The January, 1881 issue of Gentleman’s Magazine thought it would be helpful to explain that “We call it Jingoism in England; in France it is called Chauvinism; and in the United States, Bunkum.” Interesting, at least, that both “jingoism” and “chauvinism” are still in use, but the US alternative — or at least what Gentleman’s Magazine thought it was — is a word that hasn’t been heard or seen in decades.
All three words meant about the same thing; exaggerated nationalism accompanied by loud bluster and, if not full-on xenophobia, at least formulaic intolerance. “Chauvinism” is indeed French, and comes from Nicolas Chauvin of Rochefort, who was (probably) a soldier in the First Republic and the Empire (French history, by the way, is fascinating, even though people in the US generally don’t know much about it). Chauvin — who may or may not have really existed — was known, and then ridiculed, for over-the-top nationalism. A character named “Chauvin” was written into a popular comic vaudeville act, and “Chauvinism” became applied generally to people “smitten with an absurd patriotism.”
“Bunkum” was originally part of the phrase “talking to Bunkum”, which arose in the early 1800s. This word, too, is based on a name; in this case Buncombe County in North Carolina. There was a debate in the US Congress about the “Missouri question,” which had to do with whether to admit the Missouri territory as a new state. The controversy was about slavery, and where it was going to be allowed. Anyway, the representative from North Carolina whose district included Buncombe County insisted on giving a long speech. It seems everybody in the chamber was trying to get him to shut up, but he refused on the basis that he was “making a speech for Buncombe.”
It wasn’t long before “talking to Buncombe” started appearing in the press: “‘Talking to Bunkum!’—This is an old and common saying at Washington, when a member of Congress is making one of those..‘long talks’ which have lately become so fashionable.” “Bunkum” had already lost its original spelling, then lost its capitalization around 1850, and by 1856 was reduced to just the word itself: “Rather meant as a piece of bunkum for his countrymen, than as a serious exposition of policy.”
“Jingoism” is much older than the other two words, and has nothing to do with any names, but it does have an odd origin story. It originated in the 1600s as an exclamation used by magic acts in fairs. Where a magician might today say abracadabra, at that time and place (England), yelling by jingo was the thing to do when the rabbit appeared from the hat. Or, well, you know what I mean.
By the 1800s by jingo had lost its association with conjuring, and was just a way to add emphasis. “By jingo, there’s not a pond or slough within five miles of the place but they can tell the taste of.” It was used in the chorus of a popular music hall song in the 1870s, and then around 1878 the song was adopted by a political party (probably not a formal party, it was more of a “movement”) advocating a war with Russia over Russian advances into Turkey. Lord Beaconsfield (Benjamin Disraeli) became Prime Minister and managed a diplomatic solution to the problem instead (which also, by the way, involved England and the Suez canal, another bit of history US schools usually omit). This did not please “the jingoes.” The next year, this was published: “The Jingoes ought to rejoice and be glad that their ‘tall talk’ did not drive us into a war with Russia last year.”
Although “jingoism” doesn’t come from a name, it’s occasionally used as if it did: “Nobody..could be less given to the worship of Jingo.” But it’s worth returning to that 1881 issue of Gentleman’s Magazine for the final disposition of jingos and their ism: “The Jingo is the aggregation of the bully. An individual may be a bully; but, in order to create Jingoism, there must be a crowd.”
