How Editorial Cartoons Tackle Religion: Editorial cartoonists have long used the sharp blade of satire to carve out commentary on religion. With a few strokes of the pen, they can provoke laughter, outrage, or deep reflection. Around the world, cartoonists have lampooned sacred figures, critiqued religious institutions, and spotlighted hypocrisy within various faiths – from Christianity and Islam to Hinduism, Judaism, Buddhism, and beyond. This in-depth look explores how cartoons have addressed religious issues across history and cultures. It examines key moments and artists who dared to target religion, the techniques they used to deliver biting commentary, and the challenges – legal, cultural, and personal – they faced in pushing the boundaries of free expression. Satire has proven a powerful tool to question dogmas and authority, but its practitioners often walk a perilous line between humor and offense. The journey of religious satire in editorial cartoons is one of creativity, controversy, courage, and sometimes, costly consequences.

Early Caricature and Religious Satire in History

Satirical art targeting religion is not a modern phenomenon – it dates back centuries. As early as the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, woodcut prints were used to mock the Catholic clergy and papacy. Reformers and their supporters circulated crude cartoons portraying monks and priests as ignoramuses or worse, reflecting popular discontent with Church corruption. In 18th-century England, artist William Hogarth created one of the first famous religious cartoons. His 1762 engraving “Credulity, Superstition and Fanaticism” ridiculed the feverish emotionalism of certain preachers and their gullible flocks¹. Hogarth’s print “lampoons the exaggerated religious ‘enthusiasm’” of the Methodist revival, depicting a wild-eyed preacher and a church scene full of absurd, superstitious behavior² Through exaggeration and busy symbolism, Hogarth revealed the “dangerous world of fundamentalist religion” by holding a mirror to its excesses.

By the 19th century, as press and print culture expanded, editorial cartoons became a potent form of commentary on religious institutions. In France, a strong anticlerical cartoon tradition emerged in satirical journals during periods of social upheaval. Caricaturists such as Honoré Daumier honed their craft mocking the pretensions of the powerful – including the alliance of Throne and Altar. Across the Channel, British magazine Punch (founded 1841) frequently poked fun at religious attitudes in Victorian society. Meanwhile, in the United States, cartoonist Thomas Nast earned renown (and infamy) for confronting the influence of the Catholic Church. Nast, a 19th-century illustrator for Harper’s Weekly, was an ardent critic of what he saw as Catholic interference in American public life. His most notorious cartoon, “The American River Ganges” (1871), portrays Catholic bishops as crocodiles crawling onto American shores, ready to devour schoolchildren, with the Vatican drawn in the background³. In this image – “one of Nast’s most famous cartoons” – mitre-wearing reptiles slither menacingly while a public school lies in ruins⁴. Nast’s dramatic metaphor captured a pervasive 19th-century Protestant fear that Catholicism would undermine education and democracy. Though blatantly bigoted by today’s standards, Nast’s work demonstrates how satire used caricature and animalistic distortion (turning bishops into beasts) to “match any other media for invective” in conveying an emotional point⁵.

These early examples underscore that satirical cartoons have long been “instruments of tremendous editorial power”⁶. From the Reformation through the Enlightenment and industrial age, cartoonists across Europe and beyond wielded art as a weapon to challenge religious authority. Whether ridiculing credulity in an English parish or stoking anti-Catholic sentiment in America, these cartoons used humor and grotesque imagery to question those who claimed sacred power. Crucially, early cartoonists often faced censorship or punishment for crossing the line. Daumier himself was imprisoned in 1832 for caricaturing King Louis-Philippe as Gargantua (a giant devouring resources) – a reminder that satirizing the ruling order, be it monarch or Church, carried risks. Still, the “ancient tradition” of cartooning thrived as a “democratic art form”, easily understood by the masses and not dependent on literacy⁷⁸. This democratization of dissent set the stage for modern cartoonists worldwide to take on religious issues in their societies.

