptance speech came in the form of a letter, read out by Anne Talnaes of the Washington Post.

Fortunately, Kanika was able to attend and it was a delight to meet her and her husband. It all makes "dirty politics" in New Zealand seem so, so ... insignificant and dreary by comparison. How lucky are we?

Rod Emmerson has been the New Zealand Herald's editorial cartoonist since 2003. He was named NZ Editorial Cartoonist of the Year in 2003, 2004, 2005 and 2014 and Australian Editorial Cartoonist of the Year in 2000 and 2003.