Hang

Hang (pronounced hang)

(1) To fasten or attach a thing so that it is supported only from above or at a point near its own top; to attach or suspend so as to allow free movement.

(2) To place in position or fasten so as to allow easy or ready movement.

(3) To put to death by suspending by the neck from a gallows, gibbet, yardarm, or the like; to suspend (oneself) by the neck until dead.

(4) To fasten to a cross; crucify.

(5) To furnish or decorate with something suspended.

(6) In fine art, to exhibit a painting or group of paintings.

(7) To attach or annex as an addition.

(8) In building, to attach (a door or the like) to its frame by means of hinges.

(9) To make an idea, form etc dependent on a situation, structure, concept, or the like, usually derived from another source.

(10) As hung jury, hung parliament etc, where deliberative body is unable to achieve a majority verdict in a vote.

(11) In informal use, to cause a nickname, epithet etc to become associated with a person

(12) In nautical use, to steady (a boat) in one place against a wind or current by thrusting a pole or the like into the bottom under the boat and allowing the wind or current to push the boat side-on against the pole.

(13) To incline downward, jut out, or lean over or forward.

(14) To linger, remain, or persist; to float or hover in the air.

(15) In informal use (to get the hang of), the precise manner of doing, using, etc, something; knack.

(16) In computing, as “to hang”, usually a synonym for “freeze”.  Nerds insist a hang refers only to a loss of control by manual input devices (mouse; keyboard etc) while the machine remains responsive to remote control whereas a freeze is a total lock-up.

(18) In chess (transitive) to cause a piece to become vulnerable to capture and (intransitive) to be vulnerable to capture.

(19) As “hang up”, to end a phone call, a use which has continued even though many phone handsets no longer physically “hang up”.

Pre 900:  A fusion of three verbs: (1) the Middle English and Old English hōn (to hang; be hanging) (transitive), cognate with the Gothic hāhan (originally haghan); (2) the Middle English hang(i)en & Old English hangian (to hang) (intransitive), cognate with the German hangen; and (3) the Middle English henge from the Old Norse hanga & hengja (suspend) (transitive), cognate with the German hängen & hangēn (to hang).  The ultimate source of all forms was the Proto-Germanic hanhaną (related to the Dutch hangen, the Low German hangen & hängen, the German hängen, the Norwegian Bokmål henge & Norwegian Nynorsk henga), root being the primitive Indo-European ḱenk- (to waver, be in suspense).  Etymologists compare the evolution with the Gothic hāhan, the Hittite gang- (to hang), the Sanskrit शङ्कते (śáṅkate) (is in doubt; hesitates), the Albanian çengë (a hook) and the Latin cunctari (to delay).  From the Latin cunctari, Modern English retains the very useful cunctator (a procrastinator; one who delays).  Hang is a noun & verb, hangman, hanger & hangee are nouns, hanging is a noun, verb & adjective, hanged is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is hangs.  In practice, while it's correct to say someone executed is “the hangee”, the usual practice is to refer to them as “the hanged” and in the case of multiple, simultaneous hangings, depending on the sentence structure it can correct to say “the hanging” or “the hangings” (if referencing the event) or “the hanged" (if referring to the unfortunate individuals).

Past tense: hung and hanged

Hang has two forms for past tense and past participle, “hanged” and “hung”.  The older form hanged is now used exclusively in the sense of putting to death on the gallows by means of a lawful execution, sanctioned by the state.  Even in places where capital punishment is no longer used, it remains the correct word to use in its historical context.  There are two forms because the word “hang” came from two different verbs in Old English (with a relationship to one from Old Norse).  One of these Old English verbs was considered a regular verb and this gave rise to “hanged”; the other was irregular, and ended up as “hung”.  Hanged and hung were used interchangeably for hundreds of years but over time, hung became the more common.  Hanged retained its position when used to refer to death by hanging because it became fossilized in both statute and common law; it thus escaped the development of Modern English which tended increasingly to simplified forms.  Even the familiar phrase hung, drawn and quartered originally used “hanged”, a change reflecting popular use.  The only novel variation to emerge in recent years has been to use hanged to describe executions ordered by a state and hung when referring to suicides by hanging although this remains still a trend rather than an accepted convention of use.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) held it wasn't necessarily erroneous to use "hung" in the case of executions but in standard English it was certainly less customary although most style guides acknowledge the distinction still exists while noting the use of hung is both widespread and tolerated.  The consensus seems to be it’s best to follow the old practice but not get too hung up about it.

Portraits: hung and not hung

A tourist admiring a piece of (very) modern art, hung in the Louvre, Paris, 22 February, 2026.

