Some academics recently demanded that when describing Hoklo, the term minnanyu (閩南語) should be avoided in favor of “Taiwanese” (台語). The reason was that min means “snake” and nan — Chinese for south — implies “barbarian.”
Both implications are obviously derogatory. The demand makes an interesting contrast to the comic strip used by the Ministry of Economic Affairs to explain the economic cooperation framework agreement with China, in which one of the characters is from Tainan and “speaks with a Taiwanese accent.” Will replacing the word minnan with the word “Taiwanese” really eliminate discrimination? And is language discrimination inherent in language itself, or is it created by deliberate manipulation?
Min does mean “snake,” but the question is if “snake” really is discriminatory. In some religions, snakes are seen as a sacred animal and are often worshipped as a totem, as can be seen in the beliefs of Taiwan’s Paiwan and Rukai Aborigines. Snakes are also highly praised in ancient Chinese mythology, in which they were deemed immortal. Some academics even think the dragon, so highly revered in China, was originally a snake. For example, Nuwa (女媧) and Fuxi (伏羲), the brother and sister that are the mythological creators of the Chinese people, are often portrayed as snakes.
I therefore don’t think that the character min is derogatory just because it contains the character chong (虫), an old Chinese word for a kind of poisonous snake. Many people believe that Chinese in the past named peoples in outlying areas after animals as a means of looking down on them, but I would be cautious of this interpretation. An increasing amount of research shows that the formation of these names may have had more to do with the totems and beliefs of these tribes rather than with a wish to liken them to animals.
As for the word nan, the traditional Chinese view sees the north as the political center, so “the south” implies a certain discriminatory attitude. We must not forget, however, that more often it is simply a direction or a location, in the same way Nanjing is named in relation to Beijing.
Both the Ming Dynasty and the government of Republican China used Nanjing as its capital, and they certainly would not have done so had nan been a derogatory term. In addition, The Book of Odes (詩經) contains the chapters The Odes of Zhou and the South (周南) and The Odes of Shao and the South (召南), but academics now think the word here referred to a musical instrument called the nan.
There are also examples in the Analects (論語) of a beautiful concubine named Nanzi (南子), and in the work of the ancient Chinese poet Tao Yuanming (陶淵明) the term “southern mountains,” implying a “retreat” and “leisurely.” I really can’t see how the word nan could be derogatory.
The question of whether the two components of the word minnan are derogatory thus depends on the intent of the user and the interpretation of the recipient. As a Taiwanese born and bred, I have always felt that the word minnan is a geographical name, and that discrimination is not inherent in the two words but a matter of ethnic prejudice created by a certain political ideology.
If we do not eradicate that kind of prejudice, it doesn’t matter what name we use. To clarify whether or not replacing the word minnan with the word “Taiwanese” in and of itself will eradicate this kind of prejudice, just take another look at the Ministry of Economic Affairs’ comic strip and you will have your answer.
Hsu Yu-fang is an associate professor and chairman of the Chinese Department at National Dong Hwa University.
TRANSLATED BY PERRY SVENSSON
When Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) sits down with US President Donald Trump in Beijing on Thursday next week, Xi is unlikely to demand a dramatic public betrayal of Taiwan. He does not need to. Beijing’s preferred victory is smaller, quieter and in some ways far more dangerous: a subtle shift in American wording that appears technical, but carries major strategic meaning. The ask is simple: replace the longstanding US formulation that Washington “does not support Taiwan independence” with a harder one — that Washington “opposes” Taiwan independence. One word changes; a deterrence structure built over decades begins to shift.
Taipei is facing a severe rat infestation, and the city government is reportedly considering large-scale use of rodenticides as its primary control measure. However, this move could trigger an ecological disaster, including mass deaths of birds of prey. In the past, black kites, relatives of eagles, took more than three decades to return to the skies above the Taipei Basin. Taiwan’s black kite population was nearly wiped out by the combined effects of habitat destruction, pesticides and rodenticides. By 1992, fewer than 200 black kites remained on the island. Fortunately, thanks to more than 30 years of collective effort to preserve their remaining
After Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) met Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in Beijing, most headlines referred to her as the leader of the opposition in Taiwan. Is she really, though? Being the chairwoman of the KMT does not automatically translate into being the leader of the opposition in the sense that most foreign readers would understand it. “Leader of the opposition” is a very British term. It applies to the Westminster system of parliamentary democracy, and to some extent, to other democracies. If you look at the UK right now, Conservative Party head Kemi Badenoch is
A Pale View of Hills, a movie released last year, follows the story of a Japanese woman from Nagasaki who moved to Britain in the 1950s with her British husband and daughter from a previous marriage. The daughter was born at a time when memories of the US atomic bombing of Nagasaki during World War II and anxiety over the effects of nuclear radiation still haunted the community. It is a reflection on the legacy of the local and national trauma of the bombing that ended the period of Japanese militarism. A central theme of the movie is the need, at