During the Crusades, Christian forces and Muslim forces traded blows in the Holy Land. At the same time, Europeans and Arabs traded goods through an extensive trading network that passed through the Near East and the Mediterranean. In this episode, we look at traders and Crusaders, and we explore the impact of these developments on the English language.
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Blimey, Kevin. This is a long one. It will last me my whole commute tomorrow! 😀
Love the Blimey! It was an expression frequently used in Bluey and Curley the Aussie comic strip characters who were very popular during my childhood in WWII. And you use it in the same way. Did it begin as Bless me? How widespread is its use?
Denis, I believe “Blimey” is the eroded form of the curse “Blind me”, similar to “Damme eyes” or the vituperative “Blast your eyes” oaths.
Blimey was quite common in Britain when I was younger (60s/70s) and is still sometimes used, though normally with an ironically old-fashioned tone. Possibly the best-known use is in the song My Old Man’s a Dustman – “He wears cor blimey trousers” (cor blimey = God blind me).
Omg Nyki, we used to sing My Old Man’s a Dustman here in Australia when I was a child too (60/70s). Thanks for the delightful memory 😊
Another great episode, thanks Kevin. (In fact, I’m only half way through so far…)
Just had to make a small correct: “cumin”, although it entered English in the Old English period, does not derive from Arabic, but rather predates the rise of Islam, so any derivation from Arabic is extremely unlikely.
EtymOnline gives the etymology as:
cumin (n.)
Old English cymen, from Latin cuminum, from Greek kyminon, cognate with Hebrew kammon, Arabic kammun.
And the OED as:
Old English cymen, from Latin cuminum, from Greek kuminon, probably of Semitic origin and related to Hebrew kammōn and Arabic kammūn; superseded in Middle English by forms from Old French cumon, comin, also from Latin.
Hence, I suspect it entered Greek from Ancient Greek contact with Phoenicians or Syrians (likely the former, given their reputations traders), and later entered Latin, then French, then English. It is thus plausible that Phoenician gave the word to Hebrew and Arabic, or the root is an even older proto-Semitic one, which all languages inherited. In either case though, the derivation is not from Arabic, but rather only cognate.
Thanks. I should have said “Semitic” rather than “Arabic.”
Also, it seems that French “hasard” and English “hazard” do indeed descended from the Arabic word for dice (transliterated as “zahr”). This is further supported by the Spanish “azar”.
Interested in your own pronunciation Kevin of hospitaller and also of shallot. I took a while to hear the latter. You emphasise the first syllable in shallot. We emphasise the last. But we emphasise the first syllable in Hospitaller
I didn’t really give much thought to the pronunciation of those words. I think my pronunciation of “shallot” is the standard American pronunciation. With respect to “Hospitaller,” I just pronounced it in a way that felt natural to me.
Great episode one small comment. Jerusalem was reconquored by the Europeans from 1228 to 1244
Thanks for the correction. Duly noted.
A random comment about words.
You seemed to use the phrase “duly noted” in a sincere way, but I have only ever heard it (and used it) in a sarcastic way. Usually my parents say it when I’m complaining.
It’s strange how words have different connotations to different people.
Duly noted.
I didn’t intend the phrase “duly noted” in a sarcastic way. And I don’t really think of the term in that way. However, it is funny that the written language has such a difficult time with sarcasm – often failing to reflect a sarcastic intent and sometimes suggesting a meaning that wasn’t intended.
During your discussion of the etymology of alcohol from an Arabic term for eye makeup (koh’l), you neglected to mention that “kohl” as a word is still in use today with its original meaning, both as a specific cosmetic made from grinding a mineral (stibnite) and used in Asia, the Middle East, and Africa – but also as a more generic term for an eyeliner-type pencil in the West.
Thanks for the note. I don’t use eye makeup, so I plead ignorance. I really didn’t know that the terms were used for modern make-up.
Fantastic podcast Kevin. Your research and knowledge are incredibly impressive. And I love the style in which you weave the information in with the overall history. Such fun to listen to 🌟
I second Jen as far as the word koh’l is concerned. Definitely in widespread use today as kohl. In fact when you first started to build to the word I knew what it was before you said it and marvelled at the fact that both the word and the eye makeup are still in use today and I in fact have some in my makeup kit ☺️
The word in French for turkey is dinde, the etymology of which is poulet d’inde (chicken of India).
As Alex mentioned above, “hazard” persists in French as “hasard”. It retains its original meaning of “chance”. In fact it’s a very common word in everyday speech, since it’s used in an expression homologous to “by chance” (au hasard pron. o-azar). And a game of chance is a jeux de hasard.
Thanks for the note.
