A magazine once published a list of books that — if written — would be the thinnest books ever. We have a book to add to the list: The humor of Osama bin Laden.
In the West, people almost never admit to having no sense of humor. But in the ranks of the radical Muslim militants, admitting you do have one can be costly. Earlier this week, Osama bin Laden condemned the re-publication of drawings that he claims insult the Prophet Muhammad and warned of a "severe" reaction to them.
The "culprits" in his mind are Danish. But since bin Laden's first outburst against the drawings two years ago, cartoonists and humorists — never folks who respond well to threats — have taken up the challenge and re-published the cartoons of Muhammad that were conceived as a show of solidarity for freedom of speech.
Freedom of speech is vital. It is no laughing matter. Yet the bin Laden brouhaha shows how often we take it for granted. Danish intelligence, for instance, has said re-publication of the cartoons brought increased risk to Danes abroad and also at home. The fact the Danish newspaper is being bold and uncompromising in its rights is admirable and worthy of support. Past lessons show, however, there is sometimes a steep price to be paid. That is what Westerners fail to remember.
In moments like this, the name of novelist Salman Rushdie always rushes to mind. Rushdie has lived his life on the lam after a chapter in his book "Satanic Verses" made light of the Prophet Muhammad. Would Rushdie do things differently if he'd known the outcome? Possibly. He has spent many years paying for what was really never a crime.
Still, the Rushdie case and the Danish newspaper controversy do point out how easily the rest of us feel wounded or "attacked" when we speak our minds. People complain when a letter to the editor takes them to task, or get upset because someone's commentary casts them in a bad light. At such moments, it's good to take a breath and keep things in perspective. We have it easy.
As comedian Jon Stewart said after Mel Gibson complained about the way he was being treated for his remarks, "Somewhere, Salman Rushdie is playing the world's tiniest violin."