call for papers-Metamorphosis of the Arab World-Political Geography and Alternative Maps
by barış çoban
Metamorphosis of The Arab World:
Political Geography and Alternative Maps
Editors: Barış Çoban, Barış Erdoğan
The so-called "Arab Spring", recent social movements in the Arab world, which can also be described as the "return of the oppressed", have attracted international attention on the Middle East and Arab world. The Middle East, North Africa and Turkey have been profoundly affected by this political and social metamorphosis. The objective of this project is to discuss “metamorphosis of the Arab world” in the context of international relations, politics, sociology, economics and communications and so on by the contribution of several academicians, researchers, politicians and journalists.
The geography of the Arab world is in a process of metamorphosis and consequently traditional structure of the Arab world, its power structure, power relations, politics and social relations have been fluctuated by the hand of the global super power(s). In fact, “All that is solid melts into air", this expression summarizes clearly what is happening in the Middle East and North Africa. The possible outcomes and/or result of this ongoing process are vague, and it needs to be discussed with its all aspects.
As a result, our focus is on “metamorphosis” of the Middle East and the Arab world, since it simultaneously means “metamorphosis” of the world. This book project aims to address and discuss transformation and subsequent reformation of societies and changes in the political geographies and mental maps of the Middle East, North Africa and Turkey from past to present with a multi-voice and multi-layer approach.
(Papers can be submitted in English, French and Turkish)
Deadline for Abstracts: June 10, 2012
Deadline for Full Paper: December 25, 2012
(Please use APA style)
E-mail:
barishc@gmail.com
baris.erdogan1974@hotmail.com,
Editors:
Barış Çoban (Assoc. Prof. Dr., Department of Communication Studies, Dogus University, Turkey)
Barış Erdoğan (Assist Prof. Dr., Department of Political Sciences, Yeni Yuzyil University, Turkey)
Métamorphose du monde arabe:
Géographie politique et des cartes alternatives
Editeurs: Barış Çoban, Barış Erdoğan
Les mouvenents sociaux recents apparus dans une large partie du monde arabe, appellés communement «printemps arabe», peuvent également être décrit comme le «retour de l'opprimé», ont attiré l'attention internationale sur le Moyen-Orient et le monde arabe. Le Moyen-Orient, l'Afrique du Nord et la Turquie ont été profondément touchés par cette métamorphose politique et sociale. L'objectif de ce projet est de discuter «la métamorphose du monde arabe » dans le contexte des relations internationales, politique, sociologie, économie et communication et ainsi de suite par les biais de la contribution de plusieurs universitaires, chercheurs, politiciens et journalistes.
La géographie du monde arabe est dans un processus de métamorphose et par conséquent la structure traditionnelle du monde arabe, sa structure de pouvoir, les relations de pouvoir, la politique et les relations sociales se sont gravement écroulés par la main de la(des) puissance(s) mondiale(s). En fait, «Tout ce qui est solide se dissout dans l'air", cette expression résume bien ce qui se passe au Moyen-Orient et Afrique du Nord. Les résultats possible et / ou résultat de ce processus en cours sont vagues, et ils doivent être discuté dans tous ses aspects.
Par conséquent, nous nous concentrons sur la métamorphose du Moyen-Orient et du monde arabe, puisqu'elle constitue à la fois la métamorphose du monde. Ce projet a pour objectif d'aborder et discuter de la transformation et la réforme de ces sociétés ainsi que les modifications de la géographie politique et cartes mentales du Moyen-Orient , de l'Afrique du Nord et de la Turquie du passé au présent, avec un multi-voix et une approche multicouche.
Transmission des propositions et date limite
Vorte propositions doit etre transmise a baris.erdogan1974@hotmail.com ou barishc@gmail.com au plus tard le 10 juin 2012. Les articles peuvent être rédigés en anglais, français ou en turc
ECHEANCIERS
- Date limite de réception des propositions : 10 juin 2012
- Date limite de réception des articles : 25 décembre 2012
Information technique
Les propositions, d’un maximum de deux pages, en format Microsoft Word ou PDF, 12 points, devront contenir: le titre de la proposition; le sujet; le nom de l’auteur ou des auteurs; l’institution ou organisation à laquelle vous êtes attaché
Articles
- les articles ne pourront dépasser, avec leur bibliographie, 30 000 caractères, espaces non compris;
- ils devront inclure un résumé de 150 mots maximum qui devra être présenté en français, en anglais ou en turque;
Editeurs :
Dr. Barış Çoban, maitre de conférence, le département de communication, l’Universite de Doğuş, Turquie.
Dr. Barış ERDOGAN, maitre de conférence adjoint, le département des relations internationales l’Université de Yeni Yüzyıl, Turquie.
Arap Dünyasının Dönüşümü:
Siyasetin Coğrafyası ve Alternatif Haritalar
Editörler: Barış Çoban, Barış Erdoğan
Arap ülkelerinde yaşanan ve “Arap Baharı” olarak adlandırılan, “bastırılmış olanın geri döndüğü” kitle hareketleri sonrasında tüm dünyanın gözü yeniden Ortadoğu ve diğer Arap ülkelerine odaklandı. Ortadoğu, Kuzey Afrika ve Türkiye yaşanan siyasal ve toplumsal bu dönüşümden derin bir biçimde etkilenmekte. Bu sürecin uluslararası ilişkiler, siyaset, sosyoloji, ekonomi ve iletişim vb. alanları bağlamında tartışılmasını amaçlayan bu kitap projesi, farklı disiplinlerden akademisyen, araştırmacı, siyasetçi ve gazetecilerin katkılarından oluşacaktır.
Söz konusu coğrafyada bir yılı aşkın bir süredir küresel iktidar(lar)ın da farklı biçimlerde müdahil olduğu toplumsal hareketler geleneksel iktidar yapılarını, siyaset biçimlerini ve toplumsal ilişkileri parçalamakta. Ortadoğu ve Kuzey Afrika’da “katı olan her şey buharlaşmakta”. Bu coğrafyada kurulma aşamasında olan yeni düzende siyasi ve sosyal aktörlerin bu buharlaşmanın ardından nasıl bir katılaşma süreci izleyeceği ise şimdilik belirsiz ve üzerinde çok boyutlu olarak düşünülmesi gereken bir konu.
Sonuç olarak, odak noktamız Ortadoğu’nun ve Arap Dünyasının dönüşümüdür, çünkü bu dönüşüm eşzamanlı olarak dünyanın dönüşümüdür. Bu kitap projesi Ortadoğu, Kuzey Afrika ve Türkiye coğrafyası bağlamında tarihten günümüze siyasal ve zihinsel haritaların değişimi ve toplumların dönüşümünü çoksesli, çok katmanlı bir yaklaşımla ele almayı ve tartışmayı amaçlamaktadır.
(Makaleler Türkçe, İngilizce, Fransızca dillerinde yazılabilir)
Makale Başlığı ve Özeti Gönderimi Son Tarih: 10 Haziran 2012
Tamamlanmış Makale Gönderimi Son Tarih: 25 Aralık 2012
(Makaleler APA formatına göre yazılacaktır.)
İletişim:
barishc@gmail.com
baris.erdogan1974@hotmail.com
(Barış Çoban, Doç. Dr. Doğuş Üniversitesi, Fen-Edebiyat Fakültesi, İletişim Bilimleri Bölümü)
(Barış Erdoğan, Yrd. Doç. Dr., Yeni Yüzyıl Üniversitesi, İktisadi İdari Bilimler Fakültesi, Uluslararası İlişkiler Bölümü)
call for papers-
Metamorphosis of the Arab World-
Political Geography and Alternative Maps
Metamorphosis of the Arab World-
Political Geography and Alternative Maps
Métamorphose du monde arabe:
Géographie politique et des cartes alternatives
Arap Dünyasının Dönüşümü:
Siyasetin Coğrafyası ve Alternatif Haritalar
Download (.doc) New Perspectives on the Sociology of the Arab Spring - mark II
Published on TheGWPost, 01/12/2011
This is a follow-up article (mark II) to “The Sociology of the Arab Spring: A Revolt or a Revolution?”, which took a... more This is a follow-up article (mark II) to “The Sociology of the Arab Spring: A Revolt or a Revolution?”, which took a sociological approach in explaining the Arab uprisings, that spread throughout the Middle East since the end of the last year, and reached a conclusion on whether the Arab Spring consists of revolts or revolutions.
Israel and Hamas: A new equation for Mid-East peace?
By James M. Dorsey
Synopsis
Israeli and Palestinian hardliners rather than moderates are... more
By James M. Dorsey
Synopsis
Israeli and Palestinian hardliners rather than moderates are serving each other's purpose in the Middle East conflict. That is the underlying dynamic of the political calculations of both Israel and Hamas in the recent lop-sided swap of an Israeli soldier for over a thousand Palestinian prisoners.
Commentary
THE ISRAELI-PALESTINIAN peace process remains frozen with little, if any, prospect of it gaining momentum. President Mahmoud Abbas' effort to achieve United Nations recognition of Palestinian statehood in a bid to break the logjam is mired in diplomatic red tape and likely to be foiled by a United States
veto if it comes up for a vote in the Security Council.
