Essays in Idleness

Say “undocumented immigrants” often enough, and it will become a hate crime. This is the fate of most intended euphemisms; few benefit from repetition. The “owner” of the euphemism would have been better off with his original appellation; especially if he’d earned it — usually by playing too consistently to stereotype.

Call him a “deplorable,” however, and he’ll scrawl it on his banner. Both “Tories” and “Whigs” were named by their opponents, in honour of Gaelic highwaymen and horse thieves respectively, during Britain’s Inglorious Revolution. It backfired both ways. The most malign insults — those truly without affection or humour — often do so. They become funny simply because they are so vicious.

My favourite continues to be a term which, according to a story quite apocryphal (a “backronym” as we call it today), began with an instruction from the Viceroy. He wanted general staff to stop calling the natives rude names. He proposed, “Worthy Oriental Gentleman,” instead, as official nomenclature. Given the British genius for affixing racist monosyllables to the over-various peoples of the world, it was contracted to “Wog” right away.

I love “Frog,” “Spic,” “Kraut,” “Wop” — all, be it noted, for white people — and a few I won’t mention because the subjects might actually be defenceless. All these quick epithets could be used affectionately, and still can be, by friends and lovers. As recently as the Korean War, “Gooks” was added to the inventory — for the people soon wiping us out in trade competition.

The need to invent a racial slur for Belgians (“Waffles” can cover only half of them) was a common topic in the pubs of Kent, back when I was alive. Any old edition of Brewer’s Phrase and Fable will supply numerous options for Dutchmen. They were the prime movers for that Inglorious Revolution of 1688 (as the Frenchmen were for the Yankee one of 1776). Surely, in the view of any Loyalist, they had it coming.

Now, faced with a legitimate non-racial monosyllable, extension would be indicated. If one meant an actual amphibian frog, one could clarify by calling it “a Dutch nightingale.” Dutch auction (prices falling), Dutch gold (nasty zinc store tokens), Dutch convert (a noisy drunk), Dutch concert (a drunken brawl), Dutch courage (gin) — it’s all there in the old Brewer’s, “or I’m a Dutchman.”

Once, while delivering a disquisition on this topic, in a pub at Canterbury, a stranger listening from the bar introduced himself as a Hollandish person. He had been laughing; and joined us, in good English, for a more general discussion of abusive terms. This proved useful. You see, it is only because Englishmen speak no other language that they are unaware of the world’s terms for them.

Back when (in another century) I had become briefly engaged to a charming Chinese lady, owing to a linguistic misunderstanding, I was privileged to be taught the broad Swatow vocabulary for the round-eyed types. I could pronounce almost none of it (I’m no good with tones), but will affirm that the Chinamen are far ahead of us — each European nation identified with a particular sordid disease, or traditionary demon. I’m sure it was affectionate in every case.

My mommy, when very young, had blazing red hair (to say nothing of the freckles), and was subject to bigoted attacks for this in a Cape Breton coalfield, cum-schoolyard. “Redhead, gingerbread, ten cents a loaf!” &c. She was instructed by her own mother to reply, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me!” Hearing that, her next black-haired assailant beat her up.

I do not contend that racism is pretty; but it is colourful, and when banned for certain races (you can still call Anglos anything you want; they’re not allowed to hit back) a term will simply be euphemized, into something secretly more demeaning. Indeed, I like to cite racism as a universal thing; something that binds all men together.

We need a National Bigotry Day, in which for twenty-four hours we can all find relief from the Political Correctors. And laugh at each other, scoff taunt and mock, because (have you noticed?) all of us deserve it.