What’s in a Text?: Intentional and Affective Fallacies and the Logical Fallacy of Arguments from Silence

Creative Writing, Geography, Literary & Linguistics, Medieval history,, Performing arts, Regional History, Social History, Society & Culture, Travel, Visual Arts, World history,

Exegesis: Relegating the author In literary and artistic aesthetics the intentional fallacy occurs when readers or viewers use factors outside the text or visual work (such as biographical information) to evaluate its merits, rather than ignoring these “external” factors and relying solely on the textual or visual evidence of the novel, play, poem, painting, etc. to assess the work in question (what’s actually in the text and nothing outside). This key precept of the New Criticism school declares that a poem (or other work of art) does not belong to its author, it is (as stated by the term’s originators WK Wimsatt and MC Beardsley) “detached from the author at birth and goes about the world beyond his power to intend about it or control it”1⃞. Authorial intention is a non-consideration in the assessment of the work. The text or work has an objective status and its meaning belongs solely to the reading or viewing public. The reader’s task in literature, advocates of New Criticism assert, is to eschew subjective or personal aspects such as the lives and psychology of authors and literary history and focus entirely on close reading and explication of the text (A Glossary of Literary Terms (4th edition, 1981), edited by M.H. Abrams).

The intentional fallacy, elaborated in Wimsatt’s 1954 The Verbal Icon

The intentional fallacy doctrine has a corollary in the affective fallacy which adheres to the same principles. Wimsatt and Beardsley affirmed that evaluating a poem by its effects—especially its emotional effects—upon the reader, is an erroneous way of approaching the task. Giving rein to the emotions a work of art evokes in you, negates an appreciation of “the (work’s) inherent qualities and craftsmanship” that an objective analysis permits (Prince Kumar, ‘Understand Affective Fallacy from Example’, LitforIndia, 23-Dec-2023, www.litforindia.com).

(source: cornerstoneduluth.org)

Semantic autonomy, Intentionalism, Anti-intentionalism: The intentional and affective fallacies as prescriptive “rules” of hermeneutics held sway from the 1940s to the 1970s, however this is not to say that there was no pushback from scholarly dissenters. Proponents (primarily American) of what is called “Reader-response theory” reject the claims of New Criticism of this prescribed mode of interpreting and critiquing a work of literature. Some of these objected to the fallacy’s nothing outside the text rigidity for constricting exploration of all possibilities of a work’s meanings. Critic Norman Holland frames it in a psychoanalytical context, the reader, he affirms, will react to a literary text with the same psychological responses he or she brings to events in their daily lives, ie, “the immediate goal of interpretation is to fulfil (one’s) psychological needs and desires” (‘Psychological Reader-response Theory’, Nasrullah Mambrol, Literary Theory and Criticism (2016), www.literariness.org). Theorist ED Hirsch in his “Objective Interpretation” essay also took issue with the expositors of the intentional fallacy thesis, arguing that on the contrary authorial intent (intentionalism) was integral to a full understanding of the work…the only meaning that is permanent and valid is that of the author in question, the reader should confine him or herself to interpreting what the author is trying to say (E.D. Hirsch, Jr, Validity in Interpretation, 1967) .

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A quite different kind of fallacious argument is the argument from silence (Latin: argumentum ex silentio). This arises when a conclusion or inference is drawn based on an absence of statements in historical documents and source materials…the argument seeks not to challenge or rebut specific things an author includes in a book or document, but is critical of the author for something they should have said but didn’t! The most common instances of the argument from silence in practice relate to biblical debates and controversies, but a contemporary classic example of a non-theological, historical nature, one generating considerable heated discourse, concerns the 13th century merchant and explorer Marco Polo and the famous book of his travels in the East.

Medieval Venezia at the time of Marco Polo (source: Bodleian Library, Oxford)

Medieval world travelogue guru?: Known by various names including Description of the World (Divisament du monde), Book of the Marvels of the World, Il libro di Marco Polo detto il Milione, The Book of Ser Marco Polo, the Venetian, or simply The Travels of Marco Polo, the book is one of the most celebrated tomes in the annals of literature dealing with the experiences of travellers to distant and unknown lands. The story, told and retold in numerous languages over centuries, presents Marco and his father Niccolò and uncle Maffeo embarking on an epic road trip along the Silk Road to the court of the Great Khan in Khanbaliq (Beijing). The book recounts Marco’s travels in Cathay (North China) and Manji (South China), among other Eastern lands. The consensus among most historians is that Signor Polo, despite a tendency to exaggerate and embellish the tales of his travels2⃞, did nonetheless journey to China as he claimed in the book. The publication of Did Marco Polo Go to China? by Frances Wood in 1995 controversially swam against this tide. Wood infers serious doubts about Polo’s achievements, suggesting that despite his being away from his native Italy for the best part of a quarter-of-a-century, he never reached his intended destination China. According to Wood, he got only as far as Constantinople and the Black Sea where he accumulated all of his information on Chinese society and other Asian lands (his source material for the “Travels”) from picking the brains of visiting Persian merchants.

