Giving the middles, the Varoufakis finger furore

No, this isn't Finance Minister Yanis Varoufakis (the beard gives him away). This golden garden gnome's not even Greek, the cheeky chap is German. But the gesture, the dismissive middle finger greeting recognized as an insult through much of the world, is precisely the one on Varoufakis' mind just now.

With or without the complimentary gesture, this was the 2013 speech excerpt: "My proposal was that Greece should simply announce that it is defaulting - just like Argentina did - within the euro in January 2010 and stick the finger to Germany and say 'well, you can now solve this problem by yourself.'" Whether or not he stuck it, the finance minister (then a humble academic) surely said it.

Maybe there's a connection between money men and giving the middles? Merkel's last challenger to be chancellor, Social Democrat Peer Steinbrück, made his name with finances and figures. This interview with the Süddeutsche Zeitung - a regular fixture titled "say nothing just now," asking interviewees to mime their responses - did no favors for Steinbrück's still-born election challenge.

Stefan Effenberg's no fiscal politician, but he has made the back (and front) pages with his third digit, too. Fans were dissatisfied with the "Tiger" at the 1994 World Cup. When Effenberg was subbed off early, to jeers, he issued a response from the heart himself. Coach Bertie Vogts threw the midfieler out of the side; Varoufakis might benefit from studying a fellow tiger's experiences.

We might never catch Chancellor Angela Merkel flipping the bird, not least because her hands seem to be welded firm at her midriff. She's found her answer to a great oratorial conundrum: what to do with those wandering hands while speaking? This power pose, supposed to fire the neurons via the fingertips, is more recognizable than any past phrase uttered by Merkel, a forgettable speaker.

Varoufakis' German counterpart Wolfgang Schäuble is yet to be unearthed giving Greece, or anybody else, the finger; yet his critics in Athens might assert that he has done that by courtesy of his actions, not his gestures. In any case, Schäuble might easily be expressing the scope of his remaining patience with the Syriza government: "They've destroyed all of our trust," he said this week.

For better or worse, gestures can take root in our memories. Yet sometimes they're as baffling as they are emblematic. What message did disgraced Richard Nixon - just resigned in the Watergate aftermath in August 1974, the only US president ever to have done so - have in mind here? Why the big, broad, Churchill-inspired "victory" salute in his moment of submission?

Sometimes, people see what they want to see. In Michelangelo's "The Creation of Adam" it seems the mythical prototype for mankind is reaching out to touch his creator. Few would have objected, especially not to his outstretched finger. And nor should they, closer observers would surely point out it's his index finger stretching towards his deity's.

Neither Steven Spielberg's "ET" (The Extra-Terrestrial), nor young character Elliott really required admonishments to behave. ET's glowing finger was his first of three, an index finger even with the unusual count. As for the healing powers of this unearthly appendage, Varoufakis might benefit from them, if they can wipe away scandal like scrapes or bruises.

With his leather jacket and motorbike, Yanis Varoufakis does portray himself as a rebel. And the middle finger's easily found on stage, as rockers like the Rolling Stones would often show. Guitarist Keith Richards offers this particular rendition, but you might better recall Johnny Cash's legendary bird-flipping of 1969. Forget austerity, let's crank that debt up to 11. Rock 'n' Roll, Yanis!