The 'Alfossa' syndrome
Many have queried the origin of the word alfossa as used today in the term 'alfossa syndrome'. Undoubtedly the word is a composite one made up of two distinct words. But is it Al-fossa or Alf-ossa? The controversy about this word has raged in academic...
Many have queried the origin of the word alfossa as used today in the term 'alfossa syndrome'. Undoubtedly the word is a composite one made up of two distinct words. But is it Al-fossa or Alf-ossa?
The controversy about this word has raged in academic circles ever since it was coined by a cartoonist in Poohland around the middle of the first decade of the third millennium. At first some understood it to be Al-fossa, implying that a leading politician of the time whose name was Alfred (Al) was lost in some sort of pit in one way or another - the word fossa meaning pit, although not exclusively a cesspit, as the disgruntled supporters of the politician asserted.
Of all the different possibilities of the meaning of the word, they opted solely for this particular meaning. Why they did so is still not at all clear to this day and age, although this might have been a good subject for an in-depth psychological study that was never carried out.
The word fossa actually comes from Latin, meaning 'ditch', fossa being the past participle of the verb fodere (to dig). In the language of Poohland, fossa (plural fosos), means a pit and the word was even used for the old granary silos in the form of pits (fosos) dug out of live rock.
Political parties used to hold mass meetings and celebrations in an area where there were a number of these granaries - known colloquially as fuq il-fosos: on the granaries - and, as far as can be ascertained, no political party supporters are known to have felt annoyed because their political leaders had often asked them to gather on the 'cesspits'!
One can also refer to the word foss, which obviously has the same root as fossa. It means a ditch and, in fact, all ditches around defensive walls built in medieval times were referred to by this name e.g. il-foss ta' San Gakbu and others. Foss is perhaps a corruption of the French word fossé, meaning a long narrow excavation, canal, ditch or trench especially in fortifications. To this day there is a Roman road in Britain known as 'Fosse Way' because there is a 'fosse' on each side of the road. Incidentally the French use both fosse (pit) and fossé (ditch) as in sauter le fossé - to take the plunge!
There is an obvious difference between a pit and a ditch and, in any case, the word that raised a storm in a cesspit was definitely Alfossa and not Alfoss!
The Latin word fossa is also used in anatomy and usually refers to a shallow depression or cavity - a meaning that could hardly have fitted in the said politician's attributes.
It is interesting to note that a small bay in the capital city of Poohland is referred to as Il-fossa by the residents of the city. Again, in this context no one has ever implied that people swimming or boating in this bay are actually pursuing these activities in some sort of cesspit.
There is also another meaning of the word fossa: gemstone. A diamond on an engagement ring would be described as a very beautiful fossa.
A fossa is forever, so to speak - far off from the foul considerations that are educed by the notion of a cesspit! The Al-fossa combination could therefore have implied that the politician in question was nothing short of a political gem - a statement that should have been proudly acknowledged by his followers. And yet, they did not even consider this possibility, fully convinced - even though obviously erroneously - that fossa stands for a cesspit and nothing else. Quite a Freudian slip, if ever there was one!
The intriguing possibility that the two words that make up Alfossa are in fact Alf and ossa was propounded at a later stage of the controversy. Alf could still stand for the name of the political leader in question while ossa is Italian for bones. The word could have been a subtle abbreviation for 'bonehead' or 'boner' or even an allegorical reference to something that has been long dead or buried: something old or fossilised.
In the latter case, the disparagement - intended or otherwise - could have been considered to be of a more serious nature than the implication of the word fossa. The choice between a cesspit and an ossuary is not an easy one!
In spite of all these etymological ramifications, the controversy centred on one bone (!) of contention: whether the use of the word fossa meaning cesspit was ethical or abusive.
Nobody, it seems, gave any consideration to the possibility that, after all, this was just a bit of toilet humour that had, perhaps, gone over the top.
The only real consequence of this incident was the creation of the term 'alfossa syndrome' to describe a situation where someone who professes to believe in freedom of expression and is averse to totalitarianism ends up acting in a way that belies that his principles are not as absolute as people are led to believe. It seems that this tenet is not so basic, after all, as it suddenly disappears when the person in question is made an object of ridicule - a situation that is inherently contradictory and verges on the hypocritical.
The term was adopted by a psychiatrist who had heard of the Poohland anecdote and who, in the course of his practice, had noted that many personalities in the political mayhem that engulfed the neo-liberal world in the early years of the third millennium could not take jibes in their stride.
They fell into the trap of reacting to disparagement and jibes in a way that undermines their professed belief in freedom of speech.
Today such a condition is referred to as the effect of the 'alfossa syndrome'.
micfal@maltanet.net