A page from the Polo travelogue

Doubting “Marco’s millions”: What made Wood so convinced that Marco Polo never visited China? Firstly, there is the book’s puzzling itinerary, it proceeds in a disjointed, incoherent fashion, is not uniformly chronological, has some odd detours and gets some geographical place names in China wrong. Then, while acknowledging The Travels of Marco Polo contains references to porcelain (from Fujian province), coal, rice-wine, paper currency and other items, Wood hones in on the fact that the Venetian traveller failed to mention certain other quintessentially Chinese things—namely the Great Wall of China, tea, chopsticks, cormorant fishing and the practice of foot-binding—in the pages of his “Travels’. Wood also picks up on Polo’s failure to learn Chinese during his sojourn in the Middle Kingdom. Allied to these omissions was the absence of Polo’s3⃞ name in any official Chinese document of the period, which Wood believed, further incriminated Marco as the perpetrator of a fraud.

A crumbling section of the not-so-great wall in north China built prior to Polo’s time (photo: John Man, The Great Wall)

Wood herself is perpetrating a pattern of reasoning which is problematic by recourse to an argument from silence. As Sven Bernecker and Duncan Pritchard in The Routledge Companion to Epistemology (2010) (ISBN0-415-96219-6Routledge pp. 64–65) note, “arguments from silence are, as a rule, quite weak; there are many examples where reasoning from silence would lead us astray.” Academic critics have been quick to pinpoint the shortcomings and misconceptions in Wood’s argument. There are, they counter, manifestly valid reasons why Polo would not refer to the Great Wall, for one, it was largely not there in the period of his residency in China! The impressive edifice of the Great Wall as we think of it was primarily a product of the Ming Dynasty (from 1368, three-quarters of a century after the Polos’ stay)…what there was of the not-so-Great Wall prior to that was a much more modest, unprepossessing sight (“a discontinuous series of derelict, pounded earth ramparts”) (‘F. Wood’s Did Marco Polo Go To China?’, A Critical Appraisal byI. de Rachewiltz, http://openresearch–repository.anu.edu.au). With the matter of the Chinese penchant for tea-drinking, perhaps Polo didn’t think the topic simply sufficiently noteworthy to rate a mention4⃞. The question of the omission of foot-binding, chopsticks and Polo’s linguistic ignorance of Chinese in the travelogue can all be accounted for. China and the royal court was under Mongol control (Yuan Dynasty) in Marco’s time, accordingly Polo moved in those circles, tending not to mix with the (Han) Chinese population. and so lacked the motivation (or opportunity) to learn Chinese. Likewise, he wouldn’t have encountered many upper class Chinese women in their homes, this was the strata of society that practiced female foot-binding, not the Mongols. Again, with chopsticks, not a utensil of choice for the Mongols who Polo tended to fraternise with (Morgan, D. O. (1996). Marco Polo in China-Or Not [Review of Did Marco Polo Go to China?, by F. Wood]. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society6(2), 221–225. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25183182). As for “the Travels’” silence on fishing with cormorants, the activity was not a widespread phenomena in China during the Yuan era, confined to the remoter areas of Sichuan Province (‘Cormorant Fishing in China’, Sally Guo, China Travel (Upd. 04-April-2021), www.chinatravel.com).

MP (source: caamadi.com/de/marco-polo-in-venice)

Filtered Marco Polo – Rustichello et al: And there’s another line of thought when considerating the book’s glaring omissions, inconsistencies and inaccuracies that Frances Wood doesn’t seem to have factored into her thesis…The Travels of Marco Polo, the published book we read today, is a different beast in form and content to the original article from the late 1290s. In fact the original manuscript which Polo dictated to his amanuensis, an imaginative romance writer Rustichello de Pisa —who had licence to inject his own theatrical flourishes and flavour into Marco’s original story—was lost early on, so “the Travels” have gone on an untraceable and interminable journey through “dozens of translations of translations, none of which are necessarily accurate” (‘The Travels of Marco Polo: The True Story of a 14th-Century Bestseller’, Anna Bressanin, BBC, 09-Jan-2024, www.bbc.com). Of the 54 extant manuscripts (out of around 150 distinct copies in all languages), no two copies are entirely alike with “improvements” and edits made by each copyist and translator. We should also remember that Marco was in prison, relying on his memory to recount a multitude of events and experiences, some of which stretched back over 20 years, hardly surprising then if readers have to contend with the recollections of a not entirely reliable narrator (‘Marco Polo’s book on China omits tea, chopsticks, bound feet’, Peter Neville-Hadley, South China Morning Post, 04-Oct-2020, www.amp.scmp.com).