Works of art being stolen from art galleries is a not uncommon crime and such acts tend now to receive wide coverage only if what was taken was worth millions, in some way interesting or the execution of the heist was especially audacious, as recently was the case in a well-planned operation at the Louvre.  However, smuggling something into a gallery to be hung is unusual and on 22 February, 2026, briefly, the Louvre gained an exhibit, a framed copy of the now famous image of a seemingly stunned Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (b 1960, formerly Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Admiral etc) slumped in the back seat of a police car after his arrest in connection with matters relating to his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019).  The cunning stunt was organized by the “anti-billionaire” activist group “Everyone Hates Elon” which, emulating the gallery’s protocols, placed a label beneath the hung image reading, “He’s Sweating Now — 2026” and the group later posted on-line that the display was intended as “a call for accountability”.  According to press reports, photograph and caption remained hung “for about 15 minutes” before being removed by museum staff.  Everyone Hates Elon is a UK-based collective devoted to political campaigns using the modern techniques of the social media age.  It was formed in 2025 explicitly to oppose businessman Elon Musk (b 1971), prompted by his (possibly ill-conceived) involvement in politics as an advisor to Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) although its remit quickly extend to other billionaires and such.  In any other context, Mr Mountbatten Windsor might have seen the humor in what students of Andy Warhol (1928–1987) would have labelled “15 minutes of fame from being 15 minutes in a frame” but it’s doubtful he laughed.  The “He’s Sweating Now” text was a reference to the “train-wreck” of an interview the then prince/duke/admiral etc in 2019 agreed (against professional advice) to undertake for the BBC’s Newsnight programme, one memorable assertion being his claim that for some physiological reason he was at the time “couldn’t sweat” and thus his accuser (Virginia Giuffre (1983-2025)) was lying when she said she'd seen him perspire while both were in nightclub.  More men have talked themselves into difficulties than have ever talked their way out of them.

The photograph of Mr Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, while under arrest.  Analysts of such things suggest that, aware of the photographers, he was attempting to "make himself invisible to their lens".

The instantly famous image of a seemingly stunned former prince slumped in the back seat of a police car after his arrest was snapped by Reuters staff photographer Phil Noble who gleefully admitted capturing the moment was “more luck than judgement” and a case of being “in the right place, at the right time”.  Like the “blood shot” & “bullet shot” taken by Doug Mills in Butler, Pennsylvania on 13 July 2024 when an assassin’s bullet grazed right ear of Donald Trump, had either photographer been standing even a few inches to the left or right or had pressed the button a second earlier or later, the moment would have been missed.  As Mr Noble put it: “The photo gods were on my side.  Is it the best photo I've ever taken?  No.  Is it up there with most important? 100%.”  Digital technology also did its bit, six images shot in rapid succession, two of which showed only police officers, two proved blank and one was out of focus, none of which mattered because the one that went around the work was about as perfect as a news-photo can be.  Although publications routinely use software to “edit out” the “red eye effect” (caused by a reflection from the camera’s flash), on this occasion it was left untouched, better to capture the immediacy of the moment when the former prince's thoughts may have been focused on the fate of Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649).

Hangman the game.

Both played for fun and used as an educational tool for children, Hangman is a guessing game in which letters or numbers are chosen to enable a word, name or phrase to be completed.  Originally for two or more players, one charm of the game is it demands nothing more than pencil & paper although there are now electronic versions suitable for single-user play.  In Hangman, one player draws on the paper dashes (and, if need be, spaces) which correspond with the word or phrase and the other(s) tries to guess it by suggesting letters or numbers within a certain number of guesses.  In its simplest form, six guesses are allowed, corresponding to the six body parts of the stick figure to be hanged (1 x head, 1 x torso, 2 x arms & 2 x legs) with those parts drawn on the gallows with each wrong guess.  To make it easier to solve or when long, obscure or complex text is used, other body parts (feet, hands, ears etc) and even the elements of the gallows can be added.  Perhaps surprisingly in these more sensitive times, Hangman hasn’t be cancelled and is still widely played although it's recommended by some that if used with young children, the alternative version “Snowman” might be a better choice, the rules exactly the same.

Mandy in underpants (presumably his but who knows?).  There is no suggestion Mandy engaged in inappropriate or improper conduct with this unidentified young lady.

When, particularly with younger children, Hangman is used as an educational tool, it can be helpful at certain points in the game to provide a clue and for the example above one might furnish the photograph from the Epstein files of Lord Peter “Mandy” Mandelson (b 1953) in his underpants, speaking with an unidentified woman.  The photograph was taken in the New York apartment of convicted paedophile sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein and when asked about the image, his lordship responded by saying he “did not recall” the circumstances.  Some were uncharitably cynical about that (lack of) recollection but it does seem plausible given (1) Mandy doubtless spent much time wandering Epstein’s apartment while in his underpants and (2) because Epstein had so many “acquaintances”, Mandy could hardly be expected to remember them all.

Most politicians, usually by virtue of uninterest, leave the arts to others but there are exceptions and while Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) wasn't unique among politicians in regarding himself as “an artist” he was untypical and his credentials were reasonable because in pre-World War I (1914-1918) Vienna he’d earned a modest living as a painter of the streetscapes in which there’s now a somewhat controversial trade.  Critics seem prepared to concede Hitler was a competent artist when depicting buildings and even the natural environment but all concurred with the examiners who denied him entry to art school on the basis he had not enough talent to handle the human form, a judgment some historians, political scientists and amateur psychoanalysts have over the years mapped onto his political career.  With that, even he may have agreed because the people in his paintings are almost always small, un-detailed blotches, there merely to lend scale to the buildings which were his real love but, after taking power in 1933, he didn’t let that stop him establishing himself as the Reich’s chief art critic and he’d judge portraiture as harshly as any landscape.  He certainly thought an “artistic temperament” was vital for a politician to achieve greatness, rejecting the idea of Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) succeeding him as Führer because the head of the SS was “totally unartistic” and it was Hitler’s self-identification as “an artist” which in the first decade of his rule protected many painters, sculptors and others from persecution.  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) noted that for Hitler their political views were “…a matter of supreme indifference…” because “…he regarded them one and all as politically feeble-minded.”