True to form, hardliners on both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian divide are finding common ground where moderates are grasping for straws. In doing so, they are reaffirming a long-standing fact of life of the Israeli-Palestinian equation: hardliners can serve each other’s needs to mutual benefit without making the kind of wrenching concessions that thwart the ambitions of
peacemakers and moderates on both sides.
The prisoner swap in which Israel bought freedom for now Staff Sergeant Gilad Shalit after five years in Palestinian captivity in exchange for the release of 1,027 prisoners - many of whom were responsible for deadly attacks on Israelis - is the latest example of sworn enemies finding it easier to do business than those who advocate compromise and living in peace and harmony side by
side.
No peace works for all
Underlying, the swap is a belief on the part of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Hamas that there is no realistic chance for an agreement on peace terms that would be acceptable to both Palestinians and Israelis. Given the nature of his coalition government, Netanyahu has so far been unwilling or unable to give Abbas the bare minimum he would need to push forward with peace without at least the tacit backing of Hamas.
While Netanyahu officially refuses to negotiate with Hamas, for its part, Hamas refuses Israeli conditions for its inclusion in a peace process. These are that it recognises Israel's right to exist, abandons its armed struggle and accepts past Israeli-Palestinian agreements. If anything, the fact that it has achieved a
tangible victory with the release of prisoners belonging to both Hamas as well as Abbas' Fatah movement has reinforced the Islamist movement’s conviction that its hard line is paying off.
Netanyahu has strengthened Hamas in its conviction not only by excluding Abbas from the prisoner swap. He has also done so by undermining the Palestinian president with his decision to build a new Jewish settlement on the southern edge of Jerusalem and granting legal status to settlements established without his government’s approval. Abbas has made an Israeli freeze on settlements his core pre-condition for revival of peace talks with
the Israelis, to no avail.
Temporary arrangements suit all but Abbas
Unlike Abbas, Netanyahu has made his most hardline critics part of his coalition. Netanyahu and Israel’s right-wing moreover agree on fundamentals: a rejection of an Israeli return to the borders prior to the 1967 conquest of the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem and a perception of a nuclear-armed Iran as the foremost threat to the existence of the Jewish state. Hamas rather than Abbas offers Netanyahu the space to build Israeli policy on those two principles. Hamas’ refusal to meet Israeli conditions for peace negotiations proves the Israeli prime minister’s assertion that Israel has no Palestinian partner with
which it can do business.
At the same time, Hamas has proven that it can and will
make temporary arrangements with Israel like the prisoner swap or a ceasefire that safeguards Israeli towns from Palestinian rocket attacks.
Hamas has moreover, contributed its bit to weakening Abbas by effectively thwarting the Palestinian leader’s efforts at reconciliation so that Palestinians can confront Israel with a unified front.
The possibility of Hamas’ external wing moving its headquarters from Syria, Iran’s closest ally in the Arab world, to post-Mubarak Egypt, which facilitated the prisoner swap, further serves Netanyahu’s purpose of clearing the deck for possible pre-emptive military action against Iran. Lingering in the background is uncertainty of what Israel’s immediate neighbourhood
may look like. Syrian president Bashar al-Assad is battling for his survival with no sign of the eight months of mass anti-government protests subsiding despite a brutal crackdown. Jordan’s King Abdullah has so far been able to contain demands for political reform and greater economic opportunity.
Israeli military: the joker in the pack
Ironically, Israel’s military and former senior Israeli military commanders constitute the greatest threat to Netanyahu’s policy designs and may offer Hamas its best chance yet of becoming a player in peace talks with Israel as well as the dominant force in Palestinian politics. While Israel’s military
appears split on the prospect of a pre-emptive strike against Iran, at least half of the retired leaders of Israel’s military and intelligence services have publicly rejected Netanyahu’s strategic thinking.
Perhaps, most vocal among them is Meir Dagan, a former head of Mossad, who has not only criticised Netanyahu’s hard line toward Iran but also called for Israeli acceptance of a nine-year old Saudi peace plan endorsed by all Arab states. That peace plan offers Israel full diplomatic relations in exchange for a
complete withdrawal from Palestinian lands occupied in 1967.
No doubt Dagan, Hamas’ nemesis who is credited with the death of hundreds of its operatives, has political ambitions as well as the military credentials that Netanyahu lacks. His willingness to entertain the Saudi proposal would open the door to Hamas to take its seat at the table. That could well lead to a new chapter in Israeli-Palestinian relations.
James M. Dorsey is a Senior Fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Nanyang Technological University. He has been a journalist covering the Middle East for over 30 years.
Algerian stadiums: hotbeds of anti-government protest
By James M. Dorsey
Mass anti-government protests have for now fizzled out on the streets of Algerians towns... more
By James M. Dorsey
Mass anti-government protests have for now fizzled out on the streets of Algerians towns and cities but are alive and kicking in the country’s soccer stadiums where football fans regularly take on President Abdelaziz Bouteflika, the military and the Islamists.
"Being in a crowd makes us forget our fears. We know that the police can’t do anything, while if we said just half of these things in the street, we would be arrested right away. Stadiums are the only place where we can express our fury," France 24 quoted Amine T., a supporter of popular Algiers club Union Sportive de la Medina d'Alger (USMA), as saying.
Nicknamed Msam’iyas’, women who sing at weddings because of their 23-year old tradition of turning popular melodies into protest songs, the USMA fans chant: “Bouteflika is in love with his throne, he wants another term."
The chant refers to allegations that President Abdulaziz Bouteflika is behind a spate of recent bombings in a bid to enhance his chances of re-elections in polls scheduled for next year by raising the specter of a threat by Al Qaeda’s North African affiliate, Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM).
http://youtu.be/J6BtlfEH-ps
"Our songs focus on current events, on politics and the economy. We sing about politicians, about security, about terrorist attacks. We criticise the current government as well as the extremists of the (outlawed) Islamic Salvation Front. We also criticise the high cost of living in Algeria and the privileges enjoyed by the country’s elite, who send their children abroad to study while so many young Algerians are unemployed and live in poverty," Amine T. said.
In a region dominated by autocratic rulers, Algeria is among the most advanced in encouraging the emergence of soccer as a professional sport. As a result of the regime's reduced involvement in the sport, soccer fans have a tacit understanding with authorities under which they can say what they like as long as they keep their protests confined to the stadium.
"It’s not so much our slogans that worry the authorities, it’s how many of us there are. For example, when riots erupted in the Algiers neighbourhood of Bab el-Oued earlier this year, the Algerian Football Federation temporarily suspended matches. They did this because they were worried that if the police couldn’t control a few dozen youths in the street, they certainly wouldn’t be able to control 60,000 football fans leaving a stadium. I think that the authorities don't actually have a problem with our chants: if we get our anger out inside the stadium, then that’s it, we don’t cause any trouble outside," Amine T. said.
The question is how long the protests will remain within the confines of the stadium. The chanting comes as the focus in the wake of the downfall of Libyan leader Moammar Qaddafi shifts to whether Algeria military-dominated government could be the next to succumb to the mass anti-government protests sweeping the Middle East and North Africa.
Discontent with the government pervades the country with small protests inside and outside the stadium occurring on a daily scale over the lack of water, housing, electricity or calling for higher wages. A quarter of the population lives under the poverty line and unemployment is rampant.
Many Algerians however are wary of open confrontation. They recall the early 1990s when the military stepped in to cancel elections and squash burgeoning political freedoms because Islamists were emerging as a major force. Mass protests in 1988 in which some 500 people were killed had forced the military to legalise political parties and allow for free and fair elections. But when the Islamic Salvation Front (FIS) emerged victorious from the first round of polling in 199, the generals stepped in sparking a decade-long civil war in which some 200,000 people were killed that has left the country deeply divided.
Memories of the bloodletting coupled with increased subsidies and public sector wages and a lifting of the long-standing state of emergency have so far enabled the government to avert the sustained mass protests that toppled the leaders of Egypt and Tunisia, sparked a NATO-backed victory in Libya and threaten to force the embattled presidents of Syria and Yemen out of office.
Reinforcing the government's understanding with the soccer fans and the success of its efforts to buy off discontent is the fact that the Arab revolt has so far produced mixed results. The fall of Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak has resulted in political turmoil rather than economic progress while Libya, Syria and Yemen are racked by violence.
The military's reassertion of behind-the-scenes control despite 74-year old President Bouteflika's promises of political reforms ahead of next year's parliamentary elections coud however well turn the tables. Mr. Bouteflika, whose health is failing, has lost several of his closest associates over the past year as a result of a military-inspired corruption investigation.
The military's inclination to reinforce the state's role in the economy is thwarting Mr. Bouteflika's efforts to attract foreign investment and diversify the economy. A return to the very policies that brought protesters on to the streets of Algerian cities early this year could well again tip the balance.
"The country is on the edge of an explosion, the regime has only held on by spending billions, but for how long? This is just a postponement," said Sherif Arbi, a pro-democracy activist, on the day the protest didn't happen.
"The chanting of the fans in stadia has continued to replicate the political siituation," adds Loughborough University professor Mahfoud Amara, writing in the July edition of The Journal of North African Studies. "Football is becoming one of the few (allowed) spaces for people to express their frustrations overt the socio-economic and political conditions.