How Editorial Cartoons Tackle Religion: Satire, Faith, and the Cartoonist — Image: Toons Mag

Satirizing Christianity: Church, Clergy, and Beliefs

Christianity, as the dominant faith in the West, has been a prime target of cartoon satire for generations. In predominantly Christian countries, cartoonists have scrutinized the gap between religious ideals and the behavior of churches or clergy. During the French Third Republic (late 19th – early 20th century), magazines like La Rire and L’Assiette au Beurre published scathing caricatures of Catholic clergy as greedy, immoral, or politically meddlesome. These cartoons fed into a broader secular movement that eventually led to France’s 1905 law separating church and state. The pencil proved mightier than the pulpit: humorous drawings undermined the aura of piety surrounding priests and nuns by depicting them as ordinary (or buffoonish) humans with vices and ambitions.

In the United States, 20th-century editorial cartoonists also satirized Christian institutions, albeit more carefully in a nation that remained deeply religious. Still, the Catholic Church’s scandals have not been immune. When widespread clerical sex abuse came to light in the 2000s, cartoonists depicted bishops sweeping crying children under a carpet, or pastors wearing stained garments, as stark visual indictments of cover-ups. One controversial cartoon by Pulitzer-winning cartoonist Pat Oliphant showed a Catholic priest as a child predator; it provoked anger among some readers for its blunt portrayal, yet highlighted the outrage many felt at the Church’s failure⁹. Cartoon satire has also targeted televangelists and fundamentalists – for example, caricaturing money-loving preachers or creationists fighting science with a Bible. These cartoons use irony and exaggeration to question whether the actions of certain believers align with the teachings of Christ.

Notably, cartoonists in traditionally Catholic countries have faced pushback from the Church. In one modern case from Kerala, India (which has a large Christian community), a cartoonist drew Bishop Franco Mulakkal – a Catholic bishop accused of raping a nun – in a less than flattering light. The cartoon lampooned the individual, showing the bishop in a compromising position. When this work was selected for an award in 2019, Christian clergy pressured authorities to intervene; under pressure, the state government asked the art academy to reconsider the award¹⁰. The cartoonist argued he was targeting the man’s misconduct, not the sanctity of the Church, but even so, outrage ensued¹¹. This incident reveals a pattern: satire of Christianity is widely accepted until it cuts too close to a community’s pride or a revered figure, at which point calls for censorship arise. Still, in many Western societies today, lampooning Christian symbols or leaders is legally protected speech – even if it ruffles feathers. In France, for instance, one may “make fun of religion… It may be poor taste, but it’s not illicit” under the law¹². French satirical weekly Charlie Hebdo has repeatedly exercised this freedom, printing provocative images such as popes wearing condoms or the Holy Trinity engaging in absurd acts, to emphasize that “nothing is sacred” in satire.

Indeed, Charlie Hebdo’s ethos is rooted in the French anticlerical tradition. Since its founding in the 1970s, the magazine has used “satire to critique organized religion”, including Catholicism, with gusto¹³. Charlie Hebdo cartoonists gleefully mocked popes, cardinals, and fundamentalist Christians alongside other targets, viewing it as speaking truth to power. Such cartoons can be juvenile or shocking, but they serve to challenge religious authorities’ immunity from criticism. One Charlie Hebdo cover during a papal scandal featured a weeping Pope Benedict XVI lamenting, “The leak is discovered!” with a yellow stain spreading on his cassock – a crass visual pun about Vatican leaks and perhaps bladder “leaks,” emblematic of the magazine’s no-holds-barred style. While many believers found this disrespectful, supporters defended it as legitimate satire of an institution accountable to the public. Legal battles have occasionally resulted – the Vatican reportedly sought action against the German magazine Titanic for a similar Benedict parody – but in democratic countries, courts often side with cartoonists on free speech grounds. The line is usually drawn at hate speech: ridiculing religious ideas or leaders is acceptable, but inciting hatred against a people (e.g. an ethnic or religious group) is not¹⁴. This distinction is crucial and has been tested repeatedly in the realm of religious satire.

