Jailhouse bloc

Kissing babies and posing for selfies may still be effective in tickling up voters, but Europe's recent elections reveal a suite of counterintuitive new strategies.

- Jane Clifton

The modern candidate might consider adding prison-administered leg irons and arm shackles to their hustings costume, and a charge of conspiracy to commit assault causing harm.

These worked a treat for Ilaria Salis, who is now a new Italian MEP (member of the European Parliament) despite or because of - a protest rampage in Hungary.

Or you could campaign from an Albanian jail, with a two-year sentence for vote fraud as your campaign mascot, which was the novel approach of Fredi Beleri, now a Greek MEP.

Alternatively, there's the minimalist option of remaining utterly silent, refusing to submit so much as a photograph, let alone putting up hoardings, and staying off the hustings altogether.

This daring playbook has pitched retired Greek farmer and butcher Galato Alexandraki, 76, into her new career in Brussels. Modest about her ingenious voter manipulation, she told reporters, "I don't know how this happened."

Perhaps disappointingly, it probably happened because she was on a nationalist party ticket rather than because of her refreshingly understated approach.