James M. Dorsey is a senior fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies at Singapore's Nanyang Technological University and the author of the blog, The Turbulent World of Middle East Soccer.
An Arab Development Bank: Institutionalising Change in Middle East
Autocratic regimes and pro-democracy protesters in the Middle East and North Africa agree on the need for sustainable economic growth and integration into a globalised world. To achieve that, the region needs an Arab Development Bank like the development engines in Asia, Africa and Latin America.
By James M. Dorsey
TEN MONTHS into a wave of popular protests that are reordering the ... more
By James M. Dorsey
TEN MONTHS into a wave of popular protests that are reordering the Middle East and North Africa, the international community has yet to formulate a coherent, region-wide response to the shaping of the new realities that have buried long-standing assumptions and certainties. With the overthrow of three autocratic leaders in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya this year and the embattled presidents of Syria and Yemen teetering on the brink of demise, almost every other country in the region has been swept along by the tidal wave of protests.
Foreign powers – the United States, Europe, China and Russia – have responded ad hoc to the succession of crises rather than viewing them as a groundswell of demand for change that will shape the region’s political map for a decade to come.
To be sure, the world’s powers have different perspectives on the popular push for greater freedom and more economic opportunity. Moreover, the situation differs from country to country.
Nonetheless, if there is one thing all, including the protesters, agree on, it is the need for development that promotes sustainable economic growth, creates jobs for the region’s huge youth bulge, strengthens the private sector and particularly small and medium enterprises, and integrates the region into an increasingly globalised world.
A regional engine for development
To do so, the region needs an Arab Development Bank much like the engines of growth in Asia, Africa and Latin America that function as coordinating operation centres and knowledge hubs. Creation of such an institution may be one of the few things that all parties – world powers with mutually exclusive agendas, embattled Arab leaders and emerging post-revolt governments – can agree on.
The region has the necessary building blocks: funding from the oil-rich Gulf states, a pool of indigenous talent and institutional models like the Asian Development Bank (ADB), the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD) and the International Finance Corporation (IFC).
Cooperation in the creation of an Arab Development Bank could help shift the basis on which world powers seek to find common ground on ways to halt the bloodshed in countries like Syria and Yemen and respond to the likely eruption of violence elsewhere in the region as the popular revolts spread.
Fuelling the popular revolts is the fact that two thirds of the Arab world’s 300 million people are under the age of 29 in a region with an average youth unemployment rate of 40 per cent. According to the World Bank, Arab nations need to create some 100 million jobs in the next eight years. However Arab governments have not demonstrated vision or leadership to tackle the problem let alone displayed creativity and innovation in devising their policies.
A development bank to seek solutions
Creating an Arab Development Bank would help to break the log jam and create a basis for tackling the most pressing problem in the Middle East and North Africa. It would provide a vehicle for Arab governments to seek solutions and provide a framework for necessary reform, for example, the way membership of the World Trade Organisation forced Saudi Arabia to take a hard look at parts of its legal system.
It would also streamline efforts to cater to post-revolt expectations of a better life and increased opportunity that run high in Egypt, Tunisia and Libya in the wake of the fall of their erstwhile leaders, Hosni Mubarak, Zine El Abedine Ben Ali and Moammar Ghaddafi.
An Arab Development Bank would give the region ownership of its transition at a time that post-revolt governments are sensitive about ensuring their country’s sovereignty. Egypt, for example, cancelled in June plans to borrow US$3 billion from the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank because the terms of the loan allegedly violated the country’s sovereignty and would invite public protests.
International community takes first step
The international community took a first step in the direction of the development bank model when the G-8 that groups the world’s biggest economies recently mandated the EBRD to assist the post-revolt governments of Egypt, Tunisia and Libya as well as Jordan and Morocco, whose monarchs have initiated a process of change. The EBRD is waiting for the 63 countries and institutions that are its shareholders to ratify the expansion of its mandate. The G-8 countries have pledged US$38 billion in new loans to support the region’s transition to democracy.
The EBRD is the world's one financial institution whose raison d'aitre is and was transition. Created in 1991, its task was to assist eastern and central Europe in building market economies and ensuring growth and development in the wake of the demise of communism. The EBRD has much to offer the Middle East and North Africa, yet it remains a Europe-based, Europe-focused organisation rather than one that is oriented to the Middle East and North Africa.
Similarly, the IFC, the World Bank’s private sector development arm, could serve the Arab bank as an example of how to turn a profit on investments in risky markets and become a beacon that gives private sector investors the confidence to follow suit. This is particularly relevant to the Middle East and North Africa where the state dominates the economy.
Finally, the ADB has demonstrated in the Asia-Pacific that youth bulges are as much an asset as they are a challenge. ADB’s focus on promoting education, the development of small and medium enterprises and regional integration ensured that economic growth was driven by a young population that was gainfully employed.
The wave of popular revolts sweeping the Middle East and North Africa feed on indigenous determination to force change despite the high price in blood that protesters are paying. They demand to be part of the post-revolt transition after the demolition of the old regimes. By giving Arabs ownership of the process, the Arab Development Bank would function as a catalyst and a bridge in an increasingly polarised part of the world.
James M. Dorsey is a Senior Fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Nanyang Technological University.
A Scholar of Popular Contemporary Islam on the Quest for ‘Truth’ in Damascus
by Edith Szanto
Syrian Studies Association Newsletter 13 no. 2 (2008): 8-9, 15.
Toponymy and Monopoly: One Toponym, Two Parents – Ideological Hebraization of Arabic Place Names in the Israeli Language
Onoma 41: 163-184. (2011)
Zuckermann, Ghil'ad 2011. ‘Toponymy and Monopoly: One Toponym, Two Parents – Ideological Hebraization of Arabic Place... more
Zuckermann, Ghil'ad 2011. ‘Toponymy and Monopoly: One Toponym, Two Parents – Ideological Hebraization of Arabic Place Names in the Israeli Language’, Onoma 41: 163-184.
ABSTRACT
אם איננה חדשה– הגדולה שבמעלות למלה חדשה
‘The greatest virtue of a new word is that it is not new’
(Pínes 1893: 61)
אַ קלוגער פֿאַרשטייט פֿון איין וואָרט צוויי
‘A wise man hears one word and understands two’
(Yiddish proverb, cf. Bernstein 1908: 243)
In 1950, two years after the establishment of the State of Israel, Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion (born Grün) founded the Geographical Names Committee for the Hebraization of Arabic toponyms in the Negev, the southern part of Israel. The committee worked for 6 months and suggested 537 names.
Analysing The Government Year-Book of 1950-1, I have found that the Committee used three main methods for suggesting Israeli replacements:
1. Phonetic matching of the Arabic toponym with a pre-existent Hebrew item.
2. Literal translation of the Arabic toponym into ‘Hebrew’ (in fact, Israeli – see Zuckermann 2008).
3. Linking the place to a site mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures, especially the Old Testament, and suggesting the ancient Hebrew toponym.
Of the 537 neologisms suggested by the Committee, 175 were phonetic matches, 167 literal translations and 124 ancient Hebrew toponyms linked to the present sites. The remaining 71 included other kinds of neologization such as euphemistic enantiosemic translation. For example, the semantically positive Hebrew-descent toponym en yáhav, lit. ‘The Spring of Hope’, replaced the semantically negative Arabic toponym `ajn alwabá', lit. ‘The Spring of Plague’. Similarly, the Arabic toponym bi:r ħíndis ‘The Well of Darkness’ was translated as beér orá ‘The Well of Light’. However, the initial name for this place – coined by the soldiers of the Israeli Army Engineering Corps who stayed there while building the road to Eilat in 1949-50 – was beér handasá, lit. ‘The Well of (the) Engineering (Corps)’, a phonetic matching of the Arabic bi:r ħíndis.
Based on such examples from Israel’s efforts in building and defining itself as a nation – as well as from rejective and adoptive lexical engineering by Jews throughout history – this paper explores the intricate and fascinating relationship between names and identity.
Concluding Remarks
Juliet: What’s in a name?
Answer: A lot!
Juliet: That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
Retort: Not in the Middle East!
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Shmeruk, Chone 1987. A shpigl oyf [=af] a shteyn: antologye. poezie un proze fun tsvelf farshnitene yidishe shraybers in ratn-farband (A Mirror on the Stone: Anthology. Poetry and Proze of Twelve Different Yiddish Authors in the Soviet Union). Jerusalem: Magnes. (2nd Edition; 1st Edition: 1964) (in Yiddish)
Shnatón HaMemshalá h.t.sh.y.. (The [Israel] Government Year-Book 1950-1) 1951. (in Israeli)
Singh, Rajendra 1987. ‘Well formedness Conditions and Phonological Theory’. Phonologica1984 (Proceedings of the Fifth International Phonology Meeting, Eisenstadt, 25-28 June 1984). in Wolfgang U. Dressler et al. (eds), Cambridge University Press, pp. 273-285.
