True satire can’t be silenced

The maxim “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it,” often erroneously attributed as a direct quotation by Voltaire, has been much in usage in the last few days.

The atrocity that saw the murder of eight journalists and cartoonists, a visitor, a caretaker and two police officers at French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo this week — and the hunt for the killers which at time of writing appeared to be approaching a bloody denouement yesterday — has rightly dominated the global news agenda.

It is shocking in this day and age that journalists and satirists should be gunned down merely for the act of poking fun at a concept, albeit one dear to many millions around the world.

The use of satire to skewer bloated egos and lance suppurating cankers of hypocrisy on the body politic is, ironically, a great literary and journalistic institution in and of itself.

The Oxford dictionary defines satire thus: “Noun: satire: The use of humour, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticise people’s stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues.”

Perhaps the earliest recorded example of the form is the work of Roman poet Juvenal in the first and second centuries AD, although it is highly likely that piss-taking and mockery have been around ever since the first societies were formed.

Where a society exists it invariably follows that there are those who feel it is their right to rule it.

Equally frequently those who deem themselves as ideal candidates to govern are the least qualified to do so.

They seize power through force, or the implicit threat of force, and employ the same measures to retain it.

The powerful can, and do, control almost every aspect of our lives.

They can cement their always tenuous position through tyranny and brutality. What they cannot do is command respect.

They can demand it until they are blue in the face, use threats of violence in a bid to suppress dissent and even profess to have achieved their aim.

But deep down, even among the most unhinged despots, there remains a sneaking suspicion that they are being mocked. And it is that which really drives them insane.

And that is precisely why it is such a vital part of our society. Someone must always be on hand to point out that the emperor not only wears no clothes but appears to have a particularly nasty rash.

Satire is by its very nature savage, scurrilous and iconoclastic — at least if it’s any good. There would be no point otherwise.

The term “a gentle satire” gets bandied around quite frequently but what it really means is that it is rubbish and not really funny.

That’s like comparing Jerry Seinfeld with Lenny Bruce. Or Roy Walker with Dave Allen — or pretty much anyone else for that matter.

True satire grabs you by the throat and shakes you until you collapse either in paroxysms of mirth or convulsed with fury — it doesn’t coyly tickle you with a feather and run away.

There are those of course who deride satire as mean-spirited and puerile. Curiously these tend to be the very people being satirised, or those who have had a total sense of humour bypass.

As with any medium, quality varies wildly and much of what passes for satire these days does not truly live up to the name.

But even a cursory examination of the history of the form throws up such brilliant exponents as Swift, Rabelais, Shakespeare, Bierce and Hazlitt to name but a few, as well as artists of the calibre of Hogarth and Gillray.

Satire is the principle weapon of the powerless against the powerful and as such must be cherished and preserved for as long as pomposity, arrogance and the abuse of authority exist.

The satirist traditionally ploughs a lonely furrow and the role is fraught with perils, but losing your life for expressing an opinion, however controversial, should not be one of them.

What those behind the callous murders this week have failed to comprehend is that satire is synonymous with rebellion and resistance to authority.

As such it flourishes in times of puritanism, persecution and adversity. In fact it becomes a necessity.

Intimidation and violence do not work to silence dissent, rather they achieve the exact opposite.

They merely serve to harden the resolve and, as has been witnessed this week, are capable of uniting usually implacable enemies in a common cause.

This column began with a quote attributed to Voltaire and it is fitting to finish on another, this time by Bernard Shaw:

“All censorships exist to prevent anyone from challenging current conceptions and existing institutions.

“All progress is initiated by challenging current conceptions, and executed by supplanting existing institutions.

“Consequently, the first condition of progress is the removal of censorship.”