Go >bleep< Yourself!
A Brief History of the Middle-Finger Salute
It goes by many colorful phrases— giving someone the finger. Flipping the bird. Flashing the unicorn. The one-finger salute.
Whatever you call it, The Finger is known today as the universal gesture of defiance and discontent. A bit vulgar perhaps, but it gets the point across plenty fast.
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 origins of ‘the bird’ were tied from the start to phallic imagery and references to sexual intercourse, usually in a derogatory tone.
In Greek comedy, the gesture was adapted so that it became a symbol of insult involving penetration of a certain part of the human anatomy. (“Oh yeah? Well, up yours, Andronikos.” The 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 spy ship, was overtaken by North Korean gunboats on the high seas. In a tense international incident, the crew and officers of the Pueblo were taken prisoner and subjected to months of beatings and torture.
Fighting back the only way they could, some of the sailors snuck in a subtle salute during a staged propaganda photo that was published around the world. 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.
Unfortunately, when the North Koreans found out what the gesture meant they weren’t happy about it. They unleashed “hell week” on the men of the Pueblo, severely punishing them for their brazen disrespect. The sailors lived to tell the tale when they were finally freed in December of that year. More than fifty years later their courage and defiance 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 The Finger. Thanks for taking the time to read this and, as they say, have a nice day.
Unless, of course, somebody comes along and says or does something that really burns you and pushes the old frustration needle a little too far. In that case, well, you know what you can do.
If you do you’ll be in good company.
