Ethnic nicknames can also be terms of endearment

THERE was an interesting story about names in a recent issue of The Times. One paragraph gives the whole gist of the tale: “Experts yesterday said referring to an Indian as a Gupta may not be illegal, but could be regarded as an insult.” Apparently this was in response to an insulting post on social media in which somebody referred to Indians as “Guptas”.

One can see why this could be considered derogatory in the South African context, but the use of racial nicknames has a long tradition.

Here in South Africa we have had whole books of jokes written about Van der Merwe, usually depicted as being rather stupid and rustic in a clever sort of way. The Irish probably resent being called Paddy and the Welsh could be just as upset by being referred to as Taffies.

Constitutional law expert Pierre de Vos is quoted as saying that because the Guptas have never been found guilty of any crime, calling somebody a Gupta is not defamatory and is not hate speech.

Joke-tellers have always found it useful to have stereotypes in their stories. Polonius – in Shakespeare’s Hamlet – says brevity is the soul of wit. Using a nickname is a kind of shorthand.

If you start your story with a Scots name, your listener can expect to meet somebody who is very careful with money. (“How were the Cango Caves formed? Mac Tavish dropped a sixpence down a mole hole.”)

The Irish are said to have a distinctively odd sense of humour. (Paddy and Mike were out shooting ducks and Paddy fired at a flock of birds. One came tumbling out of the sky. “How’s that for a good shot?” said Paddy. “Oh I don’t know about that,” said Mike. “I think you wasted a bullet.” “How come?” “Well, the fall would have killed it anyway.”) See what I mean? In our jokes, Jean-Pierre the Frenchman considers himself a great lover, Heinz the German is obsessive about punctuality and precision, and so on.

(When I travelled in the Netherlands I heard many jokes that began; “There was this Belgian…” I think Belgians are the Van der Merwes of the Dutch joke-tellers.)

We all know there are many brilliant Van der Merwes and very generous Scots and Germans who have no regard for punctuality, but using them as standard joke characters saves a lot of waffle. Besides, it’s often the tone of voice that says it all. I remember a colleague at the Cape Argus many years ago, who was telling me about a fight she had had with her next-door neighbour.

“So I just turned to him and said, ‘You’re absolutely aesthetic!’.” “But Molly,” I protested, “aesthetic is not an insult.” “The way I bloody said it, it was,” she snapped. And I guess the same applies to the way you say Van der Merwe, or Paddy, or Gupta. They could all be terms of endearment.

Last Laugh

A tourist was being shown round a famous Russian zoo. In one enclosure a lion and a lamb were lying together in the shade of a tree.

“This is our exhibit to prove to the world that peaceful co-existence is possible,” said the tour guide.

After a pause he added: “Of course, we have to put in a new lamb every morning.”