Tazkír HaVáad HaLeumí lememshélet érets yisraél al shitát haktív behaatakát hashemót hageográfiim vehapratiím (Memorandum of the National Committee to the Government of Eretz Yisrael on the Spelling Method of Copying Geographical and Personal Names) 1932. Lešonénu 4, Supplement to No. 3, pp. 1-12.
Vilnay, Zev (born Vilensky) 1940. ‘shemót lishuvím ivriím halekukhím mishemót arviím’ (Names of Jewish Settlements taken from Arabic Names). Lešonénu 10 (4): 323-31. (in Israeli)
Yule, Henry and A. C. Burnell 1903. Hobson-Jobson: A Glossary of Colloquial Anglo-Indian Words and Phrases, and of Kindred Terms (Etymological, Historical. Geographical and Discursive). London: John Murray. (1st Edition: 1886)
Weinreich, Uriel 1955. ‘Yiddish Blends with a Slavic Element’. Word 2: 603-10.
Wexler, Paul 1991. ‘Yiddish – the fifteenth Slavic language’. International Journal of the Sociology of Language 91: 1-150, 215-25.
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Zuckermann, Ghil‘ad 2000. ‘Camouflaged Borrowing: “Folk-Etymological Nativization” in the Service of Puristic Language Engineering’. D.Phil. Thesis, University of Oxford.
Zuckermann, Ghil‘ad 2003. Language Contact and Lexical Enrichment in Israeli Hebrew. London – New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
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Introduction
הגדולה שבמעלות למלה חדשה – אם איננה חדשה
Hagdolá shebamaalót lemilá khadashá – im enená khadashá.
“The greatest virtue of a new word is that it is not new.”
(Pínes 1893, 61)
אַ קלוגער פֿאַרשטייט פֿון איין וואָרט צוויי
A klúger farshtéyt fun eyn vort tsvey.
“A wise man hears one word and understands two.”
(Yiddish proverb, cf. Bernstein 1908, 243)
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name
would smell as sweet”, says Juliet to Romeo (or Yael to Ram, as per
a fin-de-siècle translation to Modern Hebrew) in a piece by the famous
164
playwright referred to by Libyan leader Muammar al-Qaddafi as
“Sheikh Zubeir”. There are cases in which the name is extremely
important because it determines the way people perceive the thing it
stands for. Just as thought influences language, language can shape
thought. It was Confucius who said 2,500 years ago that the first thing
a politician has to do is to rectify names!
Indeed, in 1950, two years after the establishment of the State of
Israel (1948), Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion—Ben-Gurion being
a Hebraization of his original surname Grün—founded the Geograph-
ical Names Committee for the Hebraization of Arabic toponyms in the
Negev, the southern part of Israel. The committee worked for six
months and suggested 537 names.
This article consists of three parts: it will first explore mecha-
nisms of neologization involving more than one source; it will then
analyse examples of such mechanisms throughout Jewish history, and
it will finally propose that these mechanisms were prevalent in the
ideological hebraization of Arabic toponyms requested by Ben-Gurion.
Talking about names, I use the term Israeli )see Zuckermann
1999) to refer to the language otherwise known as Modern Hebrew.
The reason is that the beautiful language spoken in today’s Israel is a
multifaceted and fascinating fin-de-siècle hybrid, based not only on
“sleeping beauty” (or alternatively, “walking dead”) Hebrew but also
on the revivalists’ mother tongues such as Yiddish.
1. Etymythological nativization
Onomastics is sometimes separated from the field of lexicography.
But in Israeli many mechanisms of lexical expansion occur in the case
of toponyms—and anthroponyms (see Grün → Ben-Gurion above)—
exactly as they do in “normal” lexical items. Consider the numerous
neologisms deriving from more than one source (one toponym, two
parents), a phenomenon of lexical enrichment referred by Zuckermann
(2003) as multisourced neologization. An example of such multi-
sourced neologization is the widespread process of etymythological
nativization. But before describing it, let us first define etymythology.
Etymythology (i.e. mythological etymology) is also known as
popular etymology, folk-etymology, fake etymology, synchronic ety-
mology and even para-etymology (cf. paretimologia – cf. paretimolo-
gia, the usual Italian term for it. However, despite its having so many
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
monopoly
165
names, it has not been paid enough attention—as scholars such as
Coates (1987) rightly assert. Definitions of etymythology vary. Some
emphasize the subconscious (erroneous, nincompoopish) nature of the
derivation (see Bolinger 1975, 406–407; Crystal 1993). Others focus
on the reshaping of the word/phrase (see Trask 1993, 105). The phe-
nomenon usually involves the fallacy that phonetic similarity means
genetic relationship.
Figuratively speaking, the etymythologizer applies his/her Apol-
lonian tendency (cf. la tendenza apollinea in Pisani 1967, 160). Gen-
erally, the Apollonian tendency is the wish to describe and create
order, especially with unfamiliar information or new experience. An
updated, albeit frivolous, example of this general tendency is the story
of the South Dakotan who went to Athens and was happily surprised
to find out that the Greeks are NASA fans: wherever he went, he saw
the name Apollo. As this anecdote shows, the Apollonian tendency
would also seem to include a significant dimension of ethnocentricity.
Specifically in linguistics, the “Apollonian tendency” is mani-
fested in justifications for the use of a word and in the craving for
meaningfulness. Consider the perception of naïve young Israeli read-
ers of the name dóktor sus (cf. Dr Seuss [‘dækt¢(r) su:s]), the pseud-
onym of Theodore Seuss Geisel, American author and illustrator of
children’s books (1904–1991). Many Israelis are certain that he is
“Dr Horse” since the Israeli word sus means ‘horse’. Note the seren-
dipitous prevalence of animals in Dr Seuss’s stories.
Most importantly, our understanding of etymythology would be
enhanced by providing a clear-cut distinction between (1) merely pas-
sive derivational-only etymythology, i.e. cases of mistaken derivation,
where there is rationalization ex post facto, and (2) active, creative gen-
erative etymythology. The distinction is crucial, although often deriva-
tional-only etymythology is the first stage of generative etymythology.
One of the most common mechanisms of generative etymythol-
ogy is etymythological nativization: a camouflaged borrowing in
which a foreign lexical item is matched with a phonetically (and
sometimes also semantically) similar pre-existent native word/root. In
other words, “etymythological nativization” is a multi-sourced neolo-
gism that preserves the (approximate) sound of the parallel expression
in the source-language, using pre-existent target-language elements
(and that sometimes has a similar meaning to the source-language
expression).
166
Unlike morphemic adaptation, which only uses target-language
grammatical morphemes such as noun-patterns, etymythological
nativization is a kind of neologization that makes use of pre-existent
full target-language lexical items to replace the source-language word.
There are three types of etymythological nativization—according to
the degree of semantic affinity between the source-language expres-
sion and the original target-language expression—before the latter
undergoes etymythological nativization. This degree of affinity is on
a continuum.
1. Phonetic matching (PM)—where the target-language material is
originally similar to the source-language lexical item phonetically
but not semantically.
2. Semanticized phonetic matching (SPM)—where the target-lan-
guage material is originally similar to the source-language lexical
item phonetically, as well as semantically albeit in a loose way.
3. Phono-semantic matching (PSM)—where the target-language
material is originally similar to the source-language lexical item
both phonetically and semantically.
An example of the latter, phono-semantic matching, is the Israeli word
dibúv ‘dubbing’, concocted in the late twentieth century to domesticate
the English word dubbing with the pre-existent Hebrew word [dib’bub]
‘inducing (someone) to speak; speech’. See the figure below:
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
English
dubbing
Israeli Hebrew
דיבוב
dibúb/divúv
‘dubbing’
(Medieval) Hebrew
דבוב
[dib’bub] ‘speech’
‘inducing someone to speak’
(in Israeli Hebrew)
cf. דובב שׂפתי ישנים
(Song of Songs, 7:10)
An older phono-semantic matching, officially proposed on 27 April
1890 in the Hebrew newspaper HaZefira (published in Warsaw) is
mishkafáim ‘glasses’. The coiner, Chaim Leib Hazan, from Hrodna,
chose the (Biblical) Hebrew root √Òqp (the root of mishkafáim) “because
Toponymy and
monopoly
167
of its similarity to the Greek word skopéw skopéo (‘I look at’), which
appears in the names for all glass lenses in the languages of Europe:
telescope, microscope, kaleidoscope and the like” (see Zuckermann
2003, 1). See the figure below:
Ancient Greek
skopéw
skopéo
‘I look at’
cf. Yiddish שפאַקולןshpakúln
‘spectacles’ (Lithuanian
Yiddish ספאַקולןspakúln);
English spectacles
Israeli
משקפיים
mishkafáim
‘glasses,
spectacles’
(Biblical) Hebrew
שק״פ
√Òqp
‘look out/through’
Phono-semantic matching is widespread inter alia in the following
language categories:
1. “Reinvented”, standardized and puristically-oriented languages,
in which language-planners attempt to replace undesirable loan-
words, e.g. Israeli, Revolutionized Turkish (Zuckermann 2003) and
Icelandic.
2. Languages using “phono-logographic” script, e.g. Chinese and Japa-
nese, in the latter to the extent that kanji are used (Zuckermann 2003).
