Go >bleep< Yourself!
A Brief History of the Middle-Finger Salute
It goes by several offbeat names— giving someone the finger. Flipping the bird. Flashing the unicorn. The one-finger salute.
Whatever you want to call it, The Finger has long been recognized as the universal gesture of defiance and discontent. A bit vulgar perhaps, but in those uncomfortable moments when you find yourself in a real pinch it’s a great way to get a point across quickly.
Even if you’ve never once done it yourself, chances are at some point you’ve seen someone giving somebody else the finger — just hopefully not aimed in your direction too many times.
It’s a simple enough gesture. Clench the hand in a fist and boldly extend the middle finger in the direction of whoever cut you off on the highway or grabbed that last available parking spot. In some of life’s inevitable moments there’s something strangely reliable about reaching out and flipping somebody off.
Hell, the thing’s so easy an infant can do it.
(Okay, a bit of a cheap shot there, but you get the idea. And hey, if you can’t take a joke, well, chew on this, buddy.)
You may be surprised to learn this is not a recent cultural phenomenon. According to anthropologist Desmond Morris, “It’s one of the most ancient insult gestures known.”
The origin of ‘the bird’ dates back to antiquity and was tied to phallic imagery and sexual intercourse.
In Greek comedy, the gesture became a symbol of insult involving penetration of a certain part of the human anatomy. (“Let now the gods look upon you and smile, Andronikos, but as for me all I can say is — slight dramatic pause — shove this up your ass.” The Athenian audience erupts in laughter.)
In Latin, it was called the digitus impudicus or digitus infamis, meaning the “shameless, indecent or offensive finger.” Starting with the Roman poet Persius, it quietly made its way into mainstream poetry and drama. From there it was off to the races, one finger at a time.
The Finger was first captured on film in 1886 when a member of the New York Giants baseball club wisely or unwisely decided to take a team photo of their hated rival — the Boston Braves. Among them was veteran right fielder and future Major League Hall-of-Famer Charles “Old Hoss” Radbourne.
Apparently “Old Hoss” didn’t think too much of his competition or of having his picture taken that day. Standing stone-faced beside his Boston teammates, he watched the man with the camera do his thing, then timed the moment just right.
Okay…three…two…
Yeah, I got your number one right here, fella.
The shutter clicked and the manly insult was immortalized.
During the Second World War England’s Prime Minister Winston Churchill stood bulldog defiant against fascism, most notably during the Blitz when London was pummeled every night for eight straight months by Luftwaffe bombers.
The V-for-Victory salute was quickly adopted by Londoners and the Allies for the remainder of the war. It also became the man’s photographic trademark.
But don’t tell me it didn’t cross Churchill’s mind every time he looked into the camera that his middle finger wasn’t aimed right at Adolf Hitler. And we all know who won that one.
In January 1968 the USS Pueblo, an American surveillance ship, was captured by North Korean gunboats on the high seas. In a tense international incident, the crew and officers of the Pueblo were taken prisoner and subsequently subjected to months of beatings and torture.
Fighting back the only way they could, some sailors snuck in a subtle salute during a staged propaganda photo that was soon published worldwide. In effect, they were telling everyone that what the North Koreans were saying about their humane treatment of its prisoners was — you guessed it — fucked up.
When the clueless North Koreans found out what the gesture meant they were none too pleased and unleashed “hell week” on the men of the Pueblo, punishing them even more for their brazen disobedience.
The American sailors lived to tell the true tale when they were finally freed in December of that year. More than fifty years later their courage and defiance in the face of a brutal enemy is not forgotten.
As we have seen over the years, the Finger has proven to be a wonderfully utilitarian tool to have at one’s disposal. Why, even the vice president of the United States isn’t above flipping the bird, as Nelson Rockefeller gladly demonstrated to hecklers in 1976.
So there you have it — a brief and slightly provocative history of that most human of reflexive gestures — the Finger. Thanks for taking the time to read this and have a nice day.
Of course, if by chance some pain-in-the-ass comes along and says or does something that pushes the old frustration needle a little too far. In that case…well, you know what you can do.