Satire, Islam, and the Modern “Cartoon Wars”

If Christian-majority societies have grown somewhat accustomed to satire of their faith, the depiction of Islam has proven far more incendiary on the global stage. Islam forbids idolatry and traditionally discourages any visual depiction of the Prophet Muhammad – a rule many Muslims treat as sacrosanct¹⁵. This religious taboo, combined with the charged politics of recent decades, has made cartoons of Islamic figures a flashpoint for conflict. The most infamous episode is the Jyllands-Posten Muhammad cartoons controversy of 2005. In September that year, Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten published 12 editorial cartoons featuring Islam’s Prophet Muhammad, intending to make a point about self-censorship and the criticism of Islam¹⁶. Among the drawings was one by Kurt Westergaard depicting Muhammad with a bomb in his turban – a stark commentary on the association of Islam with terrorism. Muslim groups in Denmark protested and lodged complaints, and soon the issue exploded worldwide. By early 2006, as news spread (often in distorted form), protests erupted “around the world, including violence and riots in some Muslim countries”¹⁷. Mobs attacked Danish embassies, flags were burned, and more than 200 people were killed in various incidents of unrest¹⁸.

At the heart of Muslim anger was the belief that any portrayal of Muhammad is blasphemous – an insult to deeply held religious convictions¹⁸. The cartoons were seen not just as critique of extremist elements (as the cartoonists intended in some cases) but as an assault on Islam itself. The controversy, “Denmark’s worst international relations incident since World War II,” underscored a cultural chasm between free-speech norms in the West and reverence for religion in the Muslim world. It also emboldened a minority of extremists to justify violence in the name of defending their prophet. Sadly, jihadist groups plotted revenge: Al-Qaeda in Iraq put a bounty on the Danish cartoonists; plots to murder them or bomb newspapers were uncovered. Westergaard himself survived an assassination attempt in 2010 when an intruder with an axe broke into his home – the 75-year-old cartoonist escaped by hiding in a panic room until police arrested the attacker.

The “cartoon crisis” did not end there. French magazine Charlie Hebdo reprinted the Danish cartoons in solidarity in 2006 and continued to publish its own caricatures of Muhammad in the years following. One Charlie Hebdo cover in 2006 captured the magazine’s stance: it showed a weeping Muhammad lamenting “C’est dur d’être aimé par des cons” (“It’s hard being loved by idiots”)¹⁹. The Prophet is depicted holding his head, distraught by the violent extremists ostensibly acting in his name – a pointed message separating Islam from Islamism. While many Muslims still found any image of Muhammad offensive, the cartoon’s target was clearly the fanatics (“les cons”). Charlie Hebdo’s insistence on poking fun at all religions – Islam included – came with dire consequences. In January 2015, two French Islamist gunmen stormed the magazine’s Paris offices and murdered 12 people, including the editor and several famed cartoonists²⁰. This massacre, a direct response to Charlie Hebdo’s Muhammad cartoons, sent shockwaves around the world. Overnight, Charlie Hebdo became “internationally recognized as a symbol of free speech”, and millions rallied under the slogan “Je Suis Charlie” (“I am Charlie”)²¹. Yet even as many defended the right to satirize religion without being killed, others debated whether Charlie Hebdo’s often crude provocations (such as depicting Muhammad naked in pornographic poses in a 2012 issue) were worth the cost.

The fallout from the Charlie Hebdo attack highlighted the evolving boundaries of religious satire. In France, public support for free expression remained robust – caricaturing religious figures is legal, authorities affirmed, as long as it doesn’t veer into racist incitement²². But fear crept in elsewhere. Some major news outlets declined to reprint the controversial cartoons even when reporting on them, citing respect or security. Teachers and artists who displayed the cartoons became targets: in October 2020, French teacher Samuel Paty was beheaded by an extremist after he bravely showed Charlie Hebdo cartoons during a class on free speech²³. This tragedy underscored that the mere display of a satirical cartoon of Muhammad – even as part of a civic lesson – could provoke lethal fanaticism.

Despite the risks, many cartoonists in both Western and Muslim-majority countries have continued to engage with Islamic themes. Some Muslim cartoonists use satire from within to critique extremist distortions of their faith. For example, in the Arab world, political satirists have lampooned terror groups like ISIS or the hypocrisy of Islamist politicians. A famous case in Jordan saw writer/cartoonist Nahed Hattar share a cartoon mocking an ISIS fighter’s idea of heaven – the cartoon depicted a jihadist in bed with women ordering God to fetch him wine. Though aimed at extremists, the cartoon was deemed blasphemous by some; Hattar was arrested and later assassinated by a militant in 2016 while facing trial. This chilling incident echoes the dangers faced by Muslim reformist voices. Yet, as scholar Bruce Lawrence notes, there is a “strong tradition” of satire in Muslim cultures: “Satirizing yourself and your own community is a tradition in Muslim literature and arts — and so is mocking people in power.” In fact, “political satirists are among the boldest people in the Arab and the Muslim world”, taking on rulers and clerics alike²⁴. A modern example is Egyptian comedian Bassem Youssef (though not a cartoonist, his satire TV show targeted the Muslim Brotherhood’s excesses). In Iran, where direct criticism of ruling clerics is dangerous, cartoonists have sometimes resorted to metaphor – drawing mullahs as animals or ominous clouds – to question theocracy. These creators keep alive the spirit of satire under regimes that punish blasphemy harshly.