Speer recalled a lunch in 1938 at Munich’s Osteria Bavaria (Hitler’s favorite Italian restaurant) during which a senior Nazi functionary brought to the Führer’s attention a Communist Party proclamation (pre-dating the Nazi regime) which had been signed by a large number of artists; the apparatchik wanted all these artists banned from any government work but Speer recoded how “Hitler replied disdainfully, ‘Oh, you know I don’t take any of that seriously. We should never judge artists by their political views.  The imagination they need for their work deprives them of the ability to think in realistic terms. Artists are simple-hearted souls. Today they sign this, tomorrow that; they don’t even look to see what it is, so long as it seems to them well-meaning.’”  It was an indulgence to freedom of expression Hitler granted few others and a contrast also with what would have been the likely reaction of comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) to revelations of dissent.  Comrade Stalin’s three preferred ways of dealing with such problems were: (1) have them taken outside, put up against a wall and shot, (2) have them sent to the Lubyanka (KGB headquarters on Moscow's Lubyanka Square) to be tortured to death or (3) have them sent to the Gulag to be worked to death.

Portrait of Oliver Cromwell (1650), oil on canvas by Samuel Cooper.

Even if it’s something ephemeral, politicians are often sensitive about representations of their image but concerns are heightened when it’s a portrait which, often somewhere hung on public view, will long outlive them.  Although in the modern age the proliferation and accessibility of the of the photographic record has meant portraits no longer enjoy an exclusivity in the depiction of history, there’s still something about a portrait which conveys, however misleadingly, a certain authority.  That’s not to suggest the classic representational portraits have always been wholly authentic, a good many of those of the good and great acknowledged to have been painted by “sympathetic” artists known for their subtleties in rendering their subjects variously more slender, youthful or hirsute as the raw material required.  Probably few were like Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) who told Samuel Cooper (1609-1672) to paint him “warts and all”.  The artist obliged.

Although certain about the afterlife, Cromwell was a practical politician with few illusions about life on earth.  Once, when being driven in a coach through cheering crowds, his companion remarked that his popularity with the people must be pleasing.  The lord protector replied he had no doubt they’d be cheering just as loud were he being taken to the gallows to be hanged.  Of course, to someone dead, in a practical sense it ceases much to matter whether they’d been hanged, struck by a meteorite or murdered by the Freemasons; dead is dead.  However, the method of dispatch does carry connotations and a hanging has always been thought to be the marker of punishment for some dishonourable crime whereas as to die before a firing squad, on the executioner’s block or under the blade of the guillotine can have a whiff of respectability.

Soviet cartoon: Caricature of the defendants and the anticipated Nuremberg judgment (1946) by the Soviet artists known as the Kukryniksy: Porfiry Krylov (1902-1990), Mikhail Kupriyanov (1903-1991) & Nikolai Sokolov (1903-2000).

As the trial wore on, at least two of the defendants were recorded as requesting shirts with “larger collars” and on one occasion one removed his tie, explaining it was “suddenly feeling tight”.  The famous quote “Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully” appears in volume 3 of The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. (1791) by James Boswell (1740-1795) (a biography of the English writer and literary critic Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)).

The defendants before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) trying the major Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg (1945-1945) certainly felt that, both the military men (Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; head of OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, the armed forces high command)) and Colonel-General Alfred Jodl (1890–1946, chief of the OKW operations staff 1939-1945) sentenced to death petitioning the judges requesting they be shot rather than hanged; the request was denied.  Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) cheated the hangman by committing suicide shortly before he’s been due to be led to the gallows but previously had indicated he’d have accepted execution had it been by a firing squad on the basis that was “an honorable death for a soldier”; whether or not he’d any way have killed himself will never be known but his view was indicative of the way hangings are thought something for “common criminals”.  Some were more sanguine about their lives ending dangling from the hangman's, Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland) observing: “I expected it, I deserved it” but the most bizarre reaction to the dozen death sentences handed down came from a man who didn’t receive one.  Grand Admiral Erich Raeder (1876–1960; head of the German Navy 1928-1943) was given a life sentence and, his rationale being “better a quick death than a slow one”, requested he be shot.  On technical grounds (related to its authority to increase sentences) the IMT declined the offer and although it seems nowhere discussed, it’s assumed Raeder would have preferred to die in prison rather than undergo the indignity of being hanged.  As it was, in declining health, in 1955 he was released.

Three of the galleries at the Lindsay Lohan Retrospective by Richard Phillips (b 1962), Gagosian Gallery, 555 West 24th Street, New York, 11 September-20 October 2012.

Described by the artist as an installation, the exhibition was said to be "an example of the way Phillips uses collaborative forms of image production to reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format of these lush, large-scale works said to render them realist portraits of the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  The curator explained the retrospective was conducted as an example of the way collaborative forms of image production can reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format used to render them realist portraits of "...the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  That seemed to explain things.  Some of the images hung in the gallery come from Richard Phillips' short film Lindsay Lohan, hosted (courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery) on Vimeo.

