Occasionally magazines can publish very memorable columns. This was the case with Matt Coward’s article on the use of abusive language published just over twenty years ago in the New Statesman and Society. With some thought towards copyright and manners, it is inappropriate for me for to reproduce the full article. This is a shame as it is difficult to know what to leave out. It is worth reading in full, so do make use of a good library and read it:
Backchat
Mat Coward
New Statesman and Society, March 15, 1991, p.47.
Abuse costs nothing, that’s what I always say. And when I’m not saying that, I’m generally saying, “If you can’t think of anything obscene to say about someone, you’re better off not saying anything at all.” Of all the weapons in the political silo, the most valuable, and most underrated, is simple abuse.
I try to make it a personal rule to make at least three abusive telephone calls every day, except Mondays when I don’t get out of bed. I spent most of last year calling the Iraqi ambassador a pork butcher on his mobile phone. I suppose if I was a member of the SWP I’d have to ring him up now and apologise.
It was abuse, so the experts tell us, that finally shifted that hideous turd, Margaret Hilda [Thatcher], from the anal passage of a constipated nation….
Remember all those 1980s demos, with thousands of people politely and obediently bleating “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie – Out, Out, Out”? A weak effort, you’ll agree. The best anti-Mag slogan I ever heard was on a march for miners, but I only heard it once. Feminists, having issued a fatwah against the authors of “Ditch the Bitch”, were equally quick to ban “Maggie Thatcher’s Got One, Norman Tebbit Is One, tralalala…” A pity, really, because a good insult might have shortened Britain’s civil war by months, if not years.
Make no mistake, to be effective, abuse must not be too subtle. In the days of the anti-Nazi League, I had a sticker on my school satchel that read “The National Front is a Nazi Front”, and I was very disappointed by the number of skinheads who used to slap me on the back in a fraternal manner and say “Good on yer, mate.” It’s obvious when you think about it: “Nazi” is only a swear word to people who aren’t Nazis.
The sticker would have been in less danger of being misinterpreted as an advertisement, if it had read “The National Front Is A Load of Shit-Heads.” Some principles are emerging here: a) be brief, but not at the expense of scatological exactitude; b) insult your targets’ intelligence as well as their physiognomy; and c) you won’t shame Satan by calling him diabolic….
Neil Kinnock’s one great mistake (history will record) was that he never once told Margaret Thatcher, to her face, to go and get stuffed.