The Islamic world’s reaction to religious satire is by no means monolithic. In more secular or pluralistic Muslim-majority countries like Indonesia or Tunisia, cartoonists occasionally tackle religious conservatism or intolerance, albeit with caution. But in nations with strict blasphemy laws (Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, etc.), depicting holy figures or critiquing religion can lead to prison or worse. A notorious case is Bangladesh in 2007: a young cartoonist, Arifur Rahman, published a mild joke in a satire magazine in which a boy named his cat “Muhammad.” Though the cartoon’s punchline was a linguistic play (intended to highlight how common the name is), it triggered street protests and government crackdown. The paper was forced to apologize, the issue was banned, and Arifur was arrested and jailed for six months²⁵. Even a “harmless play on [the] name Muhammad” was deemed criminal blasphemy by authorities²⁶. He later fled into exile. Such incidents exemplify the severe legal and cultural challenges in parts of the world: a cartoonist’s satirical intent may be irrelevant if religious sentiments are perceived to be slighted.

South Asia: Satire and the Sacred in Hinduism (and Beyond)

In India and South Asia, where a mosaic of religions coexists, editorial cartoonists have not shied away from religious topics – but they tread a fine line given the region’s sensitivities. India’s foremost cartoonists, from Shankar Pillai in the mid-20th century to R.K. Laxman in recent decades, often poked fun at social practices rooted in religion. Laxman, for instance, drew the archetypal “Common Man” observing absurdities in everyday Indian life, which sometimes included gentle jabs at superstition or at politicians’ public displays of piety.

However, open satire of Hindu deities or scripture is extremely delicate. Hinduism lacks a formal blasphemy doctrine, yet devout Hindus can react strongly to perceived insults to their gods. An example of crossing the unwritten line was the controversy around artist M.F. Husain (not a cartoonist but a painter) who depicted Hindu goddesses in the nude – resulting in threats and exile. Cartoonists have generally avoided direct caricature of Hindu gods, focusing instead on deriding godmen (self-styled gurus) or extremist groups. In recent years, as Hindu nationalism grew, even critiquing those groups can spur backlash. Cartoonists like Satish Acharya have faced online harassment and threats from trolls if they question religious fervor or majoritarian policies. In one instance, Acharya drew a cartoon about the hijab controversy in a Karnataka college, which led to him being attacked simultaneously by both Hindu and Muslim hardliners – a sign that satire which seeks a balanced critique can displease everyone in polarized times.²⁷

Neighboring countries have their own red lines. In Pakistan, no cartoonist would dare depict the Prophet or question Islamic tenets due to stringent blasphemy laws. But in India’s plural democracy, the constitutional freedom of expression allows lampooning religion up to a point. India’s penal code does have Section 295(A) against “outraging religious feelings,” which has been used to file cases against artists and writers. Thus, cartoonists operate with an implicit sense of what is too far. For example, making fun of the extravagant rituals of certain Hindu festivals or pointing out the commercialization of religion is generally accepted. But a cartoon that could be seen as demeaning a deity or a revered icon (say, showing Lord Ganesha in a silly context) would likely provoke street protests, legal charges, or worse.

This was evident in a controversy a few years ago involving a decades-old political cartoon of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar (a revered figure for Dalits, almost a messianic icon). The cartoon, drawn in the 1940s by Shankar Pillai, showed Ambedkar (the chief framer of India’s Constitution) being prodded to speed up his work. When it was rediscovered in a textbook in 2012, some activists interpreted it as disrespectful to Ambedkar and launched protests, even though it had been intended as light critique. The uproar led to the cartoon’s removal and demonstrated the retrospective outrage that can greet even historical satire. Similarly, in Sri Lanka, cartoonists navigating ethnic and religious tensions (Buddhist vs Tamil Hindu vs Muslim) must be extremely cautious, as any perceived slight to Buddhism (the majority religion) could result in swift suppression under laws protecting Buddhist sanctity.

