A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME
A few weeks ago (I've been busy, OK?) the International Herald Tribune ran a story about the issue of English names in Asia. The article discussed the fact that Hong Kong should be Xianggang, using the Chinese system of Romanization that gave us Beijing for Peking, and Guangzhou for Canton. It's an interesting article because it points out the difficulty in keeping track of names and not offending (do you say Madras, or Chennai).
It seems that there are three strains of name changes. The first is that discussed above. China and India, and various places in Africa exert their place in the world by forcing a name change. It is sort of like rebranding, in that it is intended to change the way you think about the place. Belgian Congo must be a real playa, because their the much hipper Zaire now (admittedly, a rebranding that has been undone). India is a playa, and you know it because they are making you call Bombay Mumbai for no reason other than because they said so.
The second group is not to assert a place in the world, but to exclude people from a place. Thus, the right wing Austrian press insisted on referring to Bratislava as Preßburg at least into the 1990s. When the Russians renamed Königsberg Kaliningrad after World War II, it was to make the unmistakable point that the city was no longer German, and never would be again. This worked both ways, so that when you buy a map of Central Europe, it is best to seek one that lists the cities in countries in the local language. Otherwise, you may search in vain Leibach as you drive through Slovenia, and arrive in Warsaw before you get to Thorn from Berlin.
These two impulses to rename are in stark contrast to the bulk of the American experience. While Fort Duquesne did become Fort Pitt (thence Pittsburgh) and New Amsterdam did become New York, Louisville, New Orleans, Santa Fe, Los Angeles, San Francisco, St. Louis, Mackinac Island, and innumerable other French and Spanish names were retained even as they became English or American.
Finally, for anyone who has ever been to, or near, Pekin, Illinois, it is interesting to note that Pekin is French for Beijing. Thus, little Pekin joins the ranks of Canton, Ohio and other Cantons throughout the US (including Illinois) as cities inexplicably named after Chinese cities. I say inexplicably because normally, say New Berlin is (or was) full of Germans. Pekin, Illinois is sure as Deere & Co. not full of Chinese.
AUSTRO-HUNGARY
The Habsburg Empire (d/b/a Austria-Hungary) was a strange and somewhat random collection of land. It lacked any of the characteristics that we have come to think of as inherently unifying. It did not have a common language, it did not have a common history, it was predominantly Roman Catholic, but not exclusively, and its constituent peoples largely felt whatever loyalty they felt to the monarch, rather than their fellow Austro-Hungarians. Ultimately, the fundamental issue with the empire is highlighted by the extreme difficulty in using a collective noun for its residents. They were not generally "Habsburgs," since this is a family name. Most were neither Austrian nor Hungarian. In fact, the vast Slavic population of Poles, Bohemians, Slovakians, Croatians, Slovenians, Ruthenians and others were wholly unrepresented. In the age of nationalism, the empire created a lot of crazy issues on its fringes.
The International Herald Tribune carried two stories in the last few weeks that highlighted the effect of the ebb and flow of the empire in one forgotten corner of Europe. The first is about Trieste, Italy. This was once the major sea port for Austria-Hungary and a major base for the imperial navy (which is how land-locked Hungary ended up with a dictator with the title Admiral in the interwar period). The end of this favored position came in the 20th century, when Trieste changed hands five separate times, with the Austro-Hungarians, Italians, Germans, Yugoslavs, Americans, and finally the Italians administering the territory at some point during the century. However, the wheels really came off after World War II, when the city was awarded to Italy, but its immediate and historic hinterlands were awarded to Yugoslavia. With Central Europe split into east and west, and the city suddenly a border town with no hinterland, the trade routes that were its lifeblood were redirected and the city withered as sort of the worst of the west.
A little further to the east, Slovenia is a very small Alpine state, with about 2,000,000 residents. It was in the same World War I battle zone as Trieste, and also saw enormous numbers of its residents killed on each side of that conflict. However, Slovenia was firmly part of Austria-Hungary until the empire crumbled in 1918. Slovenia was taken into the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. Thus, in an instant the political center of gravity went from Vienna south to Belgrade. In 1941, when the Axis attacked Yugoslavia (as the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenians was then known), Slovenia was largely incorporated into Nazi Germany, with the remainder split between Hungary and Italy. Thus, Berlin, Budapest, and Rome became the political centers. After World War II Slovenia was again incorporated into Yugoslavia, where it stayed until 1991, when it became independent. On May 1, 2004 the country entered the European Union, with its political center in Brussels. This was made possible by the fact that Slovenia, directly next to Trieste had the advantage of being the best of the east, with the benefits inherent in that position.
The real synthesis here though is that the Triestians (?) and Slovenians were as close as two neighbors could be on the Romance, Germanic, Slavic axis of Europe. Trieste ended up maintaining its more or less Italian character and withering without the access to Central Europe that made it an important city. Slovenia suffered the same vagaries of history and occupation, but ended up on the bad side of the iron curtain. However, Slovenia fared substantially better over time than did Trieste. This is in direct contrast to (a) our expectations, and (b) the experience of so many other places, including most obviously East and West Berlin.
BOOK REPORT
I finished The Thought Gang by Tibor Fischer. It is absurdist, so the idea of a "plot" can get lost in the facts of the book. Suffice it to say that a failed English philosopher on the lam accidentally ends up in a bank robbery gang with a French thug. The book is smart and funny. I will, of course, read it several more times and get something new from it every time, but not right now.
YALE? REALLY?
By the way, the Houston Chronicle, which has been roundly lambasted in this space, has come up with another gem Today they carried a story indicating that . . . wait for it . . . John Kerry and George Bush both went to Yale! What gound breaking coverage from such a complete rag.