Bad Teddy and Good Theodore: Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903), oil on canvas by Théobald Chartran (left) and Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903) oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US President 1901-1909), famous also for waging small wars and shooting big game, after being impressed by Théobald Chartran’s (1849–1907) portrait of his wife (Edith, 1861-1948), invited the French artist to paint him too.  So displeased was he with the result (which he thought made him look effete), he refused to hang the work.  Later, he would have it destroyed, turning turned instead to expatriate American artist John Singer Sargent (1856–1925).  The relationship didn’t start well as the two couldn’t agree on a setting and during one heated argument, the president suddenly, hand on hip, took on a defiant air while making a point and Sargent had his pose, imploring his subject not to move.  This one delighted Roosevelt and prominently it was hung in the White House.

Side by side: Portraits of Barak Obama (2011) and Donald Trump (2018), both oil on canvas by Sarah A Boardman, on permanent display, Gallery of Presidents, Third Floor, Rotunda, State Capitol Building, Denver, Colorado.

In March 2025 it was reported Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) was not best pleased with a portrait of him hanging in Colorado’s State Capitol; he damned the work as “purposefully distorted” and demanded Governor Jared Polis (b 1975; governor (Democratic) of Colorado since 2019) immediately take it down.  In a post on his Truth Social platform, Mr Trump said: “Nobody likes a bad picture or painting of themselves, but the one in Colorado, in the State Capitol, put up by the Governor, along with all the other Presidents, was purposefully distorted to a level that even I, perhaps, have never seen before.  The artist also did President Obama and he looks wonderful, but the one on me is truly the worst. She must have lost her talent as she got older.  In any event, I would much prefer not having a picture than having this one, but many people from Colorado have called and written to complain. In fact, they are actually angry about it!  I am speaking on their behalf to the radical left Governor, Jared Polis, who is extremely weak on crime, in particular with respect to Tren de Aragua, which practically took over Aurora (Don’t worry, we saved it!), to take it down. Jared should be ashamed of himself!”

At the unveiling in 2019 it was well-received by the Republicans assembled.  If FoxNews had on staff an art critic (the Lord forbid), she would have approved but presumably that would now be withdrawn and denials issued it was ever conferred.  

Intriguingly, it was one of Mr Trump’s political fellow-travellers (Kevin Grantham (b 1970; state senator (Republican, Colorado) 2011-2019) who had in 2018 stated a GoFundMe page to raise the funds needed to commission the work, the US$10,000 pledged, it is claimed, within “a few hours”.  Ms Boardman’s painting must have received the approval of the Colorado Senate Republicans because it was them who in 2019 hosted what was described as the “non-partisan unveiling event” when first the work was displayed hanging next to one of Mr Trump’s first presidential predecessor (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017), another of Ms Boardman’s commissions.  Whether or not it’s of relevance in the matter of now controversial portrait may be a matter for professional critics to ponder but on her website the artist notes she has “…always been passionate about painting portraits, being particularly intrigued by the depth and character found deeper in her subjects… believing the ultimate challenge is to capture the personality, character and soul of an individual in a two-dimensional format...”  Her preferred models “…are carefully chosen for their enigmatic personality and uniqueness...” and she admits some of her favorite subjects those “whose faces show the tracks of real life.”

Portrait of Winston Churchill (1954), oil on canvas by Graham Sutherland.  Never hung, the painting was later tossed onto a bonfire to be destroyed.

Another subject turned disappointed critic was Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955).  In 1954, a committee, funded by the donation of a 1000 guineas from members of both houses of parliament, commissioned English artist Graham Sutherland (1903–1980) to paint a portrait of the prime minister to mark his 80^th birthday.  The two apparently got on well during the sittings, Churchill himself a prolific, if undistinguished, amateur painter and it’s clear he enjoyed their discussions.  He was unimpressed though with the result, telling Sutherland that while he acknowledged his technical prowess, he found the work “not suitable”.  To his doctor he was less restrained, calling it "filthy" and "malignant".  Churchill was a realist about his abilities with the brush and when comparing his works with a few of painted by one of the detectives assigned to him, admitted the policeman's were "better than mine", sympathizing with the man that celebrity was valued more than skill.  Churchill in 1948 published the slim volume Painting as a Pastime which had first appeared as a two-part essay in the December 1921 & January 1922 editions of Strand magazine respectively titled Hobbies and Painting as a Pastime (both reprinted in Pall Mall magazine in 1925).  The pieces led something of an afterlife, excerpts over the next few years appearing in several periodicals before both were included in the anthology The Hundred Best English Essays (1929).  The author himself re-cycled the content (again in the Strand’s two part format) in Thoughts and Adventures (1932) and the single volume edition in 1948 appeared apparently at the instigation of Churchill’s US publisher who had decided his post-war notoriety was sufficient to stimulate interest in works then more than a quarter-century old.

Portrait of Laurence Olivier in the role of Richard III (1955), oil on canvas by Salvador Dalí, Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí (Gala-Salvador Dalí Foundation, Figueres, Spain).