3. Pidgins and creoles, where owing to the high number of languages
involved in the hybridization, lexical conflation occurs naturally,
e.g. Tok Pisin and Jamaican Creole (Zuckermann 2003).
Phonetic matching is common in secret argots, where speakers camou-
flage lexical items to make them unrecognizable to outsiders, e.g.
Judaeo-German, Jewish secret languages and thief argots (Zuckermann
2003). It can be found in minority languages, where attempts are made
to create pure identity and sometimes to prevent outsiders from under-
standing key utterances, e.g. Romany. It is widespread in migrants’
languages—consider American Italian bimbo (‘child’) ‘beam’, giuro (‘I
swear’) ‘Jew’ and grasso (‘fat, greasy’) ‘gas’ (Livingston 1918, 225).
But given the widespread, natural Apollonian tendency, phonetic
matching is obviously common in numerous other languages. A simple
example of phonetic matching in English is mayday, which nativizes
168
French m’aider ‘(to) help me!’ (according to the Radio Telegraph
Convention in 1927; Oxford English dictionary [OED]) or Dialectal/
Colloquial French m’aidez ‘help me!’ (in contrast to Standard French
aidez-moi) or French venez m’aider ‘come to help me!’ (cf. OED).
The meaning of the pre-existent English lexical items May and day
have nothing to do with ‘help’. Note that the currently common calls
for help in French are au secours ‘help!, assist!’ and aidez-moi ‘help
me!’
The first Spanish sailors who encountered Nahuatl (Aztec)
ahuakatl ‘Persea gratissima, avocado’ (lit. ‘testicle’), adapted it pho-
netically as aguacate (this is the current Spanish word for ‘avocado’
and may have been influenced by Spanish agua ‘water’). However, in
some places this adaptation was matched phonetically with Old Span-
ish avocado, lit. ‘advocate’ (cf. Contemporary Spanish abogado
‘advocate’, cf. Spanish evocado ‘recalled, evoked, invoked’), although
of course, ‘advocate’ has nothing to do with the large testicle-shaped
fruit. Note that Spanish avocado entered English in the late seven-
teenth century as alligator (pear), again a phonetic matching.
The Apollonian tendency is the reason for phonetic matching
being prevalent also in the case of toponyms. Consider the following:
• Tamil [amba†’†a∞] (/ampa†’†a∞/), lit. ‘barber’ (also a Hindu caste
traditionally of hairdressers), the name of a bridge in Mylapore, an
old cultural citadel of Madras (currently Chennai): a phonetic
matching—perhaps via Ambuton (Yule and Burnell 1886, cf. 1903,
67a)—of Hamilton, the name of the engineer who built it. Intrigu-
ingly, the Tamil name was later re-adopted in English as Barber’s
Bridge.
• Latin unguentum Neapolitanum, lit. ‘Neapolitan ointment’ was
nativized in German as umgewendten Napoleon, lit. ‘turned around
Napoleon’ (cf. Schleicher 1860, 116).
• French Château-Thierry was referred to by American soldiers in
1918 as Shadow Theory (cf. Anttila 1989, 93).
• Geras ‘old people’ (cf. Greek gòras ‘old age’), the name of a
Roman town in Jordan (Jarash) entered Arabic as ‘[ جرشd”®araÒ]
‘crop, grinding’.
• Nahuatl (Aztec) cuauhnahuac, lit. ‘near the trees, beside the forest’
(a place currently in Mexico) > Spanish Cuernavaca (cuerna ‘horn,
glass made of horn’ + vaca ‘cow’.
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
monopoly
169
Besides the universal Apollonian tendency, one of the main moti-
vations for toponymic phonetic matching might have been iconicity,
the belief that there is something intrinsic about the sound of names.
The very iconicity might be the reason for refraining from translating
Hallelujah and Amen in so many languages, as if the sounds of such
basic religious notions have to do with their referents themselves—as
if by losing the sound, one might lose the meaning. This brings us to
etymythology in Jewish tradition.The gematric (numerological) value
of ‘ ייןwine’ is 70 ( )05 = ן ;01< = י ;01 = יand this is also the gemat-
ric value of ‘ סודsecret’ ( .)4 = ד ;6 = ו ;06 = סThus, this sentence,
according to many Jews at the time, had to be true.
2. Rejective vs. adoptive toponymic matching in Jewish tradition
Besides the universal phenomena of iconicity and the Apollonian ten-
dency, toponymic phonetic matches have been widespread throughout
Jewish history because of the Jewish midrashic tradition of homiletic
commentary on the Hebrew scriptures. In these midrashim (plural of
midrásh ‘examination, investigation, commentary’), playful puns and the
use of serendipitous similarity between etymologically-distinct words
were employed in the service of interpretation. In later generations too,
wordplay has been a conspicuous feature of Jewish oral argumentation—
cf. pilpul (lit. ‘peppering’) Producing a witticism (in both the general and
the contemptuous use of this word itself), reflecting humour at the
expense of another—and extremely often at the expense of oneself—has
been most welcome in Judaism throughout the generation.
I distinguish between rejective etymythological toponyms and
adoptive ones—according to whether negative or positive meaning is
associated with the material used to match the original name. Whereas
rejective toponyms originate in Othering, us versus them, adoptive
toponyms reflect appropriation and cultural flirting. Let us begin with
the “bad ones”.
2.1. Rejective lexical engineering: Othering
Rejective lexical engineering manifests, among other things, the phe-
nomenon of Othering, defining and securing one’s own (positive) iden-
tity through (the stigmatization of) the Other. The Other is what permits
us to discover—and even constitute—the Self. The Self is defined in
170
relation to Others; we define ourSelves through the Others: us versus
them. Consider the following toponymic matches in Jewish tradition:
• Medieval Hebrew !amaleq ‘Amalek’, a nation epitomizing evil since
the days of the Old Testament, was used to refer to hostile Armenia.
• Lithuanian Ashkenazic Hebrew ra dom (cf. Yiddish ra dam, from
Hebrew ra! dam) ‘of bad blood’ is a rejective match for Polish
Radom, the name of a town in Poland (approximately 100 km south
of Warsaw), or of its Yiddish adaptation ród¢m (see Weinreich 1955,
609; Wexler 1991, 42). Thus, if a pogrom had occurred in Radom,
it would have been rationalized by ra dam ‘of bad blood’. Obviously,
providing such an etymythological explanation for the pogrom was
regarded by some Jews as a mere wordplay. However, others might
have conceived of ra dom as having deep intrinsic truth, which might
have been religiously and homiletically based. One should remember
that at that time it was a common belief that all languages were God-
created and that Hebrew was the divine Ursprache.
• Ostra (south-east of Rovno)—cf. Yiddish óstr¢ and Polish Ostróg—
was referred to in Yiddish as óys tóyr¢ ‘without Torah’. However,
by others (or by the same people in other times), it was Ashkenazic
Hebrew oys tóyro or Yiddish אות תּורהos-tór¢, i.e. ‘sign of Torah’
(cf. Bar-Itzhak 1996, 29), which is an adoptive toponym.
Rejective lexical engineering occurs in literary works. In Dovid Hof-
shteyn’s poem Kíndershprukh (first published in 1920, cf. Shmeruk
1987, 261), Kiev is rhymed with Yiddish íev ‘Job’, from Biblical
Hebrew ?iyyoß ‘Job’, the connotation being of distress and disaster,
corresponding to the life story of the biblical Job. A fin de siècle anti-
American Hebrew match is as following:
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
International
America
Modern Hebrew
(jocular)
עמא ריקא
!ammå reqå
‘America’
cf. the opening page
of Gershon
Rosenzweig’s
satirical Massékhet
Amérika
Aramaic
! עמאammå ‘nation’
+
ריקאreqå ‘empty’
cf. עמא פזיזא
!ammå p¢zizå ‘hasty nation’
(Talmud: Kethuboth 112a),
referring to the
Israeli nation
Toponymy and
monopoly
171
Similarly, Israeli am reykaní, lit. ‘empty nation’, has been jocularly
replaced (International >) Israeli amerikáni ‘American’. Compare this
to the diametrically opposite Chinese 美国 Modern Standard Chinese
(henceforth MSC) meiguó, Cantonese meikok, lit. ‘beautiful country’,
a domestication of America.
There are, however, also Chinese examples of rejective toponyms
used to propagandize against hostile nations:
• The Turks were called in Classical Chinese 突厥 MSC tujué, con-
sisting of 突 tu ‘attack, invade’ and 厥 jué ‘stone-launcher’ (sixth-
ninth centuries).
• Mongol was allied with Classical Chinese 蒙古 MSC ménggu, con-
sisting of 蒙 méng ‘dark, obscure, abuse’ and 古 gu ‘old, locked,
stubborn’ (introduced around the eleventh century but still used).
On 非洲 MSC feizhou ‘Africa’ (cf. ‘wrong/not continent’), 英国 MSC
yingguó ‘England (cf. ‘hero country’), 海地 MSC haidì ‘Haiti’ (cf. ‘sea
land’), 泰国 MSC tàiguó ‘Thailand’ (cf. ‘safe country’), 德国 déguó
‘Deutschland, Germany’ (cf. ‘virtuous country’, 法国 MSC faguó
‘France’ (cf. ‘law country’) etc., see Zuckermann (2000, 259-262).
