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Cants And "Anti-Languages" — The Hidden World Of Secret Languages

Sometimes languages aren't meant to be understood. Secret codes and slang can insulate a marginalized community and keep outsiders scratching their heads.

Accents and dialects have been well studied and valued by linguists, but cants continue to be a mystery to most speakers — and some of that mystery is willful. Occasionally named cryptolects, argots or even anti-languages, cants represent the need of certain communities, many of them marginalized, to maintain secrecy and protect group dynamics in order to survive.

Perhaps the best example of a cant comes from those whom society considers criminals.


Also known as rogues’ cant or peddler’s French, thieves’ cant developed as a strategy by criminals to avoid being understood by officers of the law and society at large. The first written allusions surfaced in the 16th century and coincided with the Elizabethan era. Thomas Hartman, a 16th Century magistrate, left one of the first written testimonies of thieves’ cant, which he amassed by offering money and food to beggars in exchange for information on their cryptolect. In 1811, a full lexicon of thieves cant was published; the Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue: A Dictionary of Buckish Slang, University Wit and Pickpocket Eloquence includes words such as "cloy" (steal) and "game" (robbery) alongside "jail bird" (prisoner) and "pig" (officer of the law), the latter two of which are still used to this day colloquially and informally.

A short Thieves’ cant glossary

  • Bawd: a prostitute
  • Birds of a feather: rogues of the same gang
  • Fagger: a small boy passed through a window in order to open the door to a house
  • Flog: whip
  • Hike: to run away
  • Lift: steal
  • Palaver: a tale told in order avoid blame for a crime
  • Pound: prison
  • Prig: thief
  • Rap: taking a false oath
  • Rascal: rogue or villain
  • Rat: an informer
  • Shoplifter: one who steals from a shop
  • Sham: a trick
  • Slang: thieves’ cant
  • To squeak: to confess
  • Swag: booty

Though many words survive, and new words have entered the lexicon of the criminal underworld, the cant is no longer used as it once was. But, the legacy of thieves’ cant lives on in people’s desire to escape the constraints of mainstream society’s policing or demarcate their own communities. The following argots are direct and indirect descendants of thieves’ cant and their lexical dynamic mirrors the same intention to escape decoding by outsiders.


The church of St Mary-le-Bow in the East End of London is the epicenter of cockney culture — or at least it used to be. The area that saw cockney rhyming slang come to life in the 19th century has been taken over by a myriad of cultures from all over the globe and no longer speaks exclusively in the nasal tones and glottal stops of Michael Caine or Adele. But it still tells the history of a subculture that developed its own cant. Cockney rhyming slang was a lingo created to prevent its speakers from being understood by outsiders.

It plays with shortened and absent rhymes. For instance, "face" rhymes with "boat race," but we remove the word "race" and keep "boat." Now, instead of falling on my face — or my "boat race" — I have fallen on my boat. Another example: instead of saying "He is on the phone," substitute "phone" for a rhyme and say, "He is on the dog and bone." But after dropping the "bone" we are left with "dog," resulting in, "He is on the dog."

Here is a small list of cockney rhyming slang:

They never do anything, just rabbit! rabbit and pork talk
My plates are killing me! plates of meat feet
My trouble phoned me yesterday. trouble and strife wife
She’s my skin. skin and blister sister
He’s my treacle. treacle tart sweetheart
Have you got any Veras? Vera Lynn (famous singer) “gin” or “skin” (cigarette paper)
I’ve just bought an expensive whistle! whistle and flute suit


Sexually marginalized subgroups can develop their own lingo, but a full cant with mainstream recognition developed in England and infiltrated popular culture in the 20th century. Named Polari – and occasionally Parlari (from the Italian "to speak") – Polari’s origins are convoluted and possibly older than many assume. We can say with certainty that it became a noticeable cultural phenomenon in the 1800s, peaking in the twentieth century between the trial of Oscar Wilde and the 1960s and finally dwindling in the 1970s.

Polari has also been associated with the merchant navy, travellers and circus people, but some authors distinguish between Parlyaree and Polari, the latter exclusively spoken by the gay community, which used it to shield itself from mainstream society’s policing and censorship. It borrowed and adapted words from Italian, Yiddish, English (including dialects such as cockney slang), circus and gypsy slang.

Polari can’t be described as a dialect or idiom since it basically consists of words being substituted for others. For instance, the phrase "How bona to vada your dolly old eek!" means "How lovely to see your pretty old face!", with bona standing for good/lovely, vada for see, dolly for pretty/pleasant and eek for face. This exotic mix of words and terms could be heard on "Round the Horne," a BBC radio comedy show that included the characters Julian and Sandy, played by the actors Hugh Paddick and Kenneth Williams. The show juggled heavily with camp innuendo, with the two gay actors playing outrageously flamboyant characters. The audience became slowly familiar with the lingo, leading to Polari’s surfacing from the underground into the mainstream. It was precisely at that moment that it was superseded by a liberationist gay culture. Homosexuality was made legal in England in 1967 and with it came a new open culture of sexual assertiveness and visibility. Polari, once a survival strategy for an entire community, had lost its raison d’être. It needed to be dropped, contaminated as it was with stereotypical bitchiness and a culture of masquerading and shame. (Not that shame disappeared altogether, it simply morphed into more subtle manifestations.)