It had been intended the painting would be hung in the House of Commons but Churchill had no intention of letting it be seen by anyone.  An unveiling ceremony had been arranged and Churchill demanded it not include the painting, relenting only when a compromise was arranged whereby both subject and artwork would appear together but rather than being hung in the Commons, it would instead be gifted to him to hang where he pleased.  Both sides appeased (if not pleased), the ceremony proceeded, Churchill making a brief speech of thanks during which he described his gift as “…a remarkable example of modern art..”, praise not even faint.  It was never hung, consigned unwrapped to the basement of the prime minister’s country house where it remained for about a year until Lady Churchill (Clementine, 1885–1977)), sharing her husband’s view of the thing, had a servant take it outside where it was tossed on a bonfire, an act of practical criticism Sutherland condemned as “vandalism”.  Not anxious to repeat the experience of his brush with modernism, Churchill declined the offer of a sitting before the Spanish surrealist Salvador Dalí (1904–1989), the result of which might have been interesting.  It's not known if Churchill ever saw Dali's interpretation of Laurence Olivier (1907-1989).

Two photographs of Winston Churchill (1941) by Yousuf Karsh.

Theodore Roosevelt’s pose is one favored by politicians but the expression adopted matters too.  The famous photograph taken in Ottawa in December 1941 by Armenian-Canadian Yousuf Karsh (1908-2002) was actually one of several but those where Churchill shows a more cheerful countenance are not remembered; they didn’t so well suit those troubled times.  The scowl, although immediately regarded as emblematic of British defiance of the Nazis, had a more prosaic origin, the photographer recalling his subject had appeared benign until it was insisted the ever-present Havana cigar be discarded lest it spoil the photograph.  That changed the mood but, the moment captured, he relented and permitted a couple more, including the now obscure ones with a smile.

Suffrage

Suffrage (pronounced suhf-rij)

(1) The right to vote, especially in a publicly contested, democratic elections; the franchise.

(2) The exercise of such a right; casting a vote.

(3) In ecclesiastical use, a prayer, especially a short intercessory prayer (especially those offered for the faithful dead) or a short petition (such as those after the creed in matins and evensong.

(4) Aid, intercession (now rare).

(5) Testimony; attestation; witness; approval (now rare).

(6) The collective opinion of a body of persons (archaic and probably extinct).

1350–1400: From the Middle English suffrage (intercessory prayers or pleas on behalf of another), from the thirteenth century Old French sofrage (plea, intercession), from the from Medieval Latin, from the Latin suffragium (voting tablet, a vote cast in an assembly (for a law or candidate), an act of voting or the exercise of the right to vote, the decision reached by a vote, an expression of approval, influence or promotion on behalf of a candidate), the construct being suffrag(ari) (genitive suffrāgiī or suffrāgī) (to express public support, vote or canvass for, support) + -ium (the noun suffix).  The –ium suffix (used most often to form adjectives) was applied as (1) a nominal suffix (2) a substantivisation of its neuter forms and (3) as an adjectival suffix.  It was associated with the formation of abstract nouns, sometimes denoting offices and groups, a linguistic practice which has long fallen from fashion.  In the New Latin, as the neuter singular morphological suffix, it was the standard suffix to append when forming names for chemical elements.  The derived forms included nonsuffrage, presuffrage, prosuffrage & antisuffrage (the latter a once well-populated field).  Suffrage, suffragist, suffragette, suffragettism & suffragent are nouns and suffraged is an adjective; the noun plural is suffrages.

The sense in English of “vote” or “right to vote” was derived directly from the Classical Latin and it came by the late nineteenth century to be used with modifiers, chosen depending on the campaign being advocated (manhood suffrage, universal suffrage, women's suffrage, negro suffrage etc and the forms were sometimes combined (universal manhood suffrage).  Because the case for women became the most prominent of the political movements, “suffrage” became the verbal shorthand (ie technically a clipping of woman suffrage).The meaning “a vote for or against anything” was in use by the 1530s and by the turn of the century this had assume the specific sense “a vote or voice in deciding a question or in a contest for office”.  By the 1660s, widely it was held to mean “act of voting in a representative government” and this is the origin of the modern idea of the franchise: “the political right to vote as a member of a body” codified in 1787 in the US US Constitution (in reference to the states).

Exercising her suffrage: Wearing “I voted” sticker, Lindsay Lohan leaves polling station after casting her vote in the 2008 US presidential election, West Hollywood, 4 November 2008.  In California, the Democratic ticket (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017) & Joe Biden (b 1942; US president 2021-2025) took gained all 55 electors in the Electoral College with 8,274,473 votes (61.01%) against the 5,011,781 (36.95%) gained by the Republican ticket (John McCain (1936–2018) & Sarah Palin (b 1964).

In zoology the suffrago (as a learned borrowing from Latin suffrāgō (the pastern, or hock)) describes the joint between the tibia and tarsus, such as the hock of a horse's hind leg or the heel of a bird.  Always rare (and now probably extinct), the companion term in clinical use was suffraginous, from the Latin suffraginosus (diseased in the hock), from suffrāgō, used in the sense of “of or relating to the hock of an animal”.  So, there’s an etymological relationship between English noun “suffrage” (in zoology, the joint between the tibia and tarsus) and “suffrage” (an individual's right to vote) and while there are many strange linkages in the language, that one seems weirder than most.  The anatomical term describes what is essentially the hock in quadrupeds (although it was used also of birds) and that was from the Classical Latin, suffrāgō (ankle-bone, hock or the part of the leg just above the heel) and traditionally, etymologists analyzed this as related to sub- (under) + a base meaning “break, fracture” or “support” although there were scholars who connected it with frag- (to break) from frangere (to break).  The functionalists weren’t impressed by that, suggesting it was a transferred anatomical term.

