In praise of ... satire

Ned Sherrin, whose funeral was yesterday, could claim to be the inventor of television satire. When That Was the Week That Was hit the spot in 1962, Sherrin and a then unknown presenter called David Frost were condemned as "destroyers of all that Britain holds dear". That destructiveness is of course the whole point of satire, comedy taken to a pitch where it could force change through a stinging mix of popularity, derision and shame. It was necessary in Britain then and it is still needed today, not just here but in countries where to mock politics really is to be brave. To tread the boards in Burma when the reward for a hit political show is seven years hard labour, is a remarkable act of courage.

As the Times reported this week, U Pa Pa Lay, the star of the Moustache Brothers, was led away by Burmese policemen two weeks ago after he organised a troupe of performers to take part in the recent protest marches. He and his cousin have already done one stretch. Soon after they did a routine in which they joked about government cooperatives as thieves and sang comic songs about the generals, they were forced to work with iron bars across their legs. It is less dangerous to pillory the president in Kenya, but, with an election close, a sign of democratic vigour.

Last week a Newsnight film showed the comedy group Redykyulass, who lampooned President Moi, and are now turning their fire on President Kibaki and his wife Lucy, to persuade Kenyans to vote. Ned Sherrin would have been proud of them all.