R.U.P.T.
Four letters and five question marks hanging in the air. Acronyms are a popular sport — cramming many words into one tidy abbreviation.
BMW doesn’t stand for “Bob Marley & the Wailers” but for Bayerische Motorenwerke. IBM not for “I’ll Be Mechanical” — but for International Business Machines. Same letters, completely different world. Who, beyond the abbreviation itself, still gives any thought to what each of those letters actually means? I mean, apart from me?
Right. Hardly anyone.
Abbreviations have become a habit of life. “Etc.” or “LOL” stand entirely on their own, no questions asked. Why are abbreviations used in language at all? Ah yes — to save time, and back in the SMS era, to squeeze more out of a limited character count. Fair enough.
But what does this R.U.P.T. in the title stand for? I’ve never come across this one before. “Ruthless Unhinged Plutocrats with Totalitarian ambitions”? No, thank goodness we haven’t quite arrived there. Not yet.
Well, it isn’t actually an abbreviation for anything — but those four letters, “rupt,” keep making themselves felt in rather unpleasant ways. In news language and in everyday conversation, they flash up quite clearly in the word salad. Most of the time they show up rather abruptly and leap straight at me. Into the left eye. And then they attach themselves to the end of words and shift their meaning entirely. A sentence experiences an interrupt — a rupture in what was otherwise a pleasant flow of words. Annoying, but there it is. Most often, though, “rupt” turns up in the word “corrupt.” Quite frequently, in fact.
C.O.R.R.U.P.T.
And once again a word like this has a Latin past. That quietly departed language still carries a long, lasting reach. Medicine and science would be unthinkable without it. The Romans called something or someone “corrumpere” when bribery was involved. Oh — knife-sharpening? Or did they simply mean the regular, power-abusing kind of bribery?
What it actually points to is the old and supposedly extinct custom of barter. Before the invention of money — and of the urge to flaunt it — exchanging goods and services was the only way to keep trade moving. The basic principle of exchange is still very much part of our culture. The only difference between ancient barter and today is that the exchange now happens under the table and in the back room. The public, you see, doesn’t much care for watching politicians being handed thick, well-stuffed envelopes. Yes, that works for well-stuffed politicians too, who receive thick envelopes… And then the building permit goes through just fine.
Well now — the old Roman pipes up again. He points out that “corrumpere” carries even richer meanings in its little bag. Things like “depravity” and “decay.” Bribery is the symptom. Decay is the disease.
No, corruption is not a minor offence. It can very well become a verdict. And then the world is once again incorruptibly in order by seven in the morning.
R.U.P.T.