The Suffragist, 7 July, 2017.

Printed originally in 1913 as a single-sheet pamphlet, in November that year The Suffragist was first issued as weekly, eight-page tabloid newspaper, noted for its cover art which was a kind of proto-agitprop.  A classic single-issue political movement, the pamphlets had been produced by the CU (Congressional Union), an affiliate of the NAWSA (National American Woman Suffrage Association) but The Suffragist was an imprint of the CUWS (Congressional Union for Woman Suffrage), created (with a unique legal personage to avoid corporate liability) as a publicity and activist organ; in 1917 it became the NWP (National Woman's Party).  After its aims were in 1918 realised, The Suffragist ceased publication and the activists shifted their attention to the promotion of the ERA (Equal Rights Amendment), some which, more than a century on, has still not been ratified and has thus never been interpolated into the constitution.

Suffrage came ultimately from the suffrāgium (which had a number of senses relating to “voting”) writers from Antiquity documented their takes on the etymology.  In De lingua latina libri XXV (On the Latin Language in 25 Books), the Roman scholar Varro (Marcus Terentius Varro, 116–27 BC) held it arose metaphorically from suffrāgō (ankle-bone), the rationale being that votes originally were cast pebbles, sherds (now more commonly called “shards”) or other small tokens, possibly with astragali (knuckle or ankle-bones typically from sheep or goats) used like dice or counters.  Animal bones widely were used for many purposes, Pliny the Elder (24-79) in his encyclopaedic Naturalis historia (Natural History (37 thematic books in ten conceptual volumes)) noted people re-purposing astragali for tasks as diverse as teaching arithmetic, gambling, divination, or decision-making.  The Roman statesman Cicero (106-43 BC) seems not directly to have commented on the etymology, in his De Legibus (On the Laws) using suffrāgium in the common sense of “voting” & “vote” applied it also as a rhetorical device to suggest “support” so while not supporting the link with bones, nor does he contradict the popular notion that as an ankle-bone supports the human structure, votes support a candidate.

The Suffragist, 15 September, 1917.

The medieval grammarians also took an interest, Isidore of Seville (circa 560-636) covering all bases by noting (1) suffrāgium’s link with fragor (breaking) implied the idea of “breaking one’s voice” in approval (voting then often done in town squares “by the voice” and (2) the role of the ankle-bone in supporting the as a vote cast supports a proposition or candidate in an election.  Because only fragments of texts from thousands of years ago remain extant, it’s impossible to be emphatic about how such things happened but the consensus among modern etymologists appears to favour the purely metaphorical “support” rather than any use of bones as electoral tokens or calculation devices.  Better documented is the migration of suffrāgium to ecclesiastical use, entering Church Latin to use used to mean “prayers of intercession”; it was from here the English suffrage first entered the language.  As the Roman world Christianized, many words were re-purposed in a religious context and suffrāgium was picked up in the sense of “spiritual support”, manifested in prayers of intercession which originally were those offered for the “faithful dead”: in Confessiones (Confessions, 397-400), Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) wrote of suffragia sanctorum (the suffrages of the saints) by which he meant their intercessory prayers but, as was not uncommon, although the “masses for the dead” remained the standard, there was some theological mission creep and the prayers could assume a wider vista, extending also to the living.

Heartfelt advice in 1918 from a “suffragette wife” to young ladies contemplating marriage.

The Old French sofrage came directly from Church Latin, entering Middle English in the fourteenth century with suffrages being prayers of intercessions, often described as “petitions” to God or (in the case of specific topics) to the relevant saint or saints and “suffrage” seems to have entered the vernacular, Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) using the word merely as a synonym for “prayers” of whatever type.  Having thus arrived in the Church, the use was extended to the ecclesiastical structure, the first suffragan bishops appointed in the late 1500s, their role being a “bishop who assists another bishop” and the role seems to have been envisaged as something of a clerical plateau, intended as an appointment for one either “unsuitable” for an ordinary jurisdiction or with no desire to ascend the hierarchy.  The use came directly from the thirteenth century Old French suffragan, from the Medieval Latin suffraganeus (an assistant) which was a noun use of the adjective, (assisting, supporting) from the Latin suffragium (support).  The title endures to this day although between denominations there can be variations in the role (ie job description) including some being appointed as assistants to bishops while others directly administer geographical regions within a supervising bishop’s diocese.  That means the title alone does not describe the nature of the office and although a priest may be styled Diocesan bishop, Titular bishop, Coadjutor bishop, Auxiliary bishop or Suffragan Bishop, not all of the same type necessarily fulfil the same duties and there may be overlap.  While engaged in wartime cryptographic work for the UK government, the troubled mathematician Dr Alan Turing (1912-1954) became well-acquainted with the organizational structure of the British Army and was struck by the similarities between that institution and the Church of England as described in Anthony Trollope’s (1815-1882) The Chronicles of Barsetshire (published in a series of six novels between 1855-1867).  Ever the mathematician, Dr Turing devised a table, having concluded a lieutenant-colonel was a dean while a major-general was a bishop.  A brigadier was a suffragan bishop, the rational for that being they were the “cheapest kind of bishop”.

