Chinese names in English often carry historical baggage due to dialectal variations and romanization systems, which can trip up even the most careful translators. However, beyond the technicalities, a more pressing question arises: How should Chinese names be pronounced when placed in an English context?
Let us start with the order of names. In English, the given name comes before the surname. For years, many Chinese speakers have flipped their names to fit this Western convention when writing in English. For instance, Zhang San (張三) becomes San Zhang, which might leave English speakers thinking “San” is the surname and “Zhang” is the given name. That inversion feels awkward to the speaker and the listener.
Interestingly, English media often respect the Chinese tradition of placing the surname first. Whether referring to leaders or ordinary citizens, they consistently maintain the “surname-first” order. So why do we, as Chinese speakers, bend over backward to conform to a foreign convention when the world is already accommodating ours? It is time to embrace our naming tradition with confidence.
Then comes the tricky part: pronunciation. Many Chinese names are butchered in English, often sounding like a bad karaoke rendition. While it is understandable that non-native speakers struggle with tones and phonetics, we native speakers should strive to pronounce our names authentically, even in an English context.
The gold standard is to pronounce names in clear, standard Mandarin. For example, Zhang San should sound like “張三.” If tones are too challenging for English speakers, dropping them while retaining the basic pronunciation (for example, “張散” for Zhang San) is acceptable. However, completely anglicizing Chinese names — such as pronouncing Zhang San as “Jang San(d)” — feels like a cultural betrayal. After all, our names are part of our identity.
Of course, if someone has an English name, all bets are off. They are free to follow English naming conventions without judgement.
The same principles apply to Chinese place names, but with an added layer of historical complexity. Take for example “Soochow University,” the English name for Dongwu University (東吳大學), founded in Suzhou in 1900. “Soochow” is an old romanization of “Suzhou” (蘇州). When I pronounced it as “蘇州” in an English recording, a professor said it should be pronounced “Zhao” (超) to preserve its historical roots.
Similarly, “Taipei” (台北) is derived from the Wade-Giles romanization system, which originally included an apostrophe to indicate aspiration (T’aipei). Over time, the apostrophe was dropped, but should we still pronounce it as “台北” or anglicize it to “Tie-pay”?
The professor likened my approach to tearing down ancient buildings and replacing them with modern structures, saying it erases historical charm. However, “Soochow” and “Taipei” are merely romanized representations of Mandarin pronunciations. Pronouncing them as “蘇州” and “台北” aligns with their linguistic origins, not their spelling.
Some Chinese place names in English carry deep historical roots. “Cathay,” an archaic term for China, derives from the Khitan people. “China” traces back to Sanskrit. “Peking” (北京) reflects an older Mandarin pronunciation, while “Hong Kong” (香港) is firmly rooted in Cantonese. Those names have become entrenched in English and should be pronounced as they are.
For modern place names, I recommend sticking to standard Mandarin pronunciations: “Taipei” should ideally sound like “台北,” although dropping the tones to make it “胎貝” is a reasonable compromise. Fully anglicizing it to “Tie-pay” should be the last resort.
Ultimately, how we pronounce Chinese names and places in English reflects our cultural confidence. While it is understandable that non-native speakers might struggle, we should hold ourselves to a higher standard. After all, our names and places are more than just words — they are a part of who we are.
So, the next time you hear someone mispronounce “Zhang San” or “Taipei,” gently correct them. Remember, cultural pride starts with how we say our own names.
Hugo Tseng holds a doctorate in linguistics, and is a lexicographer and former chair of the Soochow University English Department.
The Executive Yuan recently revised a page of its Web site on ethnic groups in Taiwan, replacing the term “Han” (漢族) with “the rest of the population.” The page, which was updated on March 24, describes the composition of Taiwan’s registered households as indigenous (2.5 percent), foreign origin (1.2 percent) and the rest of the population (96.2 percent). The change was picked up by a social media user and amplified by local media, sparking heated discussion over the weekend. The pan-blue and pro-China camp called it a politically motivated desinicization attempt to obscure the Han Chinese ethnicity of most Taiwanese.
On Wednesday last week, the Rossiyskaya Gazeta published an article by Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) asserting the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) territorial claim over Taiwan effective 1945, predicated upon instruments such as the 1943 Cairo Declaration and the 1945 Potsdam Proclamation. The article further contended that this de jure and de facto status was subsequently reaffirmed by UN General Assembly Resolution 2758 of 1971. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs promptly issued a statement categorically repudiating these assertions. In addition to the reasons put forward by the ministry, I believe that China’s assertions are open to questions in international
The Legislative Yuan passed an amendment on Friday last week to add four national holidays and make Workers’ Day a national holiday for all sectors — a move referred to as “four plus one.” The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), who used their combined legislative majority to push the bill through its third reading, claim the holidays were chosen based on their inherent significance and social relevance. However, in passing the amendment, they have stuck to the traditional mindset of taking a holiday just for the sake of it, failing to make good use of
As strategic tensions escalate across the vast Indo-Pacific region, Taiwan has emerged as more than a potential flashpoint. It is the fulcrum upon which the credibility of the evolving American-led strategy of integrated deterrence now rests. How the US and regional powers like Japan respond to Taiwan’s defense, and how credible the deterrent against Chinese aggression proves to be, will profoundly shape the Indo-Pacific security architecture for years to come. A successful defense of Taiwan through strengthened deterrence in the Indo-Pacific would enhance the credibility of the US-led alliance system and underpin America’s global preeminence, while a failure of integrated deterrence would
RSS