The persian phrase “shah māt” is also widely used in Indian subcontinent out of the chess context. Which we mean ‘there is no way out for you.’ I was fascinated to hear that. Thanks.
Could give me the reference book from where read this above phrase. So curious to know.
Hi Fayaz. Which phrase are you referring to?
“shah mat” the persian phrase.
The etymology of “checkmate” is well-attested. I like to use the Oxford English Dictionary, but etymonline.com contains the following entry as well:
checkmate – from Old French ‘eschew mat’ … which … is from Arabic ‘shah mat’ (“the king died”) which according to Barnhart is a misinterpretation of Persian ‘mat’ (“be astonished”) as ‘mata’ (“to die”), ‘mat’ (“he is dead”). Hence Persian ‘shah mat’, if it is the ultimate source of the word, would be literally “the king is left helpless, the king is stumped.”
I also recommend “A History of English in Its Own Words” by Craig M. Carver. That book has a very good discussion about the influence of chess terms on Middle English – including ‘shah mat.’
I don’t remember whether it was this episode or the last, but who had the history of Islam podcast? I can’t seem to find it.
Glad I’ve caught up from episode 1! Thanks for all this.
Elias Belhaddad is the host of the History of Islam Podcast. Here is a link to the podcast website: http://historyofislampodcast.blogspot.com/
Kevin,
If I heard it correctly, scallion comes from Ashkelon, but onion comes from union. It seems suspicious to me that the names of two so closely related roots would be unrelated and yet both end in ‘ion.’
The etymologies offered by Kevin are the most agreed-upon by linguists who look at a lot of primary sources and know what they’re talking about; additionally, -ion is a very common ending, especially in nouns inherited from Greek and to a certain extent Latin.
I can see where the similarities in meaning and pronunciation would lead you to suspect a deeper etymological connection between “scallion” and “onion.” However, the etymologies I presented are the same as those set forth in the Oxford English Dictionary. Though not necessarily infallible, I consider the OED to be the gold-standard of English etymology.
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Thanks, once again, I learned a lot. My question is about the Arabic word ‘garbala’ – sifting through. Could this possibly be related to ‘garbage’?
“Garble” and “garbage” are not apparently cognate, but they may be somewhat related. The ultimate origin of “garbage” is unknown, but many sources think it is an Anglo-French word, and in early English it referred to the parts of an animal that were thrown away and not used in the preparation of a meal. It seems that the words “garbage” and “garble” were confused in late Middle English era producing the word “garbelage.” That may have contributed to the sense of “garbage” as general refuse or waste that is removed from the premises. So any connection between them comes from this more recent confusion.
In British English we often use the word jollop for a liquid medicine , particularly one to get you ‘moving’. Do you think this could be related to julep?
Kevin, do you know if there was an Old English word for herbs? Or perhaps they didn’t use them?
This Lexilogos page has very useful tools about Old English. “Herb” as “medicinal herb” was “læcewyrt” and “wyrt” meant “1. plant 2. vegetable 3. herb ; spice.”
As noted above, the Old English word for an herb was “wyrt,” which is the original version of the modern word “wort” as in St. John’s Wort. The word is discussed in ‘Episode 137: A Rose By Any Other Name.’
Kevin, I’m wondering about your use of the phrase “Near East”. In the UK we refer to this area exclusively as the Middle East – is “Near East” perhaps American English, or maybe it’s the name of the region at this time?
The terms are somewhat interchangeable, but I think “Near East” is the older, more traditional term that is still commonly used by academics, especially historians. “Middle East” is more common in contemporary usage, especially in modern political and cultural discussions. I chose to use “Near East” because it seems to be the more common term used when discussing ancient history or the Middle Ages.
Hi Kevin,
I discovered the podcast earlier this year and I’ve been thoroughly enjoying it! In your discussion of bazaars in this episode you made repeated mentions of the bazaar as a place where Europeans would encounter goods that might have seemed odd or strange to them. I started to suspect that there might be a link between bazaar and the word “bizarre,” but you didn’t make any mention of that and from a brief look on the internet the consensus seems to be that the two words don’t have any shared etymology. Do you know anything about this?
Thanks,
Sam
Another great episode—I’ve come late to your podcast, and am enjoying it tremendously.
When I was in Grenada some years ago, we were told at a museum that Ferdinand initially rejected Columbus’s plea, but Isabella gave him her jewels to help fund the expedition.
The marriage of King Ferdinand of Aragon and Queen Isabella of Castilla-y-León also brought about the union of the two major dialects of Old Spanish, and created the modern Spanish language. Segovia was the seat of Isabella’s government, and it’s a fascinating city to visit today.
Many thanks!