The Suffragist, 3 October, 1917.

It was the “re-discovery” of the Classical world (ironically often through the archives or writings of Islamic scholars) during the Renaissance and Reformation that Western scholars and translators re-visited the Latin sources, reviving the political sense of suffrāgium into English, restoring “vote” and “right to vote” alongside what had become the standard (religious) sense.  Even then, although there was in most places rarely a wide franchise, voting did happen (among a chosen few) and by the seventeenth century “suffrage” (a vote in an election) was part of common English use and in the 1700s & 1800s, as various forces began to coalesce into democratic movements, it assumed the meaning “a right to vote” which evolved gradually (via manhood suffrage, woman suffrage, negro suffrage etc) into the now familiar “universal adult suffrage”. In English, suffrage has thus enjoyed a palimpsestic past, its ancestral roots anatomical, adapted in antiquity for matters electoral, taken up in Christendom as a form of prayer before returning again with a use in democratic politics.

The most famous derived from was of course the noun suffragette which seems first to have been appeared in print in the UK in 1906, used as a term of derision (by a man).  It was an opportunist coining which can be deconstructed as a (etymologically incorrect) feminine form of the noun suffragist (an advocate of the grant or extension of political suffrage) but it owed its existence to the women who in the UK began to take militant action.  Whereas a suffragist might have been someone (male or female) who wrote learned letters on the subject to the editor of The Times, the suffragette chained herself to the railings outside Parliament House and engaged in other forms of civil disobedience with at least one fatality recorded.

The end of civilization as men knew it: Postcard marking the granting of voting rights to women by the colonial government in New Zealand (1893), printed & published in England by the Artist's Suffrage League, Chelsea, London.

Only four countries: New Zealand, Australia, Finland & Norway (and 11 US states) extended the franchise to women prior to World War I.  France (birthplace of “Liberté, égalité, fraternité”) denied women the vote until after World War II (1939-1945), Charles de Gaulle's (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) provisional government in Algiers granting “full suffrage” on 21 April 1944 with the first exercise of the right in the municipal elections of 29 April, 1945.  Swiss women gained the right to vote (at the federal level) in 1971, following a national referendum in which a majority approved the idea.  At the cantonal (regional) level, some cantons had earlier granted women voting rights, Vaud the first in 1959.  The last was Appenzell Innerrhoden which did so only to comply with a ruling by the Swiss Federal Supreme Court.

As the campaign stepped up, techniques were borrowed from anarchists and revolutionaries including fire-bombings of institutions of “the establishment”; if imprisoned, the suffragettes would stage hunger strikes compelling the home secretary to order either their release or force-feeding (a practice previously most associated with lunatic asylums).  Although the suffragettes generated international publicity and encouraged similar movements in other places, despite New Zealand having in 1893 having granted the vote to women on the same basis as men without the country having descended into some kind of feminized Hell, little progress was made and it was only the social and economic disruptions brought about by World War I which induced change, women over 30 able to vote in elections and be elected to parliament in 1918.  In 1928, this was extended to all women over 21, thus aligning their franchise with that which men had since 1918 enjoyed.  The 1928 settlement remains the classic definition of “universal suffrage” in the sense of “all adults” and all that has changed is the threshold age has been lowered to 18 although the UK government has suggested it will seek further to lower this to 16.  If that’s enacted, it’ll still be less permissive that what the ayatollahs (not usually thought paragons of liberalism) in Iran permitted during the 1980s when 15 year olds got the vote.

"Love, honor and obey" was a bride's traditional wedding vow but in the nuclear weapons treaty business between the US & USSR the principle was: "trust but verify".  

As the meme-makers knew, even after women voting became a thing, some husbands knew they still had to check to make sure their wives got it right:  Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) verifying the vote of Melania Trump (b 1970, US First Lady 2017-2021 and since 2025) while exercising her “secret ballot” in the 2016 US presidential election, Polling Station 59 (a school), Manhattan, New York, 8 November 2016.

The –ette suffix was from the Middle English -ette, a borrowing from the Old French -ette, from the Latin -itta, the feminine form of -ittus.  It was used to form nouns meaning a smaller form of something and the use in English to create informal feminine forms has long upset some, including Henry Fowler (1858–1933) who in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) condemned the formation of “suffragette”: “A more regrettable formation than others such as leaderette & flannelette, in that it does not even mean a sort of suffrage as they mean a sort of leader & of flannel, & therefore tends to vitiate the popular conception of the termination's meaning. The word itself may now be expected to die, having lost its importance; may its influence on word-making die with it!”  Whether one might read into that that damnation that Henry Fowler regretted women getting the vote can be pondered but to be fair, the old linguistic curmudgeon may have been a proto-feminist who approved.  There were anyway some reactionaries who became converted to the cause.  After a satisfactory election result, Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was reminded by his wife Clementine Churchill (1885–1977) that he’d received more votes from women than from men, having apparently been forgiven for having once been in the vanguard of the opposition to woman suffrage.  “Quite right”, cheerfully he agreed; a practical democrat, he by then welcomed votes regardless of their origin.

