Political humor has long served as a vital survival mechanism, emotional defense, and form of resistance against authoritarianism, a theme illustrated by both historical Soviet jokes about Joseph Stalin and modern political satire. From Soviet citizens who risked treason charges under a 1935 ban to mock their dictator, to contemporary comedians at the Oslo Freedom Forum targeting global leaders like Donald Trump, comedy acts as a safety valve that diminishes the fear of powerful figures and transmits truth to power. Despite efforts by authoritarian regimes and modern leaders to suppress or penalize comedians, political humor remains a resilient tool for psychological coping, social bonding, and dissent, proving that laughter can pierce through the darkest times to foster resilience and challenge oppression.

Political humor has long served as a vital survival mechanism, emotional defense, and form of resistance against authoritarianism, a theme illustrated by both historical Soviet jokes about Joseph Stalin and modern political satire. From Soviet citizens who risked treason charges under a 1935 ban to mock their dictator, to contemporary comedians at the Oslo Freedom Forum targeting global leaders like Donald Trump, comedy acts as a safety valve that diminishes the fear of powerful figures and transmits truth to power. Despite efforts by authoritarian regimes and modern leaders to suppress or penalize comedians, political humor remains a resilient tool for psychological coping, social bonding, and dissent, proving that laughter can pierce through the darkest times to foster resilience and challenge oppression.

Political humor has long served as a vital survival mechanism, emotional defense, and form of resistance against authoritarianism, a theme illustrated by both historical Soviet jokes about Joseph Stalin and modern political satire. From Soviet citizens who risked treason charges under a 1935 ban to mock their dictator, to contemporary comedians at the Oslo Freedom Forum targeting global leaders like Donald Trump, comedy acts as a safety valve that diminishes the fear of powerful figures and transmits truth to power. Despite efforts by authoritarian regimes and modern leaders to suppress or penalize comedians, political humor remains a resilient tool for psychological coping, social bonding, and dissent, proving that laughter can pierce through the darkest times to foster resilience and challenge oppression.

Russian dictator Joseph Stalin died over 70 years ago, but the jokes involving him live on. Especially the ones he never told. He did say “one death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic”, and “people who cast votes decide nothing; people who count the votes decide everything”. But most Stalin jokes are apocryphal. They are attributed to him because he could have said them, though there is no evidence that he did.

But, mostly, Soviet citizens secretly invented Stalin jokes: often at personal peril. A popular one, that survives decades, goes: a worker stands in a queue for bread for hours. He finally says, “I’ve had enough. I’m going to Moscow to shoot Stalin.” Hours later he rejoins the queue. “What happened?” people ask. “The queue to shoot Stalin is even longer,” he says. Russian leader Mikhail Gorbachev recalled, “Even in the most desperate times, the jokes saved us.”

Humour is therapy in dark times, not because it changes circumstances, but because it changes feelings. It is a defence mechanism against powerlessness, grief and isolation. When painstakingly built dreams turn to ashes, homes into ruins, and loved ones into ghosts, it is impossible to laugh. Yet, the human spirit, like dandelions, struggles to survive, piercing through cracks in pavements to catch sunlight. When societies become pressure cookers, laughter is a safety valve, allowing emotional ventilation and social bonding. Caricaturing dictators makes them less fearsome. Soldiers, journalists and civilians in war zones often develop wry, ironic humour to make horror emotionally manageable.

Political jokes are also a form of resistance to aggression. In a first, the Oslo Freedom Forum, an annual gathering of dissidents, rebels and fighters against authoritarianism, showcased stand-up comedy this year. The Nordics take Donald Trump’s threat to invade Denmark’s Greenland seriously. Sweden’s furniture-maker Ikea is famous, less well-known is that a Danish company makes Lego, the building blocks that children love. Norwegian comedian Pernille Haaland joked, “No worries. Nordic combat manoeuvres against Trump are in place. Sweden will export Ikea furniture to the US without instructions on how to assemble. Denmark will build a Lego wall around Greenland and make Mexico pay for it. Norwegians have salmon flippers to slap invaders; Finland will put America into a sauna and “lock her up”.”

Chinese comic Blank Peng ridiculed stereotyping of migrants​​, “Westerners say to me, ‘you are young and pretty, you must be a Chinese spy’, and ‘you must have come to London to escape political persecution’. I tell them, ‘no, I came because my parents are rich’.” Trump jokes are global, British satire irrepressible. Trump: “I can end Ukraine war in 24 hours”. Reporter: “How?” Trump: “By changing the subject.”

After Trump announced 39 imminent ceasefires with Iran, tabloids announced his new book ‘The Art of No Deal’. American comedian Jimmy Kimmel summed up Iranian strategy, “Make America wait again.” His mocking explanation for Trump starting the Iran war: “Operation Epsteino Distracto”. Trump hates Kimmel and manoeuvres to have him fired, as he did successfully with comic Stephen Colbert. Kimmel says, “Trump has three wars going on right now—against Iranians, Ukrainians and comedians.”

Political humour is wit transmitting truth to power. In 1935, Soviet authorities outlawed political jokes, making them as treasonous as leaking state secrets. It did not stop the jokes. On a school visit, Stalin asks a child, “Who are your parents?” “My father is Stalin and mother is Russia,” she says. A pleased Stalin asks, “And what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“An orphan,” says the child.

Pratap is an author and journalist.