Decades have passed since Polari fell into disuse, and whereas baby boomers were eager to leave it behind, a newfound interest by millenials has asserted itself, with clubs such as Madame JoJo’s in London motivating their staffs to use Polari with the patrons. It dispels any notions that there is/was no such thing as a gay culture and that language is merely the product of powerful social groups. Even a controversial term such as "chav" allegedly has its origins in the Romani "chavvie," which means "child," a part of Polari lingo.

Polari has also been described as an anti-language. Anti-languages are not only vessels for codified and secretive communication, which we could call cryptolects, they are also a linguistic strategy of identitarian demarcation. Polari’s lexicon includes a critique of institutions and their representatives (police officers and the law) as well as opposing groups (heterosexuals) and religious systems entrapped in their acidic tones. If Polari’s poisonous tongue is something you find appealing, there are apps online you can download which will help you learn the argot. Polari seems to be part of a contemporary cultural movement intent on reclaiming old or lost culture and reviving long lost rituals. Or maybe it’s merely the fetishization of difference rearing its dubious head again.

Whatever point of view you take, now you know what the title of that Morrissey album actually means!

Some useful Polari words

  • bona: good
  • drag: clothes
  • vada: see
  • eek: face
  • dolly: pretty, pleasant
  • riah: hair
  • slap: make-up
  • fantabulosa: fantastic + fabulous
  • dish: gossip or attractive
  • handbag: money


French has also developed its own cants, the most (in)famous of them named Verlan. Verlan is an argot that reverses syllables to create a broken mirror image of the French language.

Verlan is associated with adolescents and young adults in the suburbs of Paris, the banlieues, where immigrants and the working class live. Its method, however, can’t be described as new or original. Gottfried von Strassburg, the 12th century autor of "Tristan," an adaptation of the 12th century "Tristan and Iseult" legend, is a good contender for the title of "originator." In his version, Tristan travels to Ireland undercover, identifiying himself as Tantris, a syllabic reversal of his true name. (Tris-tan -> Tan-tris). A few centuries later, the notion finally caught on!

The first recorded version of Verlan with communal and not just individual use harks back to imprisoned criminals in 19th century France who used the cant to communicate amongst themselves and avoid detection by officers and authority figures. By the 1970s, it gravitated out of the prison system into the banlieues and adopted by rap groups. It only became common currency in youth culture in the 1980s, when less privileged adolescents and young adults began using it to communicate amongst themselves.

The word itself is a result of inverting l’envers (backwards) into vers-l’en, streamlined into verlan for greater spelling ease. Verlan not only twisted old words into new ones, it actually changed their meanings. For instance, femme (woman) was turned into meuf (me + fem → mef (em) → meuf). Well, maybe this is not the most obvious of examples, but ma meuf is now used to refer to "my girlfriend" or "my girl," whereas ma femme is now mostly used to mean "my wife".

Another example from a word that has gained common currency: ouf, the verlan of fou (crazy). If your night out was a spectacle of decadence, you can describe it as ouf; it’s enough to state how insane it was. And if it brought you much heartache and chagrin, you can say it left you vénère (énervè → "annoyed").

zarbi bizarre bizarre
laisse béton laisse tomber drop it/forget it
chelou louche shady/weird
relou lourd “heavy” (an annoying person)
chanmé méchant awesome, amazing (whereas “méchant” means “mean”)
ripou pourri rotten
beur arabe Arab
teuf fête party

But a strange thing has happened to Verlan. Ever since it surfaced and some words became mainstream, it lost its edge. So, re-verlan took over! Now some words are reversed again (!) in an attempt to keep them sharp and spiky!

arabe beur rebeu Arab
flic keuf feuck cop (police officer)

Re-verlan is an attempt to keep the culture one step ahead of assimilation. But, it’s hard when the Internet keeps revealing underground culture at the click of a search engine, and when googling rebeu regurgitates a myriad of results — not all of them SFW!

One would assume all words could be subjected to this cant, but not everything is acceptable Verlan. For instance, a famous ad by SNCF in France included the tagline c’est blessipo, the Verlan of c’est possible ("it’s possible"). It failed miserably, since nobody would actually say that.

Whatever you might think about cants — do they destroy the purity of a tongue or enrich it? — they will remain a part of language as long as subgroups, subcultures and creativity exist.

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