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Language Learning Science

Jīdū

Jīdū (Christ 基督) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Earlier Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus material rendered the English meaning of “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” as “Foundation · {Directing (Person)} → [Christ]”, on the supposition that the meanings of the Mandarin syllables used in “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” may have mattered in their selection for inclusion in “Jīdū (Christ 基督)”. (In contrast, “Yēsū (Jesus 耶稣 耶穌)” (Jesus) is a name, not a title like “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” is, so, like the Mandarin syllables used in other Mandarin names of Bible personages, the Mandarin syllables for “Yēsū (Jesus 耶稣 耶穌)” were obviously also chosen mainly for their sounds, with only secondary consideration given to their meanings.) Unfortunately, while it seems to make some sense, it turns out that this earlier rendering of the English meaning of “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” was a case of Trying Too Hard 😜. (Oh, well, as I once heard a cable guy say as he was preparing to make a new cable, “too much is better than not enough”.)

Now, when one looks up “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” in the Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus Expressions resource, one will see a note about why the English meaning of “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” is now simply rendered as “Christ”:

(This is a transcription of “Christ”, so the syllables were chosen mainly for their sound, not their meaning. For more info, see this Language Log post by Victor Mair.)

Who Is Victor Mair and What Did He Say About This?

Victor H. Mair, who has been mentioned several times in this blog, is an American sinologist and a University of Pennsylvania Professor of East Asian Languages and Civilizations. He also inspired and helped to edit the highly regarded ABC Chinese-English Dictionary. So, we can be pretty sure he knows what he’s talking about when it comes to Mandarin words. (In fact, for what it’s worth, after my several years of researching the Mandarin language, I have come to consider him the most trustworthy living scholarly authority on the Chinese languages.)

Concerning the etymology of “Jīdū (Christ 基督)”, Prof. Mair said the following in the above-mentioned Language Log blog post:

Jīdū 基督 is a short form of Jīlìsīdū 基利斯督, which is a transcription of “Christ”, from Ancient Greek Χριστός (Khristós).

So, I revised the English meaning in the Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus Expressions resource entry for “Jīdū (Christ 基督)”, added the note quoted above, and am gradually revising occurrences of “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” in existing Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus material as time allows. Of course, going forward, new Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus material that includes the expression “Jīdū (Christ 基督)” will simply use “Christ” as its English meaning.

A Reminder That Speech Is Primary

This situation with “Jīdū (Christ 基督)”, in which the deciding factor in how the word is formed is how it sounds, reminds us that regardless of the Chinese cultural obsession with characters and the meanings represented by their intricate visual designs, the basic scientific principle about human languages holds true, that the primary aspect of human languages is actually speech, which represents meanings with sounds. Writing, even writing as revered as Chinese characters are with all their visual embellishments, is at best secondary.

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Culture Current Events History

wēijī

wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

As of this writing, jw.org is featuring the article “Ukraine War Fuels Global Food Crisis”. The Mandarin version of this article uses “quánqiú (quán·qiú entire · globe → [global] 全球) liángshi (liáng·shi {grain → [food]} · {eating (matter) → [food]} → [food] 粮食 糧食) wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” to correspond with “global food crisis”.

The previous use on jw.org of “nànmín (nàn·mín calamity · {persons of a certain occupation} → [refugees] 难民 難民) cháo (tide → [(social) upsurge] 潮)” to correspond with “refugee crisis” (as discussed in a past MEotW post) makes for an interesting contrast—the use here of “cháo (tide → [(social) upsurge] 潮)”, literally meaning “tide”, is relatively specific, whereas “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” is more generally used to correspond with “crisis”.

The “Danger + Opportunity” Trope

Wēijī (Wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” has unfortunately been used—or misused—by Westerners so much to refer to positive opportunity in the midst of danger that there is a whole Wikipedia article on that.

Other articles have been written on this subject as well, such as the following:

Are All Opportunities Good?

It seems that the crux of the issue is the morpheme “ ({machine; mechanism [→ [airplane; aircraft | being organic]]} | {incipient moment; crucial point} | chance; opportunity; occasion機/机)” in “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)”, and how it does or doesn’t relate to the English word “opportunity”.

The English word “opportunity” is often defined as a situation that is favourable or allowing for progress. Naturally, people love progress and things that are favourable, so many naturally want to believe that “opportunity” being a possible meaning of the “ ({machine; mechanism [→ [airplane; aircraft | being organic]]} | {incipient moment; crucial point} | chance; opportunity; occasion機/机)” in “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” means that they can find some favourable things for themselves in any crisis, because “the Chinese say so”.

It should be noted, though, that technically, an opportunity is not necessarily always a positive thing. One dictionary in fact defines an “opportunity” as “a time or set of circumstances that makes it possible to do something”, and not all possibilities are positive—it depends on who or what a possibility is for.

Possibilities

Speaking of possibilities, both “wēi (danger | dangerous | endanger 危)” and “ ({machine; mechanism [→ [airplane; aircraft | being organic]]} | {incipient moment; crucial point} | chance; opportunity; occasion機/机)” (but especially “ ({machine; mechanism [→ [airplane; aircraft | being organic]]} | {incipient moment; crucial point} | chance; opportunity; occasion機/机)”) are polysemous, that is, having many possible related meanings—they are sort of like linguistic Schrödinger’s cats that could be in several possible states until sufficient context collapses the possibilities into one (or perhaps, still, a few).