Hebrew oys tóyro ‘sign of Torah; Ostra’ and Chinese 美国 MSC
meiguó ‘beautiful country; America’ lead to the discussion of adop-
tive lexical engineering, including ‘politically correct’ toponyms,
which manifest appropriation.
2.2. Adoptive lexical engineering: appropriation
• Mishnaic Hebrew [jå’wån] ‘Hellas, Greece’ (Midrash Rabba to
Genesis 44), from:
1. Greek I3nia ‘Ionia’
2. Biblical Hebrew [jå’wån] ‘one of Japheth’s sons, the name of a
people’ (Genesis 10:2)
On Medieval Hebrew sprd (Israeli sfarád) ‘Spain’, Medieval Hebrew
?Òknz (Israeli ashkenáz) ‘Germany, Ashkenaz’, see Zuckermann (2000,
137-41).
• Ashkenazic Hebrew shapíro ‘Speyer’ (a town near Heidelberg,
Germany), from:
1. Yiddish shpéy¢r, German Speyer (toponym)
172
2. Aramaic shappirå ‘beautiful’, the feminine form of Aramaic
shappir (Daniel 4:9) ‘handsome, pleasing, good, cheerful’
The positive connotation of this toponymic match might explain its
frequent appearance in many Jewish surnames appearing from the
beginning of the sixteenth century, e.g. Shpiro, Shapirin, Shapira,
Sapir (cf. Beider 1993, 532b). The dynamics between tonomymy and
anthroponymy is a fascinating topic, which deserves its own paper.
• Ashkenazic Hebrew mógeyn vetsíno ‘Mainz’ (cf. Wexler 1991: 42),
from:
1. Hebrew magéntsa ‘Mainz’, Yiddish magénts¢, Polish Moguncja,
Latin Maguntia (Moguntia, Mogontiacum) (toponym).
2. Biblical Hebrew mågen w¢Òinnå, a tautological dvandva con-
junction which appears in Jeremiah 46:3, Ezekiel 39:9 and
Psalms 35:2, meaning ‘shield and shield’.
• Ashkenazic Hebrew har adonoy ‘Hrodna, Grodno’ (Weinreich
1955, 610), from:
1. Yiddish gródn¢, Polish Grodno, Belorussian Hrodna, Russian
Grodno Gródno (toponym).
2. Ashkenazic Hebrew har adonoy ‘The mount of the Lord’, from
Hebrew har ?adonåy, cf. har yy ‘The mount of the Lord’ in
Isaiah 2:3.
Consider Medieval Hebrew polin ‘Poland’. Blanc (1989, 57) claims
that there is no reason for its [i] vowel, cf. Yiddish póyln, Polish Polska
(polski ‘Polish’), Russian Polàja Pól’sha, Italian Polonia, English
Poland. This might lead to the conclusion that is a semanticized pho-
netic matching based on the Hebrew autochthonous root √lyn ‘lodge,
stay, dwell’.
Blanc mentions the well-known popular rationalization according
to which “when the Jews came to Poland, the skies ordered them to
stay there”. A detailed investigation is presented by Bar-Itzhak (1996,
30-7). However, my explanation, which may refute Blanc’s claim
regarding the [i] (y) in pwlyn, is that Yiddish póyln was spelled in
pre-Modern Yiddish as pwlyn or as pwylyn (cf. the current spelling
pwyln). Note that the pronunciation of (Medieval Hebrew >) Israeli
pwlyn by some speakers of Israeli, especially in the past, has been
pólin, which resembles the German and the Yiddish forms (as distinct
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
monopoly
173
from polín). This pronunciation could serve to strengthen the ortho-
graphic explanation. It seems that Medieval Hebrew pwlyn was not
an etymythological nativization ab initio but rather a mere phonetic
adaptation that has been rationalized etymythologically ex post facto.
Another name for Poland is Israeli polánya, which could be rean-
alysed as po lan ya ‘Here stays God’. The term might have been
induced by analogy to other Israeli country names corresponding to
the feminine form of the noun which refers to the person who lives in
the country (or to the feminine adjective), cf. ángliya ‘England’ versus
angliyá ‘English (feminine)’, and rúsya ‘Russia’ versus rusiyá ‘Russian
(feminine)’. Consider also Italian Polonia ‘Poland’.
2.3. Etymythological toponyms in the Haskalah period
Toponymic matches were very common among maskilim, followers of
the Jewish Enlightenment movement Haskalah in Germany (1770s-
1880s; cf. Aufklärung), led by the philosopher Moses Mendelssohn
(1729-86) and the poet, linguist and exegete Naphtali Herz Wessely
(1725-1805, also known as Váyz§). Consider the following examples:
• Maskilic Hebrew poyálo tóvo (Israeli poalá tavá), lit. ‘good work-
ingman/labourer’—an Aramaic expression appearing in the Talmud
as [po!ala †åßå] (cf. Jastrow 1903, 281b, 1145a)—was the name
some maskilim used for Poltava, a city in the Ukraine (south-west
of Kharkov, east of Kiev), with a thriving Jewish community—
cf. Yiddish poltáv¢, Russian Poltava Poltáva and Polish Po¥tawa
(cf. Avinery 1946, 135; Klausner 1949, 97).
• Maskilic Hebrew sar to(y)v, lit. ‘good ruler’, was a matching of Rus-
sian Saratov Sarátov (the name of a city in Russia)—cf. Weinreich
(1955. 610, fn.).
• Maskilic Hebrew harérey élef (or harérey ólef) (see Saddan 1955, 40)
stands for International (The) Alps—cf. Russian Alàpx Ál’py and
Polish Alpy. Biblical Hebrew [har¢’re ‘?ålep] (Psalms 50:10) means
‘a thousand hills’ (cf. Israeli haálpim ‘The Alps’). In Israeli this expres-
sion could be understood as ‘mountains of a thousand (metres)’. Note
that only the second part of harérey élef is a matching.
• Maskilic Hebrew i shfánim, lit. ‘island of coneys’ (shfaním could
colloquially also mean ‘rabbits’), referring to the Iberian peninsula,
was used by Gordon (as khatsí í hashfaním ‘peninsula of coneys’)
174
in his poem bimtsulót yam (In the Depths of Sea)—cf. Gordon
(1956: 107a). It is a phonetic matching of Latin Ispania, or His-
pania—cf. Greek ?????? Spanía, Russian Ispaniq Ispániya,
Polish Hiszpania, Old English Ispania.
The origin of Latin Hispania, the name of the Roman Province, is
the Phoenician name for the western areas of the Mediterranean Sea,
described by the Phoenicians as “the coast of coneys” (see Rosen
1994, 90). If this theory is true, then Maskilic Hebrew i shfánim might
be an “incestuous” matching, in the sense that the material used in the
target language (TL, here Maskilic Hebrew) is etymologically related
to the nativized item from the source language (SL, here Latin).
Maskilic Hebrew po novi ze (Israeli po naví ze), lit. ‘here (this) is
my (beautiful) dwelling’, was a matching of Yiddish pónivezh, the name
of the town in Lithuania, famous for its Jewish centre (cf. Lithuanian
Yiddish pónivez) (used by Gordon 1883, 151, cf. Klausner 1949,
97).
Hebrew nwh—originally pronounced [nå’we]—‘(beautiful) dwell-
ing’, which participates in Maskilic Hebrew po novi ze leads to the
discussion of ideological hebraization of Arabic place names in Israeli.
3. Hebraization of Arabic place-names in Israeli: reclamation
Israeli uses the Semitic feature known as construct-state (smikhút), in
which two nouns are combined, the first being modified or possessed
by the second. For example, repúblikat banánot, lit. ‘republic bananas’,
denotes ‘banana republic’.
Hebrew [nå’we] ‘dwelling’ is often used as nomen rectum (gov-
erned noun) in Israeli toponyms constituting a construct state, for exam-
ple nevé-atív on Mount Hermon in northern Israel. In Biblical Hebrew
there are two different [nå’we], deriving from two distinct roots,
both spelled as √nwh (cf. √nwy). Biblical Hebrew √1nwh means ‘pas-
ture site in the desert’ (see II Samuel 7:8), ‘dwelling, habitation’ (see
II Samuel 15:25)—cf. Arabic [‘nawa:] ‘emigrated, wandered (m, sg)’
and Biblical Hebrew n?wt (e.g. Joel 2:22, Amos 1:2). Biblical Hebrew
√2nwh means ‘beautiful, comely’ (see Jeremiah 6:2) and is a variant
of Biblical Hebrew n?wh—cf. Arabic [‘nawwaha] ‘extolled, praised,
raised, elevated (m, sg)’, ‘excelled (m, sg)’, Mishnaic Hebrew n?h
‘beautiful’, Mishnaic Hebrew nwy [noj] ‘beauty’, Biblical Hebrew √y?h
(cf. √y?y) ‘be beautiful’ (Jeremiah 10:7) and Aramaic y?y ‘beautiful’.
