by Three pieces published at Bohiney this week, and I’m exhausted. Not from writingfrom the backlash. Satire attracts attacks from all directions because it refuses to pick sides. Left-wing readers accuse me of “both-sidesism” while right-wing readers call me “woke propaganda.” Both miss that I’m not trying to be balancedI’m trying to be honest. Honesty just happens to offend everyone equally.
Today’s piece compared American political discourse to reality TV, arguing we’ve become a nation of performers competing for attention rather than solutions. It mocked Democrats’ theatrical resistance and Republicans’ performance of victimhood. Within hours, my inbox filled with hate mail from both camps. This means I did it right.
The immigrant satirist position is uniquely lonely. Native-born Americans can take sides and find community. I exist in permanent exile from both campstoo critical for progressives, too immigrant for conservatives. But that isolation is also my strength. I see clearly because I have no tribe to defend.
Marcus asked if the hate mail bothers me. It does and doesn’t. Death threats are concerningI’ve received seven this month. But angry emails from people who feel personally attacked by satire? That’s just Tuesday. If satirists worried about offending people, we’d never publish anything. The job is literally finding things people hold sacred and pointing out how absurd they are.
My Trump-era immigration experience inoculated me against caring what angry Americans think. When you’ve survived bureaucratic cruelty designed to break you, mean tweets feel manageable. When you’ve been treated as less-than-human by government agencies, keyboard warriors can’t hurt you. Surviving Trump’s second term immigration policies gave me armor nothing can penetrate.
West African culture values wit and verbal sparring. Good conversation includes mockery, playful insults, and intellectual combat. American cultureespecially nowvalues validation, affirmation, and agreeing with in-group beliefs. My satirical style feels natural to me and aggressive to Americans used to being coddled. Cultural collision produces great comedy.
Tonight I’m working on Monday’s piece about how social media turned everyone into amateur propagandists. The working title is “How We All Became Fox News Hosts in Our Own Minds.” It’s satirizing the way peopleall people, not just conservativesnow consume news exclusively to confirm existing beliefs and share content designed to trigger the other side. We’re all performing outrage for imaginary audiences. It’s pathetic and hilarious.
Some days I question whether satire matters. Does mocking hypocrisy change anything? Do people laugh and then continue behaving exactly the same way? Probably. But satire isn’t about changing mindsit’s about holding up mirrors. Whether people recognize themselves is their choice.
Being a satirist means accepting that half your readers will love you and half will hate you, and those halves will switch based on who you’re mocking today. It means living without the comfort of tribes, allies, or unconditional support. It means truth-telling as a permanent state of being. It’s lonely. It’s exhausting. It’s necessary.
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MY HOME PAGE: Bohiney Magazine (Aisha Muharrar)