The Marco Polo saga has spawned a long history of film and television versions with romantic adventure taking precedence over story accuracy

Heavily redacted archives: The issue of Polo’s claim to have been an official in Kublai Khan’s service—and in particular governor of Yangzhou—was seized on by Dr Wood who pointed out that Marco’s name does not appear in any historical official Chinese archives. Rather than being necessarily proof of Marco fabricating a presence in China as Wood assumes, other factors may explain the discrepancy…no other Italian merchants known to have visited medieval China are mentioned in any Chinese sources, even the Papal envoy to the Great Khan’s court, Giovanni de Marignolli, doesn’t rate a mention (‘Marco Polo was not a swindler. He really did go to China’, Science News, 16-Apr-2012, www.sciencedaily.com). Another factor germane to this is the fact that the Ming (Han) Dynasty that succeeded the Mongol-dominated Yuan Dynasty initiated the practice of erasing the records of earlier non-Han officials (Morgan).

(source: LibriVox)

One particularly vocal critic of Did Marco Polo Go To China?, Sinologist Hans Ulrich Vogel from the University of Tübingen, produced a research paper demonstrating that Marco’s descriptions of currency, salt production and revenues from the salt monopoly in China were of a standard of accuracy and uniqueness of detail5⃞, that produces a very high level of proof that Polo had to have been in China, close to the wheels of power, to be privy to such comprehensive knowledge (www.sciencedaily.com).

Chinese salt production (source: Wellcome Images)

The “logical fallacy of weak induction”: Frances Wood’s iconoclastic book was certainly an attention-grabber, both for medieval scholars and Sinologists and for the general public, causing a furore upon its publication in 1995 and spawning several TV documentaries. China and the world of the Great Khan is a central tenet of the Marco Polo story, making it unthinkable to most scholars, almost a sacrilege, to suggest that the legendary Venetian traveller never set foot in the Middle Kingdom! The weight of the counter-argument unleashed against Wood’s thesis throws a spotlight on the hazards of trying to “treat the absence of evidence as evidence itself”, as Steven Lewis summarises the fallacious nature of the argument from silence (‘The Argument from Silence”, Steven Lewis, SES, www.ses.edu).

(image: silk–road.com)

Frances Wood, Did Marco Polo go to China? (1995, Secker & Warburg, London)

1⃞ Wimsatt and Beardsley’s 1946 ‘Intentional Fallacy’ essay to some extent has its antecedents in the earlier debate between CS Lewis and EMW Tillyard, published as The Personal Heresy: A Controversy (1939), in which Lewis argued that an author’s own personality and biography has negligible to zero impact on the literary text, while Tillyard enunciated the contrary position: that an author’s own imagination and story can have an indelible influence on a work of literature

 2⃞   and there had been doubters even in Marco’s time and later about some of his more wilder and fantastic claims, earning him the epithet Il Milione or “the Millions”) (aka “Marchus Paulo Millioni”). Wood’s particular slant on Polo’s book follows the lead of earlier German Mongolists

3⃞ who had claimed to have been an emissary in the emperor’s service

4⃞ Wood herself concedes that Rustichello may have edited out references to tea on the grounds of it being “of no interest to the general public”

5⃞ and corroborated by Chinese documents

“U” and “V” Words from Left Field II: Redux. A Supplement to the Logolept’s Diet

Ancient history, Archaeology, Creative Writing, Memorabilia, Regional History, Sport

<: word meaning root formation:>

Ucalegon: neighbour whose house is on fire or has burned down [from Gk. Oukalégōn – one of the Elders of whose house was set on fire by the Achaeans during the sack of Troy, a character in the Iliad (3.148)]

Ucalegon

Ultracrepidarian: going too far; overstepping the mark; presumptious; intruding in someone else’s beeswax [from L. ultra- (“beyond”) +‎ crepidarian (“things concerning shoemaking”); attributed to the 18th–19th cent English essayist and writer William Hazlitt]

Ululate: to howl like a wolf [from L. ululāre (“to howl or bay”)]

Ululate (source: the Conversation)

Umbersorrow:  fit, robust, sturdy, resisting disease or the effects of severe weather; rugged, uncultivated, surly disposition [from Scot. Eng. origin obscure]