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
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175
Biblical Hebrew √1nwh was the nomen rectum of several biblical
construct state toponyms, e.g. [n¢’we ?e’tån] (Jeremiah 49:19, 50:44)
and [n¢’we tan’nim] (Isaiah 34:13, 35:7). Therefore, the modern use
of nevé- could be regarded as deriving directly from these biblical
construct-states alone—cf. Israeli nevé shaanán (inter alia, the name
of a neighbourhood of Tel Aviv, Haifa and Jerusalem), from Biblical
Hebrew [nå’we ∫a?a’nån] (Isaiah 33:20).
However, I suspect that, as usual, the reality is much more com-
plex, characterized by multiple causation—with several elements
simultaneously influencing the creation of some toponyms with nevé-:
Arabic [‘nabi:] ‘prophet’. Examples include the following:
• Israeli nevé danyél, lit. ‘Daniel’s dwelling’, the name of a com-
munal settlement in Mount Judaea, matches phonetically Ara-
bic [?an’nabi: dan’jal] ‘the Prophet Daniel’. It was named after
the Israeli convoy called in Arabic [?an’nabi: dan’jal], which
returned from this area on 27 March 1948 and was attacked by
Arabs near Bethlehem.
• Israeli nevé yamín, lit. ‘the right side dwelling’ or ‘the dwell-
ing of Yamin’ )a biblical name, e.g. the son of Simon, Jacob’s
son), a moshav (smallholders’ cooperative settlement) near
Kfar Sava in central Israel. This is a phonetic matching of
Arabic [?an’nabi: ja’mi:n] ‘the Prophet Yamin’, and was thus
named in accordance with the Arabic tradition that it is the
place where Benjamin, Jacob’s son, is buried. Benjamin is
called in Arabic [binja’mi:n] and on occasion [ja’mi:n]—cf.
(the now rare) [‘jamana]/[‘jamina]/[‘jamuna] ‘was lucky, for-
tunate (m)’, [‘jumn] ‘luck’, [maj’mu:n] ‘lucky’ and [ja’mi:n]
‘right hand’; see also Entsiklopédya Mikraít (iii:701).
(ii) International new, cf. Russian novxî nóvyi, e.g. Novxî Afon
nóvyi afón ‘New Athens’ in Abkhaz; Novxî Arbat nóvyi arbát,
a street in Moscow, established in the 1960s; Novxe Werëmu-
jki nóvye cher6mushki, a neighbourhood in Moscow which is
much newer and more beautiful than the preceding Cher6mushki.
Compare these with Slovene Nova Gorica, a city in Slovenia,
near Gorizia, Italy, as well as with German neu(e), English new,
e.g. New Hampshire and New York.
(iii) Biblical Hebrew √2nwh ‘beautiful, comely’.
(iv) (Hebrew>) Israeli nevé-midbár, a widespread construct-state
which literally means ‘dwelling of desert’, referring to ‘oasis’.
176
The last three inputs are apparent in the tendency to use Israeli nevé-
in the names of new and supposedly attractive neighbourhoods of
existing cities. Israeli nevé- is associated with a place which is green,
non-urban, different from its environment. Consider Nevé Savyoním
near Savyon in central Israel, Nevé Avivím and Nevé Dan in Tel Aviv,
Nevé Granót (1963) and Nevé Yaakóv (1924) in Jerusalem, and Nevé
Khaím (1950) in Hadera.
3.1. “Judaization” of Arabic toponyms in the Negev (1950)
It is instructive to compare and contrast the policy of David Ben-
Gurion, Israel’s first Prime Minister, and Lee Kuan Yew of Singapore.
Lee Kuan Yew shrewdly kept Malay as an important symbolic lan-
guage in Singapore. Thus, although it would be extremely hard for
anyone to find a Malay/Indian pilot or high officer in the Singaporean
Army (they are all Chinese) or a Chinese cleaning lady at the National
University of Singapore (NUS), the national anthem and the army
commands are in Malay rather than in English, Mandarin or Hokkien!
Such an advanced pro forma lip service is impossible in Israel. The
Jewish psyche would not tolerate singing the Israeli national anthem
in Arabic. Everything must be in ‘Hebrew’.
Ben-Gurion (a phonetic matching of his original surname Grün,
using the Mishnaic Hebrew name [gur’jo:n]) wanted all Israelis, let
alone government officials, to Hebraize their names. In 1950, two years
after the establishment of Israel, Ben-Gurion urgently founded a gov-
ernmental Geographical Names Committee (henceforth GNC) for the
Hebraization (Shnaton HeMemshala 1951, 279 prefers “Judaization”)
of Arabic toponyms in the Negev (in the southern part of Israel). (The
committee was called in Israeli haveadá hageográfit likviát shemót
banégev—mitáam misrád rosh hamemshalá.)
As a rough estimate, the GNC worked for 6 months, had 60 ses-
sions and suggested over 500 Israeli names. The Head of GNC was
Dr Avraham Yaakov Brawer and among its members were Professor
Shmuel Yeivin, Professor David Amiran and Zalman Lif (Lifschitz).
Analysing Shnaton HaMemshala h.t.∫.y.?. (The Government Year-Book
of 1950-1) (1951: 259-311, and especially 279-88), it is possible to
infer that the GNC used three main methods for suggesting Israeli
toponyms:
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
monopoly
177
1. Matching of the Arabic toponym with a phonetically-similar pre-
existent Hebrew item (i.e. etymythological nativization).
2. Literal translation of the Arabic toponym into Hebrew (cf. calquing).
3. Linking the place to a site mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures,
especially the Old Testament, and suggesting the ancient Hebrew
toponym as a replacement for the Arabic place name.
Of the 537 neologisms suggested by the Committee, 175 were phonetic
matches, 167 literal translations and 124 ancient Hebrew toponyms
linked to the present sites. The remaining 71 included other kinds of
neologization such as the following euphemistic neologisms, each con-
stituting an enantiosemic auto-opposite with its Arabic origin:
• The semantically positive en yáhav, lit. ‘The Spring of Hope’, replaced
the semantically negative Arabic [!ajn alwa’ba?], lit. ‘The Spring
of Plague’; Arabic [wa’ba?] meaning ‘plague, pest, epidemic’.
• Arabic [bi:r ‘hindis] ‘The Well of Darkness’ was translated as
(Hebrew>) Israeli beér orá ‘The Well of Light’. However, the ini-
tial name for this place, coined by the soldiers of the Israeli Army
Engineering Corps who stayed there while building the road to Eilat
in 1949-50, was beér handasá, lit. ‘The Well of (the) Engineering
(Corps)’, a phonetic matching of Arabic [bi:r ‘hindis].
Juxtapose these examples with Benevento, a town (and province) in
Campania, Italy, 50 km north-east of Naples. Benevento is understood
today as ‘good wind’ (Nissan, personal communication) or ‘good event’.
But its original names were actually Maleventum, Malowent and
Maloenton, which meant in the original Italic language neither ‘the
site of bad events’ nor ‘bad wind’. But the Romans re-interpreted the
name and after they won a battle there, they replaced Maleventum with
Beneventum.
Examples of phonetic matches from the suggested 175:
• Arabic [‘d”®abal (al)xa’ru:f], lit. ‘the mountain of the ram/sheep’ >
har kharíf, lit. ‘hot/sharp/fast-flowing mountain’ (p. 282b). Cf. Medi-
eval Hebrew nhl hryf ‘fast-flowing river’, which might have been
taken into account by GNC. In fact, GNC also matched Arabic [‘wadi
xa’ru:f], lit. ‘river of ram/sheep’, with nákhal kharíf, lit. ‘hot/sharp/
fast-flowing River’.
178
• Arabic [?al!unÒu’rijja], currently ‘racism’ (cf. [‘!unÒur] ‘component,
element, race’) > har nétser ‘mountain of sprout’ (p. 284a).
• Arabic [‘d”®abal almah(a)’wijja] (cf. [‘?ahwa:] ‘side of a valley,
dark green colour’, √hwj ‘gather; dark green’) > har mikhyá ‘moun-
tain of living’ (p. 284a).
By using phonetic matching, literal translation and recycling ancient
Hebrew toponyms, the Geographical Names Committee did not
exhaust all the possibilities that were theoretically available. However,
these methods were also prevalent in lexical, non-toponymic, neolo-
gization in Israeli, analysed by Zuckermann (2003).
3.2. Hebraization of Arabic toponyms in other regions
Phonetic matching of Arabic toponyms has been widespread in all
areas of Israel, not only in the Negev. Consider the following:
• har tov, lit. ‘a good mountain’, the name of a settlement located on
a mountain in Judea and having good air, is a phonetic matching
of Arabic [!ar’†u:f], the name of the nearby Arabic village. Vilnay
(1940, 323) intriguingly asserts that the Arabic name is meaning-
less. Perhaps it is a nativization to Latin Aretusa. Note the existence
of the mistaken forms [!ar’tu:f] (Kol Makom Veatar, 136) and
[?ar’†u:f] (Avinery 1946, 139).
• en véred, lit. ‘The Spring of the Rose’, the name of a settlement in
the Sharon area (central Israel), is a recalibration of Arabic [!a’j:un
alwar’da:t], lit. ‘springs (for) the women going down (to draw
water)’ (cf. Vilnay 1940, 325).
