The jihadi massacre last week in Paris will remain branded in our collective consciousness for some time. Yet Charlie Hebdo’s audacious publications and opinions leave me wondering about the magazine’s real cultural merit. Cambridge’s newspapers are heavily preoccupied with political correctness but, occasionally, questionable insinuations are unavoidable. If the university founded a similarly polemical weekly like Charlie Hebdo, many students would read and enjoy it; but amid the daring, comic illustrations, offensive slurs would often be forgotten.

Sooner or later, the Cambridge University Women’s Society would get involved - many of you will remember the semi-innocent ‘jelly-wrestling’ debacle at Wyverns. In entertainment, not everyone can be satisfied. Although women wrestling each other in paddling pools of raspberry-flavoured gelatine seems like something pulled from the pages of Charlie Hebdo, it was a reality. Satire and caricature aim to distort our experiences. They are not media to be taken seriously.
In a free society, there is a place for everything, including parody. Each of these outlets serves a specific purpose, targeted at certain readers, age groups and interests. Bearing this in mind, at whom was Charlie Hebdo’s offensive humour directed? In our daily lives, the overwhelming majority would not dream of expressing such irreverence for fear of being discredited as racist.

Perhaps our stiff upper-lip filters it out. At a memorial on King’s Parade this Sunday for attacks on Charlie Hebdo, those moved by last week’s atrocity rallied in unison: terrorising France’s freedom of press would not be tolerated, nor would negative backlash for France’s Muslim community. Alizée Moreau, an MPhil student, argues that these protests have nothing to do with the articles themselves, believing that we must “refuse to turn on our Muslim or Jewish neighbours, and never [give] in to fear and hatred”. One PhD student’s concerns for the Muslim Community echoed Alizée’s opinion: “In the UK and Cambridge, diversity is celebrated. In France however, many groups want us to conform to a strict definition of ‘Frenchness’. I grew up with many of the cartoonists from Charlie Hebdo and it upsets me that we have lost them, yet what worries me more is how Muslims are being used as scapegoats, much like the Jews were in Nazi Germany.”

The British practice of multiculturalism has largely succeeded, especially when compared to the French Burqa ban. However, the City of Cambridge and its Muslim population have a turbulent relationship. It is disgraceful how long the community has had to wait to build a central mosque. So too is the Mosque’s development committee’s objection to placing student accommodation adjacent to it. If we cannot learn to live together, we cannot live at all.

Society’s cultural critics balance between insight and offence. As teenagers, many of us get our first taste of controversy: giving the finger to society and poking fun at others’ religious beliefs. In time, we realise this is childish. We develop more complex opinions of society and reality (the ridiculous is less fun when you are conscious of its ridiculousness). Most of us try to show at least a minimum amount of respect towards people of different races and religions. Instead of insulting, we listen.

At the same time, the extreme and provocative hold important public functions. Culture and art progress through the distortion of human experience. I believe that freedom of speech functions in a similar manner. When the extreme is taken seriously (see Marine Le Pen and the Front National), problems arise. Fundamentalists believe these extremes to the very last detail, and are unable to take their beliefs with a pinch of salt. Comedians single out those who cannot laugh at themselves; we should do the same.

However, the Islamic community is victim to more than the occasional jibe. Constant undercurrents of antagonism towards the Middle East have become acceptable in our daily lives. Some people now use ‘Muslim’ as a synonym for terrorist. France has a multifaceted relationship with the Islamic world: many protestors in 2010 recognised the French Revolution as an inspiration for the Arab Spring. These are the values that Westerners should be celebrating, not offensive cartoons whose sole aim is to cause uproar.

But in most societies, adults and children eat at different tables. Those who read The Daily Telegraph or the Financial Times sit with the adults. The magicians, clowns and people like Marine Le Pen sit with the children. Most do not consider them credible, but they do listen.

In short, a healthy society does not silence free speech. Rather, it awards certain status to certain speakers. For great thinkers, our uninterrupted attention. For the comedian, a relaxed ear. For Marine Le Pen, a sceptical one. In Cambridge, the world’s greatest discoveries come from outlandish ideas. Regardless of one’s viewpoint, justifiable arguments are valid, with or without humour.