Middle finger succeeds the fist as symbol of resistance
There was a time when the raised fist symbolised all the struggles waged throughout the world. Think back to the peaceful and dignified passive resistance and defiance campaigns waged decades ago by South Africans opposed to minority white domination.
In the face of apartheid jackboots, rifle butts and bullets, South Africans marched with fists high against the pass laws in the early 1960s, as well as through states of emergency in the 1980s. Globally, the raised fist symbolised the struggles of the working class, of women and opponents of fascism. The “Roman salute” used by the Nazis and fascists is said to have been their response to the clenched fists of socialists and communists in Spain and Italy.
The fist represented the struggles of black people in the US, most poignantly at the 1968 Mexico Olympics, when victorious black US athletes gave the black power salute as their national anthem played.
Today another, potent symbol of resistance is emerging: the middle finger. Best depicted by Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei in his picture taken at Tiananmen Square in Beijing in 1995, it features in many of his other works. Since that picture on June 4, the anniversary of the 1989 Tiananmen massacre, he has taken similar ones of his now famous digit poking at a wide range of symbols of capitalism or suppression, including the White House.
In his large collective project with London’s Design Museum, online submissions of virtual middle fingers against a range of backgrounds have been invited. More than 15,000 contributions have been posted and can be viewed on Middle Finger Ai Weiwei & Avant Arte.
The backgrounds range from Moscow’s Red Square to Donald Trump, and include religious sites and corporate headquarters. As this symbol glides away from its phallic roots to the rarefied walls and websites of galleries, we need to reflect on its increasing appearance on anything from denim jackets to posters for demonstrations of all political stripes. At its core it symbolises the disillusionment with democracy and the form of capitalism that prevails today. In less polite company, one could say it symbolises an “F-you moment” in our history, when millions are frustrated with their political edifices as well as a system that does not care for their wellbeing. It speaks to the loss of hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
Political actions that follow target buildings and even staff of those seeming to be responsible for the desperate situations we find ourselves in. Hence the looting of businesses, government offices and public infrastructure in July 2021 in KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng — and also the 2021 attack on Capitol Hill, Washington, and threats of violence in the US. We see France rocked not just by its traditional penchant for protests but also attacks on municipal buildings,’ as Bordeaux s town in the hall torching doors. of The Financial Times’ Simon Kuper says that “the state’s autocratic nature helps explain why the French are so angry despite living relatively well”, pointing out that there is a serious conversation about rewriting the French constitution.
Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the unsuccessful left candidate in the 2022 French presidential election, argued that France needs a “Sixth Republic” that reduces the powers of the “monarch president”. As SA strides to its general election in 2024 a similar and urgent conversation is being held about electoral reform to ensure the deepening of our democracy and an accountable government acting in the interests of all of society. If we fail to restore the connection between public and state, and create an economy shared by all, we will see many more people responding to Weiwei’s call: “When we can raise our middle finger, don’t forget to do so unhesitatingly.”