Jewish Themes: Satire or Stereotype?

When it comes to Judaism, editorial cartooning faces a unique paradox. On one hand, Judaism as a religion – its scriptures, rabbis, or practices – is not a common target of mainstream satire, especially after the horrors of the 20th century. On the other hand, anti-Semitic cartoons have a notorious history. From vicious caricatures in Nazi Germany’s Der Stürmer (which depicted Jews as demonic figures) to propaganda in the Arab press that caricatures Jewish symbols, many so-called “satirical” images of Jews have in fact been tools of hatred. This legacy means cartoonists today must take care that critiques of Jewish religious or political institutions do not echo old stereotypes. For example, drawing a beak-nosed Orthodox rabbi hoarding money would rightly be condemned as offensive, not clever. Western publications have strong taboos against anything resembling the caricatures that fed antisemitism.

That said, Israeli cartoonists do satirize aspects of their own religious society. In Israel’s vibrant press, one can find cartoons critical of the ultra-Orthodox establishment or of religious hardliners. An Israeli cartoonist might draw politicians from religious parties as Kingmakers extorting concessions (e.g., depicted as black-hatted puppeteers) to critique their outsized influence. These are often accepted as legitimate commentary within Israel’s rough-and-tumble political discourse. However, even Israel has sensitivities – a telling case occurred in 2018 when veteran cartoonist Avi Katz was let go from the Jerusalem Post after he drew Israeli lawmakers as pigs from George Orwell’s Animal Farm. He intended to satirize government hypocrisy, but the use of pigs (an unkosher animal and a classic antisemitic trope) offended many readers, showing how imagery can misfire. The paper received complaints that the cartoon was derogatory and it parted ways with Katz, illustrating that even internal satire has boundaries when religious-cultural red lines are crossed.

In the broader world, Jewish religious figures are seldom mocked in cartoons, partly out of a post-Holocaust sensitivity and partly because Judaism is not commonly seen as imposing on secular society in the way some other religions are. One exception is when Jewish symbols intersect with politics – for instance, cartoons critical of the Israeli government might use the Star of David or other iconography. This can be controversial. In 2019, The New York Times’ international edition ran a syndicated cartoon showing Israeli PM Benjamin Netanyahu as a dog leading a blind President Trump, with a Star of David collar. The intent was to comment on U.S.-Israel policy, but it was widely denounced for invoking an image uncomfortably close to antisemitic themes (Jewish control, animal depiction)²⁸. The Times apologized and tightened oversight on cartoons. The lesson here is that satirizing Judaism requires a very careful calibration – distinguishing genuine critique of, say, the Israeli Chief Rabbinate’s policies or of extremist settlers, from imagery that generalizes or vilifies Jews as a whole.

However, within Jewish communities, humor about religion thrives in less public forums. There is a rich tradition of Jewish satire (from Yiddish skits to modern stand-up comedians) gently teasing rabbis, kosher rules, or the multiplicity of Jewish holidays. In editorial cartooning, this often translates to light-hearted cartoons in community publications – for example, depicting a confused secular Jew navigating the strict Sabbath rules, eliciting a knowing smile from readers. Such cartoons intend to reflect on religious practices rather than attack them.

Buddhism and Other Faiths: Sacred Cows of Satire?

Compared to the Abrahamic faiths, Buddhism and some Eastern religions have seen relatively less cartoon satire – not because they are flawless, but often because of different cultural contexts. In countries like Thailand, Myanmar (Burma), Sri Lanka, and Bhutan, Buddhist monks and symbols are highly respected and often legally protected from insult. Cartoonists in these societies typically avoid ridiculing the Buddha or core Buddhist tenets. It’s telling that one of the few controversies in this realm involved a foreigner: in 2014, a bar manager in Myanmar (a Buddhist-majority nation) was arrested for using a Buddha image wearing headphones in a promotional poster, deemed offensive to Buddhism. If even a trivial graphic for a dance event led to jail, one can imagine that a biting cartoon of Buddhist clergy would be explosive. Thus, satire relating to Buddhism usually aims at the peripheral issues – for instance, criticizing extremist Buddhist monks who incite violence (like Myanmar’s ultranationalist monk Wirathu) or mocking the materialism of certain temples. A courageous Sri Lankan cartoonist might draw a militant monk wielding a sword in one hand and a statue of Buddha in the other, thereby highlighting the contradiction between Buddhist teachings of peace and nationalist hatred. But such a cartoon would circulate mostly underground due to fear of reprisals.