Woman Suffrage Headquarters, Euclid Avenue, Cleveland Ohio, 1912.

The word “suffrage” came by the late 1860s to be attached to activists advocating extending the franchise to women, “woman suffragist” & “female suffragist” both used in US publications and the divergence in the movement was reflected in the UK by the adoption of terms “manhood suffragist” (by at least 1866) and “woman suffragist” (by 1871) although the first reference of the latter was to actions in the US, the existence of the breed in England not acknowledged for a further three years.  Historically, both “woman suffrage” & “women's suffrage” were used but the former overwhelmingly was the standard phrasing late in the 1800s and into the next century when the matter became a great political issue.  To modern eyes “woman suffrage” looks awkwardly wrong but is grammatically correct, “woman” used as a noun adjunct (ie a noun modifying a following noun).  Singular noun adjuncts are common such as “student union” even though the in institution has a membership of many students.  In English, a singular noun can function attributively (like an adjective) to describe a category or class (manpower, horse racing etc).  The possessive (women’s suffrage) emphasizes ownership: the notion of suffrage (in the linguistic sense) “belonging” to women and in modern use that that appears to be the common form and “woman suffrage” was a formal, abstract construction from more exacting times, reflected in uses like “manhood suffrage”, “child labor”, “slave trade” etc.  In structural linguistics, the shift to a preference for possessive forms (workers’ unions, children’s rights, women’s movement etc) is thought a marker of the increasingly fashionable concepts of agency and belonging.

“Kaiser Wilson” protest sign criticizing Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921) for not keeping his 1916 election “promise” to fight for woman suffrage: “Have you forgotten your sympathy with the poor Germans because they were not self-governed?  20,000,000 American women are not self-governed.  Take the beam out of your own eye.”  The quote: “Take the beam out of your own eye” comes from Biblical scripture:

Matthew 7:3-5 (King James Version, (KJV, 1611))

3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?

5 Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.

What’s discussed in Matthew 7:3-5 is hypocrisy, the metaphor being a speck of dust in one’s brother's eye and a plank in one's own and the teaching is one should first rectify their own significant flaws (the “plank”) before criticizing the minor flaws of others (the “speck”).  What reading the passage should do is encourage humility and self-reflection, persuading individuals to acknowledge their own shortcomings before judging others.  The passage was part of the Sermon on the Mount, regarded by Christians as a central element in Christ’s moral teachings and Woodrow Wilson, the son of a preacher and himself a noted (if selective) moralist would have well acquainted with the text.

Watched by an approving comrade Vyacheslav Molotov (1890–1986; Soviet foreign minister 1939-1949 & 1953-1956), comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) casts his vote in the 1937 election for the Supreme Soviet.  To the left, Comrade Marshal Kliment Voroshilov (1881–1969) watches Comrade Nikolai Yezhov (1895–1940, head of the NKVD 1936-1938).

Those voting in 1937 may have had high hopes for the future because, read literally, the 1936 Constitution of the Soviet Union (adopted 5 December 1936) described a democratic utopia.  Unfortunately, within months, comrade Stalin embarked on his Great Purge and turned his country into a kind of combination of prison camp and abattoir, many of those involved in drafting the constitution either sent to the Gulag or shot.  In 1937 the CPSU (Communist Party of the Soviet Union) was declared to have won 99% of the vote so it was not an exceptional result but the photograph is unusual in that it’s one of the few in which the usually dour comrade Molotov is smiling.  It was comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924) who dubbed Molotov “stone ass” because of his famous capacity (rare among the Bolsheviks) to sit for hours at his desk and process the flow of paperwork the CPSU’s bureaucracy generated.  Precise in every way, Molotov would correct those who suggested Lenin’s moniker had been “iron ass” but, disapproving of “shameful bureaucratism”, he may have used several variants in the same vein and in another nod to Molotov’s centrality in the administrative machinery of government, he was known also as “comrade paper-clip”.

On paper, between 1936-1991, the Supreme Soviet was the highest institution of state authority in the Soviet Union (1922-1991) but was in reality a “rubber stamp parliament” which existed only to ratify, adding a veneer of legality to laws sent down by the executive, controlled exclusively by the CPSU although it was valued for photo-opportunities, enthralled delegates always seen attentively listening to comrade Stalin’s speeches.  On election night comrade Stalin was quoted in the Soviet press as saying: “Never in the history of the world have there been such really free and really democratic elections -- never!  History knows no other example like it...our universal elections will be carried out as the freest elections and the most democratic compared with elections in any other country in the world.  Universal elections exist and are also held in some capitalist countries, so-called democratic countries.  But in what atmosphere are elections held there?… In an atmosphere of class conflicts, in an atmosphere of class enmity.”  The statement often attributed to comrade Stalin: “It's not who votes that counts, it's who counts the votes” probably was apocryphal but indicative of how he did things and his psephological model has been an inspiration to figures such as Saddam Hussein (1937–2006; president of Iraq 1979-2003) and Kim Jong-Un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011).