If there is one thing I can say with certainty, it is that British Asians of all religious persuasions feel more uncomfortable than others at satire regarding their faith.

A short clip from a new BBC2 show called Revolting has gone viral online and sparked controversy, not only for its title (The Real Housewives of Isis), but because it depicts their members alongside the kind of biting satire we rarely see.

One clip shows two women trading nasty looks because they’re both wearing identical-looking suicide vests on a day out. Another one has difficulty keeping track of how many dead husbands she has been through.

There’s a lot to unpack here, including the fact that I still can’t find the Isis emoji on my phone – and also whether using it might get me arrested by MI5. More seriously, I can see why the programme is being criticised. At a time when Muslims face stigma and racism, especially from vindictive tabloid newspapers which have been found guilty of smearing Muslim families, such humour can make things worse.

But the case for uncomfortable satire like The Real Housewives of Isis is far, far stronger.

Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Show all 12 1 /12 Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A man crosses a street in Aleppo, December 12, 2009 Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A vendor sits inside an antique shop in al-Jdeideh neighbourhood, in the Old City of Aleppo, December 12, 2009 Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A view shows part of Aleppo's historic citadel, overlooking Aleppo city, Syria Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A view shows part of Aleppo's historic citadel, Syria Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Visitors walk inside Aleppo's Umayyad mosque, Syria Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War People walk inside the Khan al-Shounah market, in the Old City of Aleppo, Syria Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A man walks past shops in al-Jdeideh neighbourhood, in the Old City of Aleppo, Syria Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War People walk along an alley in al-Jdeideh neighbourhood, in the Old City of Aleppo, Syria Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Visitors tour Aleppo's historic citadel, Syria December 11, 2009 Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A general view shows the Old City of Aleppo as seen from Aleppo's historic citadel, Syria December 11, 2009 Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War People walk near Aleppo's Bab al-Faraj Clock Tower, Syria October 6, 2010 Reuters Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War Aleppo before the Syrian Civil War A man stands inside Aleppo's historic citadel, overlooking Aleppo city, Syria December 11, 2009 Reuters

We have been here before. It’s nearly 20 years since Goodness Gracious Me took Britain by storm. Asians laughing at themselves? Making fun of white people? Unheard of! Many British Asians initially hated it too, saying it perpetuated stereotypes and could fuel racism. Hell, it even featured a Hindu holy man who tricked gullible white people into parting with their money (and sometimes their clothes). You couldn’t get more cutting edge than that.

We underestimate the power of humour. Laughing at ourselves isn’t just a way to break down barriers; it is also a means to challenge fundamentalists.

Arabs know this better than most – they have been making satire and comedy shows about Isis for longer than we have. As the Saudi comedian Nasser al-Qasabi put it: “Warning the people about Isis is the true jihad [struggle], because we’re fighting them with art not war.”

The argument against poking fun at a terrorist group such as Isis, or even any religious group at all, rests on the idea that people shouldn’t be allowed to comment on others. What is satire, after all, if not a form of commentary?

Humour is subjective. If you don’t find it funny, so what? Others may do. When I posted about this on Facebook, I had a comment from a Muslim hijabi woman who said she loved it. But saying people shouldn’t be allowed to poke fun is to imply people cannot be allowed to comment on others. That is a dangerous proposition. It’s one step away from saying non-Muslims cannot write articles about Muslims and vice versa. Is that the kind of society we want?

In pictures: Isis' weapons factories Show all 11 1 /11 In pictures: Isis' weapons factories In pictures: Isis' weapons factories A mortar round fin manufactured by Isis in Gogjali, Mosul, November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories Isis rocket components discovered in Gogjali, Mosul, Iraq in November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories Isis mortars discovered near Karamlais, Iraq, in November 2016 CAR In pictures: Isis' weapons factories An Isis rocket launch frame in Qaraqosh, November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories A memo from Isis' COSQC on quality control at a manufacturing facility in Gogjali, Mosul, November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories Electrically-operated initiators manufactured by Isis in forces Gogjali, Mosul, November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories Isis mortar tubes at a manufacturing facility in Karamlais, November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories An Isis mortar production facility discovered in Gogjali, Mosul, in November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories An Isis weapons manufacturing facilities near Mosul in November 2016 Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories Stocks of French-manufactured Sorbitol, Latvian potassium nitrate and Lebanese sugar at an Isis weapons factory in Iraq Conflict Armament Research In pictures: Isis' weapons factories A destroyed Isis weapons facility in Qaraqosh, Iraq, November 2016 Conflict Armament Research

The main argument against The Real Housewives of Isis is that its protagonists are victims who should be pitied, not ridiculed. Kadiza Sultana, Amira Abase and Shamima Begum were 15 and 16 when they were groomed and brainwashed into joining that death cult.

But the uncomfortable fact is that Isis also attracted older British women who knew what they were doing. Tareena Shakil was 26 when she fled to Syria with her son to join Isis. Khadijah Dare was 24 when she left with her own son. Samantha/Sherafiyah Lewthwaite was 32 when she joined; Sally Jones was even older.

Isis did groom their victims, but most of them were not underage. The group also attracted women who knew what they were doing and deserve to be ridiculed. Our sympathy should lie with the real victims of Isis: the underage girls who were groomed and the Yazidi women who were brutally raped and enslaved. Making jokes about them would be crossing the line, but The Real Housewives of Isis doesn’t do this.

I know that not everyone will agree with me and many still find such jokes in poor taste. That’s fine. We shouldn’t expect everyone to like them. But a society where satire has to be approved by everyone before being allowed doesn’t know the value of comedy.