A few weeks ago (I've been busy, OK?) the International Herald Tribune ran a story about the issue of English names in Asia. The article discussed the fact that Hong Kong should be Xianggang, using the Chinese system of Romanization that gave us Beijing for Peking, and Guangzhou for Canton. It's an interesting article because it points out the difficulty in keeping track of names and not offending (do you say Madras, or Chennai).
It seems that there are three strains of name changes. The first is that discussed above. China and India, and various places in Africa exert their place in the world by forcing a name change. It is sort of like rebranding, in that it is intended to change the way you think about the place. Belgian Congo must be a real playa, because their the much hipper Zaire now (admittedly, a rebranding that has been undone). India is a playa, and you know it because they are making you call Bombay Mumbai for no reason other than because they said so.
The second group is not to assert a place in the world, but to exclude people from a place. Thus, the right wing Austrian press insisted on referring to Bratislava as Preßburg at least into the 1990s. When the Russians renamed Königsberg Kaliningrad after World War II, it was to make the unmistakable point that the city was no longer German, and never would be again. This worked both ways, so that when you buy a map of Central Europe, it is best to seek one that lists the cities in countries in the local language. Otherwise, you may search in vain Leibach as you drive through Slovenia, and arrive in Warsaw before you get to Thorn from Berlin.
These two impulses to rename are in stark contrast to the bulk of the American experience. While Fort Duquesne did become Fort Pitt (thence Pittsburgh) and New Amsterdam did become New York, Louisville, New Orleans, Santa Fe, Los Angeles, San Francisco, St. Louis, Mackinac Island, and innumerable other French and Spanish names were retained even as they became English or American.
Finally, for anyone who has ever been to, or near, Pekin, Illinois, it is interesting to note that Pekin is French for Beijing. Thus, little Pekin joins the ranks of Canton, Ohio and other Cantons throughout the US (including Illinois) as cities inexplicably named after Chinese cities. I say inexplicably because normally, say New Berlin is (or was) full of Germans. Pekin, Illinois is sure as Deere & Co. not full of Chinese.
AUSTRO-HUNGARY
The Habsburg Empire (d/b/a Austria-Hungary) was a strange and somewhat random collection of land. It lacked any of the characteristics that we have come to think of as inherently unifying. It did not have a common language, it did not have a common history, it was predominantly Roman Catholic, but not exclusively, and its constituent peoples largely felt whatever loyalty they felt to the monarch, rather than their fellow Austro-Hungarians. Ultimately, the fundamental issue with the empire is highlighted by the extreme difficulty in using a collective noun for its residents. They were not generally "Habsburgs," since this is a family name. Most were neither Austrian nor Hungarian. In fact, the vast Slavic population of Poles, Bohemians, Slovakians, Croatians, Slovenians, Ruthenians and others were wholly unrepresented. In the age of nationalism, the empire created a lot of crazy issues on its fringes.
The International Herald Tribune carried two stories in the last few weeks that highlighted the effect of the ebb and flow of the empire in one forgotten corner of Europe. The first is about Trieste, Italy. This was once the major sea port for Austria-Hungary and a major base for the imperial navy (which is how land-locked Hungary ended up with a dictator with the title Admiral in the interwar period). The end of this favored position came in the 20th century, when Trieste changed hands five separate times, with the Austro-Hungarians, Italians, Germans, Yugoslavs, Americans, and finally the Italians administering the territory at some point during the century. However, the wheels really came off after World War II, when the city was awarded to Italy, but its immediate and historic hinterlands were awarded to Yugoslavia. With Central Europe split into east and west, and the city suddenly a border town with no hinterland, the trade routes that were its lifeblood were redirected and the city withered as sort of the worst of the west.
A little further to the east, Slovenia is a very small Alpine state, with about 2,000,000 residents. It was in the same World War I battle zone as Trieste, and also saw enormous numbers of its residents killed on each side of that conflict. However, Slovenia was firmly part of Austria-Hungary until the empire crumbled in 1918. Slovenia was taken into the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. Thus, in an instant the political center of gravity went from Vienna south to Belgrade. In 1941, when the Axis attacked Yugoslavia (as the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenians was then known), Slovenia was largely incorporated into Nazi Germany, with the remainder split between Hungary and Italy. Thus, Berlin, Budapest, and Rome became the political centers. After World War II Slovenia was again incorporated into Yugoslavia, where it stayed until 1991, when it became independent. On May 1, 2004 the country entered the European Union, with its political center in Brussels. This was made possible by the fact that Slovenia, directly next to Trieste had the advantage of being the best of the east, with the benefits inherent in that position.
The real synthesis here though is that the Triestians (?) and Slovenians were as close as two neighbors could be on the Romance, Germanic, Slavic axis of Europe. Trieste ended up maintaining its more or less Italian character and withering without the access to Central Europe that made it an important city. Slovenia suffered the same vagaries of history and occupation, but ended up on the bad side of the iron curtain. However, Slovenia fared substantially better over time than did Trieste. This is in direct contrast to (a) our expectations, and (b) the experience of so many other places, including most obviously East and West Berlin.
BOOK REPORT
I finished The Thought Gang by Tibor Fischer. It is absurdist, so the idea of a "plot" can get lost in the facts of the book. Suffice it to say that a failed English philosopher on the lam accidentally ends up in a bank robbery gang with a French thug. The book is smart and funny. I will, of course, read it several more times and get something new from it every time, but not right now.
YALE? REALLY?
By the way, the Houston Chronicle, which has been roundly lambasted in this space, has come up with another gem Today they carried a story indicating that . . . wait for it . . . John Kerry and George Bush both went to Yale! What gound breaking coverage from such a complete rag.
posted by David at 9:37 AM
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