How do the possibilities collapse when “wēi (danger | dangerous | endanger 危)” and “ ({machine; mechanism [→ [airplane; aircraft | being organic]]} | {incipient moment; crucial point} | chance; opportunity; occasion機/机)” are put together as “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” and then used in typical contexts? Since “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” is a Mandarin word, the most important context to consider is that of the Mandarin language itself.

How does “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” work as a word in the Mandarin language? For what it’s worth, my sense, influenced by decades of translating Mandarin words into English, is that “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)”, as used in Mandarin, should be understood to primarily mean an incipient moment, or even opportunity, for danger itself, not for a Western or other opportunist who tries to make the situation about himself/herself. That is to say, with a Mandarin wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機), the focus is primarily on how in the situation referred to, dangerous things could happen. As Prof. Mair says in his essay mentioned above:

If one wishes to wax philosophical about the of wēijī, one might elaborate upon it as the dynamic of a situation’s unfolding, when many elements are at play. In this sense, is neutral. This can either turn out for better or for worse, but — when coupled with wēi — the possibility of a highly undesirable outcome (whether in life, disease, finance, or war) is uppermost in the mind of the person who invokes this potent term.

Even the seemingly unrelated meaning for “ ({machine; mechanism [→ [airplane; aircraft | being organic]]} | {incipient moment; crucial point} | chance; opportunity; occasion機/机)” of “machine” or “mechanism” may be (somewhat, at least) connected to the concept of “opportunity”, since, as the tech lovers among us know, machines and mechanisms make possible things that were not possible before, opening up opportunities for good or bad things to happen, depending on who or what uses them, and how. Also, in an abstract way, a situation can be likened to a machine or mechanism with which certain inputs can cause certain things to happen. With “wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)”, the input of concern is danger.

Responding Well to Crises

It is true, though, that how we respond to the potential dangers of an actual wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機), an actual crisis, can determine whether we end up better off or worse off. For example, the recent daily text for June 3, 2022 discussed 2 Corinthians 12:10, in which the apostle Paul said he ‘took pleasure’ in various crises as opportunities to exercise reliance on “the power of the Christ” rather than on his own relative insignificant power. (2 Corinthians 12:9) Thus, he would become truly powerful. As shown by a cross reference in the New World Translation Study Bible, related to this is what Paul wrote in Philippians 4:13:

“For all things I have the strength through the one who gives me power.”

So, while the Mandarin expression “quánqiú (quán·qiú entire · globe → [global] 全球) liángshi (liáng·shi {grain → [food]} · {eating (matter) → [food]} → [food] 粮食 糧食) wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機)” directly refers to potential dangers relating to global food availability, a quánqiú (quán·qiú entire · globe → [global] 全球) liángshi (liáng·shi {grain → [food]} · {eating (matter) → [food]} → [food] 粮食 糧食) wēijī (wēi·jī {dangerous | endangering} · {incipient moment; crucial point | occasion} | {(for) danger} · occasion; opportunity → [crisis] 危机 危機) also provides opportunity for us to exercise reliance on Jehovah and his King, Jesus, as the apostle Paul did. Additionally, it may give us opportunities to share the good news of God’s Kingdom with people who are receptive to it, as it becomes more and more evident that only God’s Kingdom can truly bring an end to such crises.

Categories
History Language Learning Languages

Hànzì

Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字)” is what Chinese characters are called in Mandarin. Actually, “Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字)” literally means “Han characters”, but as discussed in the MEotW post on “Hànyǔ (Hàn·yǔ {Han (Chinese)} · Language [→ [(Modern Standard) Mandarin]] 汉语 漢語)”, the Han are by far the largest ethnic group in China, and they are the dominant cultural force in China. Thus, Han characters are, in effect, Chinese characters.

漢字 汉字

Han culture has affected not only China, but also many of the surrounding nations. The words used by some of these nations to refer to “Chinese characters” are obvious echoes of “Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字)”:

  • Japanese: kanji
  • Korean: Hanja
  • Vietnamese: hán tự

Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) are still used a lot in modern Japanese writing. However, although Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) used to be the dominant writing system in Korea and in Vietnam, those nations have moved on to mainly use alphabetic writing systems.

The Korean Connection

Regarding the situation in Korea, the Awake! article “Let’s Try Writing in Hankul!” says:

BEFORE Hankul [or Hangul] was created, the Korean language did not have its own script. For more than a thousand years, educated Koreans wrote their language using Chinese characters. Over the years, however, various attempts were made to devise a better writing system. But since all of them were based on Chinese characters, only the well-educated could use them.

King Sejong spearheaded the creation of an alphabet that would both suit spoken Korean and be easy to learn and use.

Sadly, some scholars opposed Hankul, precisely because it was so easy to learn! They derisively called it Amkul, meaning “women’s letters.” They disdained a system that could be learned even by women, who back then were not taught to read in the schools. This prejudice against Hankul persisted among upper-class Koreans for some time. In fact, more than 400 years elapsed before the Korean government declared that Hankul could be used in official documents.