In East Asia, religious satire in cartoons takes other forms. Chinese state-run cartoons have depicted the Dalai Lama (the Tibetan Buddhist leader) as a sinister figure – essentially propaganda against a “splittist” monk rather than free satire. Meanwhile, Japanese manga and anime occasionally include irreverent takes on religious icons (Buddha appears as a character in one comedy manga alongside Jesus, for example), but these are niche and meant for a secular audience with a sense of irony. Broadly, Buddhism is not frequently a target of editorial cartooning in the same confrontational way as Christianity or Islam, perhaps because its institutions wield less direct political power in most countries today (with the notable exception of, say, the role of monks in Myanmar’s politics).

Other faiths like Sikhism or indigenous religions seldom feature in global cartoon discourse, though Sikhs did protest in 2005 when a cartoon on South Park (an animated TV show) portrayed their founder Guru Nanak – indicating that sensitivity extends to any revered figure, not just the main prophets. In India, cartoons about Sikh turbans or the sacred Golden Temple would be virtually off-limits due to the painful history of the Sikh community. Thus, cartoonists often enforce their own self-censorship on certain “sacred cows,” whether literal or metaphorical, picking battles where satire can do more good than harm.

Techniques of Religious Satire in Cartoons

How do cartoonists actually convey satire about religion? The toolkit of techniques is rich and creative. Caricature – exaggerating physical features – is a staple. A cartoonist might accentuate the long beard and hunched posture of an ultra-orthodox rabbi or the toothy grin of a televangelist to make them appear comic or absurd. Symbolism is another key: religious symbols (the cross, the crescent, the om, the Star of David, etc.) carry deep meaning and cartoonists deploy them in novel contexts to spark insight. For example, during sex abuse scandals, some cartoons drew a cross morphing into a sword pointed at children, symbolizing the betrayal of innocence by the church. During sectarian violence, an artist might draw a temple and a mosque on balancing scales to comment on impartial justice. These visual metaphors allow complex critiques at a glance.

Anthropomorphism – giving human traits to religious symbols or vice versa – is also common. Thomas Nast turning Catholic bishops into crocodiles in “The American River Ganges” is a classic early example²⁹. That dehumanization was meant to incite fear and disgust toward the clergy (though today it reads as bigotry). Modern cartoonists use gentler forms, like drawing a globe dressed as a priest to suggest the universality of a problem, or a national flag depicted as a prayer rug to question when politics bows to religion. Juxtaposition and irony drive the humor in many religious cartoons: placing a holy figure in an unholy scenario. One famous ironic motif is showing God as a white-bearded old man on a cloud – cartoonists have portrayed this figure reading prayers like emails, or taking a vacation while humans fight below, as witty commentary on divine distance or the nature of prayer. In a more daring vein, some have drawn Jesus Christ giving the Sermon on the Mount while modern politicians ignore him, underlining the hypocrisy of those who claim to follow Christ but do the opposite.

When direct depiction is too incendiary (as with Muhammad), cartoonists resort to indirect representation or allegory. A blank space with a note “Image of Prophet censored by fear” can itself be a powerful cartoon – many publications ran such blank-box cartoons in solidarity during the Muhammad cartoon crisis, making the point that fear was dictating editorial decisions. Others used substitute symbols – for instance, a turban with a fuse (as Westergaard did) or simply a man’s figure labeled “Muhammad” without distinct features, to obey the letter of aniconism while still making the point. Some cartoons feature dialogue or captions to deliver the satirical punchline, especially if the visual alone might be misinterpreted. In Charlie Hebdo’s cover with the weeping Muhammad, the quote “100 lashes if you don’t die laughing!” was placed in a speech bubble on another cover featuring Muhammad as “guest editor”³⁰. This use of the Prophet’s own voice (in the cartoon) to mock fundamentalists is a bold technique: it turns the forbidden subject into an active character advocating the cartoonist’s viewpoint, thereby subverting expectations.