• bet gan, lit. ‘The House of the Garden’, the name of a settlement
near the Sea of Galilee (cf. Biblical Hebrew [bet hag’gån], the name
of a place in Samaria, see II Kings 9:27), is a partial phonetic match-
ing of Vernacular Arabic [be:t d®an], lit. ‘The House of the Ghosts’
(Vilnay 1940: 329) (cf. Arabic [d®inn] ‘demons, jinn’, but see also
[‘d®anna] ‘garden’).
• ramát shafát, a neighbourhood in Jerusalem < Arabic [Òu!a’fa:t]
(cf. √Ò!f ‘love, affection’, [Òu’!a:f] ‘madness (love sickness)’).
For further recalibrations, see Maisler (1932), Tazkír HaVáad HaLeumí
(1932) and Vilnay (1940).
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
monopoly
179
Importantly, these concoctions are prescriptive and scholarly,
introduced by clerk rather folk-etymology, by informed language plan-
ners. Sociologically, albeit not structurally, they should be distinguished
from lay, uninformed toponymic matches, such as the following:
• Israeli givát hanóar ‘The Hill of the Youth’ was the name children in
Givataim gave to גבעת אנוארgivát ánwar ‘The Hill of Anwar’ (from
the name of an Arab, cf. Arabic [‘?anwar], lit. ‘giving more light’).
• Under the British Mandate, George V Avenue in Jerusalem was
called (Hebrew>) Israeli avínu malkénu, lit. ‘Our Father Our King’
(i.e. ‘Our Lord’).
• Israeli givát haradár, lit. ‘The Hill of the Radar’—the name of a
place near Jerusalem where the British/Jordanian aviation radar was
located from the Second World War until 1967—was matched pho-
netically with the Hebrew name הר-אדרhar adár, lit. ‘Mount
Addar’, Addar being the name of a month in the Jewish calendar—
cf. Akkadian addaru.
3.3. Intra-lingual multisourced toponym
An example of an intra-lingual multisourced toponym:
• Israeli aléy zaháv, lit. ‘leaves of gold’, the name of a collective farm
in southern Israel, was coined in the 1980s. It derives from two
sources:
(i) Hebrew!ly zhb ‘golden leaves’ (which are common during
autumn)—arising from the name of the establishing group,
גרעין סתיוgarín stav, lit. ‘autumn nucleus (core-group)’
(ii) Clipping of !lyzh bgyn, Alizah Begin, wife of Menachem Begin,
then Israel’s Prime Minister. The settlers were supported by
Begin’s Kherut (-Beitar) Party and wished to commemorate his
wife. But they knew that there was no chance of accomplishing
this formally since it was too close to Mrs Begin’s death and
Mrs Begin was not, at least officially, an influential figure her-
self.
4. Concluding remarks
Juliet:
What’s in a name?
Answer: A lot!
180
Juliet:
Retort:
This article analyses toponyms that simultaneously have more than
one etymon (etymological source), championing hybridity and mul-
tiple causation. Special attention was given to toponymic neologisms
proposed by the Geographical Names Committee for the Hebraization
of Arabic toponyms in the Negev, the southern part of Israel, in 1950-
1952. The article contributes towards the development of a typology
of onomastic neologization in general and toponomastics in particular.
Based on examples from Israel’s efforts in building and defining itself
as a nation—as well as from rejective and adoptive lexical engineering
by Jews throughout history—this article explores the intricate and
intriguing relationship between names and identity.
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That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
Not in the Middle East!
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]
Professor Ghil'ad Zuckermann
D.Phil. (Oxford), Ph.D. (Cambridge) (titular), M.A. (Tel Aviv) (summa cum laude)
Chair of Linguistics and Endangered Languages
Australian Research Council (ARC) Discovery Fellow
School of Humanities
The University of Adelaide
SA 5005, Australia
http://www.zuckermann.org/
http://adelaide.academia.edu/zuckermann/
http://www.adelaide.edu.au/directory/ghilad.zuckermann
http://www.facebook.com/zuckermann
Author of Revival Linguistics, Oxford University Press, forthcoming
Author of Israelit Safa Yafa (Israeli - A Beautiful Language), Am Oved, 2008 http://www.zuckermann.org/israelit.html
Author of Language Contact and Lexical Enrichment in Israeli Hebrew, Palgrave Macmillan, 2003 http://www.zuckermann.org/enrichment.html
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
Toponymy and
monopoly
183
Summary: Toponymy and monopoly: one toponym, two parents; ideological
hebraization of Arabic place-mames in the Israeli language
This article analyses toponyms that simultaneously have more than one etymon
(etymological source), championing hybridity and multiple causation. Special
attention is given to toponymic neologisms proposed by the Geographical
Names Committee for the Hebraization of Arabic toponyms in the Negev, the
southern part of Israel, in 1950-1952. It contributes towards the development
of a typology of onomastic neologization in general and toponomastics in
particular. Based on examples from Israel’s efforts in building and defining
itself as a nation—as well as from rejective and adoptive lexical engineering
by Jews throughout history—this article explores the fascinating and multifac-
eted relationship between names and identity.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would
smell as sweet”, says Juliet to Romeo (or Yael to Ram, as per a fin-de-siècle
translation to “Modern Hebrew”) in a piece by the famous playwright referred
to by Libyan leader Muammar al-Qaddafi as “Sheikh Zubeir”. There are cases
in which the name is extremely important because it determines the way people
perceive the thing it stands for. Just as thought influences language, language
can shape thought. Already 2,500 years ago Confucius said that the first thing
a politician has to do is to rectify names!
Résumé: Toponymie et monopole: un toponyme, deux parents; hébraïsation
idéologique de noms de lieux arabes dans la langue d’Israël
Cet article analyse les toponymes qui ont simultanément plus d’une ori-
gine étymologique, champions de l’hybridité et de la causalité multiple.
Une attention particulière est accordée aux néologismes toponymiques
proposés par le Comité de toponymie pour l’hébraïsation des toponymes
arabes dans le Néguev, la partie sud d’Israël, en 1950-1952. Il contribue
à l’élaboration d’une typologie de la néologisation onomastique en géné-
ral et en particulier toponymique. Reposant sur des exemples des efforts
d’Israël dans la construction et la définition d’une nation – ainsi que dans
les techniques de rejet et d’adoption lexicaux par les Juifs à travers l’his-
toire – le présent article explore la relation fascinante et multiforme entre
les noms et l’identité.
«Qu’y a-t-il dans un nom? Ce que nous appelons une rose embaumerait
autant sous un autre nom», dit Juliette à Roméo (ou Yael à Ram, selon une
traduction fin de siècle de l’hébreu moderne) dans une pièce du célèbre dra-
maturge que le leader libyen Muammar al-Kadhafi nomme «Cheikh Zubeir».
Il ya des cas dans lesquels le nom est extrêmement important en ce qu’il
détermine la façon dont les gens perçoivent la chose qu’elle représente. De
même que la pensée influence la langue, de même la langue peut façonner
la pensée. Voilà déjà 2500 ans, Confucius disait que la première chose qu’un
homme politique doit faire est de corriger les noms!
184
Zusammenfassung: Toponymik und Monopolstellung: ein Toponym, zwei
Ursprünge; die ideologische Hebräisierung von arabischen Ortsnamen in
der Sprache Isreals
Dieser Artikel analysiert Toponyme, die gleichzeitig mehr als ein Etymon
(etymologischen Ursprung) und damit Hybridität sowie mehrfache Ursprünge
besitzen. Spezielle Beachtung finden toponymische Neologismen, die das
Geographical Names Committee for the Hebraization of Arabic toponyms 1950-
1952 für das Gebiet der Negev-Wüste, dem südlichen Teil Israels, vorschlug.
Es trug damit zu einer Entwicklung einer bestimmten Typolgie onomasti-
scher Neologisierung im Allgemeinen und im toponomastischen Bereich im
Speziellen bei. Basierend auf Beispiele von Bemühungen Israels, sich selbst als
Nation zu konstruieren und zu definieren – es werden sowohl ausgesonderte
als auch durch angenommene lexikalische Entwicklungen in der jüdischen
Geschichte werden betrachtet – untersucht dieser Artikel das faszinierende und
vielgestaltige Verhältnis zwischen Bezeichnungen und Identität. “Was bedeutet
ein Name? Was wir eine Rose nennen, würde mit einem anderen Namen
genauso süß riechen“, sagt Julia zu Romeo (oder Yael zu Ram, wie in einer
fin-de-siècle-Übersetzung in „modernes Hebräisch) in einem Stück eines
berühmten Autors, auf den sich der libysche Führer Muammar al-Qaddafi als
“Sheikh Zubeir” bezieht. Es gibt Fälle, in denen ein Name äußerst bedeutsam
ist, weil er die Art und Weise bestimmt, wie Menschen die Sache verstehen,
für welche der Name steht. So wie die Gedanken Sprache beeinflussen, kann
die Sprache die Gedanken beeinflussen. Schon vor 2.500 Jahren sagte Konfu-
zius, dass die erste Pflicht eines Politikers sei, Namen zu korrigieren!
Ghil‘ad Zuckermann
