I started reading “Nothing wrong with ‘Taiwanese’” (Aug. 8, page 8), an apparent response to my essay “An accurate term for ‘Taiwanese’” (Aug. 3, page 8), expecting to learn something useful. Regrettably though, instead of a constructive discussion, the author chose to go on the offensive, starting with catchy-sounding terms such as “flawed arguments,” and, in the end, failing to substantiate them.
What troubled me even more is that the “critical response” is filled with linguistic inaccuracies itself, at times also misrepresenting me. For example, nowhere in my essay did I stress a “special” similarity of Taiwanese Southern Min to the varieties of Southern Min used in China. (Although, given their linguistic history, what else should one expect?)
Many of the points mentioned by the author reveal sketchy familiarity with the languages of the world and their histories. For example, calling Icelandic “an Old Norse language” is a practice that does not exist (incidentally, I hold a degree in Icelandic linguistics). Their the quibbles about the term “Anglo-Saxon” are also hard to understand — this is a well known term.
One should not be too harsh here, perhaps, since the history of European languages apparently is not the author’s specialty. Nevertheless, assertions such as “many languages are named independently of their typological classification” reveals more fundamental problems, demonstrating that the author might even not be aware of the differences between “typological” and “genetic” classifications of languages and their relationship to language names, i.e., topics that are supposed to be covered in introductory linguistic courses. Blunders of this kind make the author’s speculations about “global language naming” (another concept that does not exist) look like empty prattle.
In spite of the author’s quibbles, it remains a fact that Taiwanese Hokkien is a branch of Southern Min, along with the fact that Taiwan is a multicultural and multilingual place — although its historical richness in languages and cultures has been in steady decline due to the dominance of several foreign arrivals, such as Southern Min (and, to some extent, Hakka), Dutch, Japanese and, eventually, Mandarin.
In this respect, I am truly surprised by the author’s claim that Southern Min is a “representative language of Taiwanese culture, arts, history and place names,” because, once again, all this is plainly wrong. The main language of Taiwan today is Mandarin (whether one likes it or not), which renders the comparison with Japan, Italy or Vietnam useless. The place names of Taiwan typically either follow traditional Chinese principles (cf. “Tai-pei” and “Tai-chung” vis-a-vis “Bei-jing” and “Nan-jing” in China) or are Sinicized variants of earlier Austronesian or, more rarely, Japanese names. For example, “Kaohsiung” is the Mandarin version of the earlier Japanese “Takao,” whereas multiple names of smaller towns and villages, such as “Xin-mei” and “Te-fu-ye” frequently are phonetic adaptations of native Austronesian terms (cf. “Sinvi” and “Tfuea”).
The often repeated claims about “Taiwanese culture and arts” are, regrettably, never followed by a definition of these terms. What is “Taiwanese culture,” and what exactly are “Taiwanese arts”? In my view, too often these terms have been used quite inappropriately to refer exclusively to the arts practiced by the Min and Hakka-speaking immigrants from China (and their descendants).
A single click on the computer mouse would reveal that the reality of “Taiwanese arts” and “Taiwanese culture” is far more complex. These terms would never be complete without including, first of all, the Austronesian peoples of Taiwan, and all the later arrivals, such as Dutch, Spanish, Japanese and others — all of whom have left their impression on the local arts and culture.
In all likelihood, the German journalist, adduced in the “response” as a most awkward “argument,” was exposed solely to the arts performed in Southern Min. Are we supposed to use a journalist’s impression, based on very limited exposure, as the basis for official language naming?
The author continues with adducing Hindi, Urdu, Serbian, Croatian and other languages as further “arguments,” exposing further lacunae in his linguistic background. The differences between language names such as “Urdu” vs “Hindi” or “Serbian” vs “Croatian” have a blood-soaked history, and have come into being via the respective parties’ unwillingness to engage in dialogue (regrettably similar to the attitude in the “response”). The primary cause of their existence has little to do with sciences, and the names remain a major problem in language classification and dialectology.
Something along these lines would also happen if Taiwanese Hokkien were abbreviated to “Taiwanese,” transforming a very clear issue into a dicey linguistic problem. Neither do the Scandinavian languages help much here — Swedish, Danish and Norwegian are called thus because of the respective country names. Unfortunately for my attacker, trying to find a country with the official name “Taiwan” would not be very fruitful.
One could go on and on, but I would find it regrettable if a topic that could be dealt with simply and professionally is shut up by the newspaper to prevent further useless arguments.
What can one take away from this discussion? First, the staggeringly unprofessional assault on my essay underscores the dire necessity to upgrade the linguistic literacy in Taiwan (an issue already mentioned in my original essay).
Also, the instruction of history might benefit from a major reformation, among other things, providing a proper place for the indigenous people of Taiwan. As for the adjective “Taiwanese,” its semantic association with “multiculturalism,” “multilingualism” and “inclusion” remain the most constructive, and much good could be derived from this.
The final point is that fruitful, constructive discussions also require an open mind, an ability to think “outside of the box” and mere human decency.
Aurelijus Vijunas is professor of phonetics and historical linguistics at National Kaohsiung Normal University.
Donald Trump’s return to the White House has offered Taiwan a paradoxical mix of reassurance and risk. Trump’s visceral hostility toward China could reinforce deterrence in the Taiwan Strait. Yet his disdain for alliances and penchant for transactional bargaining threaten to erode what Taiwan needs most: a reliable US commitment. Taiwan’s security depends less on US power than on US reliability, but Trump is undermining the latter. Deterrence without credibility is a hollow shield. Trump’s China policy in his second term has oscillated wildly between confrontation and conciliation. One day, he threatens Beijing with “massive” tariffs and calls China America’s “greatest geopolitical
Ahead of US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping’s (習近平) meeting today on the sidelines of the APEC summit in South Korea, an op-ed published in Time magazine last week maliciously called President William Lai (賴清德) a “reckless leader,” stirring skepticism in Taiwan about the US and fueling unease over the Trump-Xi talks. In line with his frequent criticism of the democratically elected ruling Democratic Progressive Party — which has stood up to China’s hostile military maneuvers and rejected Beijing’s “one country, two systems” framework — Lyle Goldstein, Asia engagement director at the US think tank Defense Priorities, called
A large majority of Taiwanese favor strengthening national defense and oppose unification with China, according to the results of a survey by the Mainland Affairs Council (MAC). In the poll, 81.8 percent of respondents disagreed with Beijing’s claim that “there is only one China and Taiwan is part of China,” MAC Deputy Minister Liang Wen-chieh (梁文傑) told a news conference on Thursday last week, adding that about 75 percent supported the creation of a “T-Dome” air defense system. President William Lai (賴清德) referred to such a system in his Double Ten National Day address, saying it would integrate air defenses into a
The central bank has launched a redesign of the New Taiwan dollar banknotes, prompting questions from Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislators — “Are we not promoting digital payments? Why spend NT$5 billion on a redesign?” Many assume that cash will disappear in the digital age, but they forget that it represents the ultimate trust in the system. Banknotes do not become obsolete, they do not crash, they cannot be frozen and they leave no record of transactions. They remain the cleanest means of exchange in a free society. In a fully digitized world, every purchase, donation and action leaves behind data.