Censorship, Backlash, and the Price of Provocation

For all the wit and artistry, satirizing religion in cartoons often comes at a high price. Cartoonists have faced anger, bans, lawsuits, and physical danger in virtually every era and region. Authoritarian regimes – secular or theocratic – are quick to censor cartoons that challenge religious narratives they uphold. The Soviet Union, for example, had state-sanctioned anti-religious cartoons in its Bezbozhnik (“Godless”) magazine targeting the church, but would never allow a cartoon that mocked the atheist state ideology. In the Middle East today, a cartoonist ridiculing Islamist militias might be feted by one side and marked for death by another.

As mentioned, some have paid with their lives: the Charlie Hebdo massacre of 2015 remains the darkest illustration. Eight of the magazine’s cartoonists and staff were killed for drawings – an almost unthinkable outcome that underscored how “a newspaper is not a weapon of war,” yet in the eyes of fanatics, cartoonists are treated as combatants³¹. Ten years later, Charlie Hebdo’s team still works under heavy police protection, and threats persist³². In 2020, even after relocating offices, a terrorist stabbed people outside the magazine’s former building – a grim reminder that the anger lingers³³. And in 2023, when Charlie Hebdo published satirical cartoons of Iran’s Supreme Leader, the Iranian regime “issued threats against its staff”, while in Turkey the magazine’s cartoon poking fun at President Erdoğan led to a pending trial against four Charlie cartoonists in absentia³⁴. These incidents show that transnational censorship is very real – a cartoonist in one country can be targeted by authorities or extremists from another country if the subject is religious and politically charged (Iran’s Ayatollah, or a president with religious appeal like Erdoğan).

Even in democracies, legal action is a tool to intimidate or punish cartoonists. Defamation, blasphemy, or “hurting sentiments” are charges used in various jurisdictions. In India, cartoons have prompted contempt of court charges (for criticizing judges, who are quasi-sacrosanct)³⁵ and in some cases, arrests under colonial-era laws. In 2012, Indian cartoonist Aseem Trivedi was jailed on a sedition charge because his cartoons attacking political corruption used national symbols in a profane manner – reflecting how political and religious reverence often intertwine. Globally, Reporters Without Borders (RSF) documented at least “20 emblematic cases” in the decade after Charlie Hebdo’s attack where cartoonists faced harsh reprisals³⁶. From China (imprisoning a cartoonist for subversion) to Nicaragua (intimidation of cartoonists by the government) to the Middle East, the “threats and harassment” are widespread³⁷. Many of these cases involve religious elements, directly or indirectly, because regimes often justify crackdowns by claiming the satirist offended the nation’s faith or values.

The fear of backlash and violence has led to increased self-censorship in some quarters. A number of major newspapers have scaled back or eliminated editorial cartoons entirely in recent years, partly to avoid controversies (the New York Times ended all political cartoons in its international edition after the Netanyahu-Trump cartoon backlash). Some cartoonists choose pseudonyms or social media as their outlet, away from editors who might shy from contentious religious topics. For instance, the webcomic Jesus and Mo, drawn by a pseudonymous artist in the UK, satirizes religious dialogue by depicting Jesus and Muhammad as roommates discussing theology and current events. It’s witty and has a niche following, but the artist remains anonymous due to security concerns, and indeed the comic has sparked protests when its posters were put up at universities. This exemplifies how digital platforms have become a double-edged sword: they allow satirists to reach audiences directly, but also expose them globally. A cartoon that might pass relatively unnoticed in a local newspaper can, in the age of the internet, be seen by millions and provoke international incidents. The 2005 Danish cartoons were aided in their worldwide dissemination by email and websites, often stripped of context, fueling anger in places far removed from Denmark.