The Chinese Conundrum

How about the writing system situation in China itself? Do the Chinese languages need to be written using Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字)? Chinese traditionalists have influenced many people to assume so, but there is actually no technical linguistic requirement that any Chinese language be written using Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字)—writing Chinese languages using Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) is purely and merely a deeply embedded tradition.

Proof that the use of Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) is merely a tradition and not a technical requirement comes from the fact that Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音), a phonetic alphabetic system designed by a Chinese government team, is a good, workable full writing system for Modern Standard Mandarin.

Why has China held on to its traditional use of Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) when other nations have moved on to alphabetic writing systems? As mentioned in the MEotW post on “Zhōngguó (Zhōng·guó Central · Nation → [China | Chinese] 中国 中國)”,

Some wonder why China has held on to its archaic characters writing system instead of moving on to using a modern alphabetic writing system like almost every other nation does, even though outstanding native sons like Lǔ Xùn ((Lǔ Stupid; Rash (surname)) (Xùn Fast; Quick; Swift 迅) (pen name of Zhōu Shùrén, the greatest Chinese writer of the 20th cent. and a strong advocate of alphabetic writing)) have advocated strongly for that. Perhaps the proud self-centredness of the only nation to name itself the centre of the world provides a clue….

When the Communists took over China a few years after World War II, their Plan A for China’s writing system situation actually did involve eventually moving on from the characters to an alphabetic writing system that would be developed, which turned out to be Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音). However, the government needed the help of the people already educated in Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字), and many of these people opposed this plan that they feared would involve leaving behind, or at least de-emphasizing, a cultural tradition that they were very proud of, that they had invested very much time and effort into mastering, and that gave them much prestige in the existing environment.1 In other words, the pride and prejudice of those who had already been educated in the Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) caused them to disparage and oppose the idea of a simpler alternative writing system, just as had been the case in Korea, as noted above. So, the simplification of the Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) is the farthest China has gotten so far with regard to official writing system reform, and even that has only been achieved in the face of much criticism and opposition.

Chairman Máo Zédōng ((Máo Hair (surname) 毛) (Zé·dōng Marsh · East 泽东 澤東) (the founder of the People’s Republic of China)) (Wikipedia article) himself supported continuing to move on, from simplification of the characters to actually adopting Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as a writing system. In a letter to an old schoolmate, he wrote:

Pinyin writing is a form of writing that is relatively convenient. Chinese characters are too complicated and difficult. At present we are only engaged in reform along the lines of simplification, but some day in the future we must inevitably carry out a basic reform.2

Letter from Mao endorsing a transition from Chinese characters to alphabetic writing

While obviously what Máo ((Máo Hair (surname) 毛) (abbr. for Máo Zédōng, the founder of the People’s Republic of China)) foresaw regarding a writing system “basic reform” in China has not yet come true, American sinologist and University of Pennsylvania Professor of East Asian Languages and Civilizations Victor H. Mair wrote in a blog post:

So, those who are in favor of HP [Hànyǔ (Hàn·yǔ {Han (Chinese)} · Language → [(Modern Standard) Mandarin] 汉语 漢語) Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音)] don’t need to be concerned, and those who are opposed to HP don’t need to be frightened. HP is ineluctably playing a greater and greater role in the educational, cultural, social, political, and every other aspect of the lives of Chinese citizens, and this is occurring without regard to anyone pushing it as a governmental program. It is happening because of the wishes of those who actually use it for a wide variety of helpful purposes.

Digraphia [the use of more than one writing system for the same language, in this case the use of both Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) and Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) for writing Modern Standard Mandarin] is emerging before our very eyes, enabling people to use the alphabet and the characters for whatever purposes they deem suitable. Nobody needs to take a vote or carry out a survey for this to happen.

Tourists or Missionaries?

Regardless of how worldly Chinese people view the Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字), how should we dedicated Mandarin field language-learners view them? It would be easy to fall back on the commonly accepted view, the tourist’s view, that the Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) are an integral and fascinating part of China’s precious cultural heritage that we should duly respect and even heap adulation upon.

However, as Mandarin field language-learners, we are not in the Mandarin field to be tourists just enjoying the exotic foreign culture. On the contrary, we must be more like missionaries or spiritual rescue workers involved in an urgent life-saving work, because lives are indeed involved. As ones involved in an urgent, life-saving work, we need tools, technologies, and systems that efficiently and effectively help us to get this work done without wasting time and effort when people’s everlasting lives are at stake. From this sober and pragmatic angle, the extraordinarily difficult-to-learn-and-remember Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) are far from ideal. Thus, while there is obviously value in learning as many Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字) as one is reasonably able to, it is fortunate that Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) exists and is available as a simple, effective alternative writing system for Mandarin, for the many times when it is not necessary to use Hànzì (Hàn·zì {Han (Chinese)} · Characters 汉字 漢字).

1. John DeFrancis, The Chinese Language: Fact and Fantasy (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1984), p. 258. ^

2. Ibid., p. 295. ^