Evolving Boundaries of Free Expression in Religious Satire

As our world becomes more interconnected, the boundaries of acceptable religious satire are constantly being renegotiated. What one culture finds humorous critique, another may view as unforgivable blasphemy. The challenge for cartoonists (and their editors) is navigating these differences without losing the essence of satire – which is to challenge the powerful and the orthodox. In many liberal democracies, the trend has been to fortify free expression legally. Blasphemy laws have been abolished or fallen into disuse in several countries (for example, the UK repealed its last blasphemy law in 2008; Ireland removed theirs via referendum in 2018). This legal shift recognizes that in a pluralistic society, no religion’s dignity can be enforced by law above others’. However, social norms often lag behind or conflict. A joke about the Church that might be fine in Paris could provoke outrage in Poland; a cartoon deriding Hindu practices could be career-ending in India even if technically legal, due to public pressure.

One interesting evolution is the broad agreement in many places that satire must punch up, not down. This means cartoonists are more lauded when they target those in power (a pompous televangelist, an authoritarian theocrat, a corrupt guru) than when they mock ordinary believers or marginalized communities. The French lawyer in the NPR report put it succinctly: making fun of a belief is allowed, but attacking a people crosses the line³⁸. Hence, a caricature of the Pope tackling controversies is accepted satire, whereas a cruel depiction of, say, an Orthodox Jewish community just for being different would be regarded as hate speech. Cartoonists themselves, as socially conscious actors, are often aware of this line. They aim to use satire as a tool to provoke debate and reflection, not to gratuitously wound the devout. When successful, a religious satire cartoon can spark important conversations – about reform in the Church, about the role of religion in politics, about tolerance and fanaticism. When misjudged, it can harden attitudes and even endanger lives.

The future of religious satire in cartoons will likely involve continued balancing. Organizations like Cartooning for Peace, founded in 2006 in the wake of the Danish cartoon crisis, bring together cartoonists from around the world (including from Muslim-majority countries) to promote cross-cultural understanding. They argue that satire can be a bridge rather than a bomb-thrower – if done with context and cleverness. At the same time, satirists insist that respecting religion should not mean exempting it from criticism. As Charlie Hebdo’s editor Gérard Biard said, “I don’t understand how people can attack a newspaper with heavy weapons. A newspaper is not a weapon of war.”³⁹ In other words, responding to cartoons with violence is a tragic overreaction that society must reject.

And yet, cartoonists know they cannot control how audiences react – especially in an era of proliferating media. Thus, some may choose safer subjects (politics sans religion), while others carry the torch of irreverence forward. The fact that ten years after the Charlie Hebdo attack, France is still debating satire’s role⁴⁰ indicates this dialogue is ongoing. New case studies emerge with each passing year: one month it’s a cartoon contest announced by a magazine to “mock God” on the attack’s anniversary (as Charlie Hebdo did in 2025)⁴¹, another month it’s a court trial for a cartoonist in a different country.

How Editorial Cartoons Tackle Religion

In summary, editorial cartoonists worldwide have used satire as a scalpel to dissect religious issues – sometimes to heal (by exposing truths), sometimes drawing blood. From Hogarth’s engravings to Charlie Hebdo’s covers, from Nast’s crocodilian bishops to a blogger’s webcomic about prophets, the styles and targets vary immensely. What unites them is a belief that no institution or ideology is above scrutiny. Satire has been a way to “hold up a mirror” to society⁴², reflecting how religious power can be misused or how faithful practice can drift into folly. The risks cartoonists face – censorship, backlash, even murder – are a stark reminder of the potency of their drawings. As long as religion plays a role in public life, there will be cartoonists compelled to comment on it with humor and art. And as long as those cartoons appear, we will continue to confront the tough questions they raise about faith, freedom, and the fragile boundary between the sacred and the profane.

How Editorial Cartoons Tackle Religion: Satire, Faith, and the Cartoonist

Early Caricature and Religious Satire in History

Satirizing Christianity: Church, Clergy, and Beliefs

Satire, Islam, and the Modern “Cartoon Wars”

South Asia: Satire and the Sacred in Hinduism (and Beyond)

Jewish Themes: Satire or Stereotype?

Buddhism and Other Faiths: Sacred Cows of Satire?

Techniques of Religious Satire in Cartoons

Censorship, Backlash, and the Price of Provocation

Evolving Boundaries of Free Expression in Religious Satire

How Editorial Cartoons Tackle Religion

Footnotes

Written by Sondre Borg

The Ethics of Satire: Where Do Editorial Cartoonists Draw the Line?

The Role of Editorial Cartoons in Highlighting Human Rights Issues

The Role of Cartoons in Education: Learning Through Laughter

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