Umbriferous: shady; making shade [from L. umbrifer, from umbra (“a shade”) + ferre (“to bear”)]

Undinism: the association of water with erotic thoughts; sexual arousal from urination [from Ger. undine from L. unda (“wave”)+‎ -ism]

Unidextral: capable of using one hand only [L. uni (“one only”) + –dexter (“right hand”)] ✋

Upaithric: (Arch.) (a building or structure) without a roof [Gk. Origin obscure] (Synonym: Hypethral)

Upaithric

Urorilocal: (refer to Uxorious in the Logolept’s Diet 1.0) living with one’s wife’s family  [borrowed from L. uxōrius (“of or pertaining to a wife”), from uxor (“wife”) + -local(?)]

<: word meaning root formation:>

Valetudinarian: an invalid, esp one with a tendency towards hypochondria; a person who is unduly anxious about their health [from L. valēre, (“to have strength” or “to be well”) + -arian]

Vapulatory: relating to flogging or beating [from L. vāpulō (“cry”; “wail”)]

Venery: sexual indulgence (from L. vener-, venus– (“sexual desire, sexual intercourse”) + -ery]

Verecund: modest; shy; bashful [from L. verēcundus (“shy, modest”)]

Verkramp: someone narrow-minded or extremely conservative in their views [Afrik. “cramped”]

Vetust: venerable from antiquity [from L. vetustus (“old, ancient”)]

Viduity: widowhood [from MidEng. (Scots) viduite, from L.  vidua (“widow”) + ity]

Viviseplture: the practice of burying someone alive [from Lvivus (“alive”) + sepulture (from L. sepultura (“bury”)]

Viviseplture

Voteen: a zealously pious person [from Gael. Irish. corruption of devotee + -een]

Vulpinate: to wilily cheat or deceive someone [from L. vulpes (“fox” )]

Vulpinate (source: Wild Earth Guardians)

The ‘Fascism Minimum’ Hypothesis and the Case of Thai Politics in the Second World War Years

Comparative politics, Inter-ethnic relations, International Relations, Politics, Regional History

Authoritarian regimes modelled on Italian Fascism and German Nazism in the interwar period were conspicuous in Europe, but by no means confined to that continent. Asia had its share of emerging political movements and regimes that were attracted to the clarion call of Euro-fascism and the German Nazi phenomena in particular. The nationalist Kuomintang in China had its New Life Movement and the Blue Shirt Society. There was the militaristic, ultranationalist Shōwa Statism associated with the Empire of Japan. In Syria the Syrian Social Nationalist Party, formed with the aim of restoring Syrian independence from its colonial master France, borrowed its ideas and symbols from Nazi ideology.

Another Asian country in the 1930s that was inspired by the Euro-fascist movement to venture down the right-wing authoritarian path was Thailand. Army officer Plaek Phibunsongkhram, better known as Phibun (or alternately transliterated, Pibul), rode to power on the back of his domination of the military faction of the People’s Party (Khana Ratsadon), becoming prime minister of Siam in 1938. Phibun, one of the most controversial figures in Thailand’s turbulent, coup-prone political history, consolidated his power by establishing a de facto dictatorship during the Second World War. Whether Phibun or his regime was fascist has been a topic of debate by scholars. But before we look at whether the fascist tag sticks to the Thai kingdom in the period of the Phibun ascendancy (1938–1944), we need to hit on a working definition as to what is meant when we refer to a political organisation or movement as “fascist”.

Thailand, WWII

This is far from a straightforward task given the complexity of the concept of fascism, one not helped by the fact that “fascist” is a catch-all word in everyday speech for spontaneously describing in a pejorative fashion any individual or organisation which vexes us even for a fleeting moment. The term is so loaded and problematic that a universally acceptable definition remains elusive…as historian and political theorist Roger Griffin notes, “with the possible exception of ‘ideology’, there can be no term in the human sciences which has generated more conflicting theories about its basic definition than ‘fascism’” [Roger Griffin, ‘Staging the Nation’s Rebirth. The Politics and Aesthetics of Performance in the Context of Fascist Studies’, Library of Social Sciences, (1996), www.libraryofsocialsciences.com]. A broad and simple answer might be that fascism is a totalitarian entity – defining “totalitarianism” as an extreme form of authoritarian rule where the state has complete control over its citizens, using coercion to suppress individual freedoms𝟙. The problem with “totalitarianism” is that it can be applied equally to either extremity of the political spectrum – the far right, fascist regimes like the Nazis and the Italian Fascists, and to systems on the far left, ie, to the Marxist communist regimes of the Soviet Union and Red China, and to contemporary North Korea under the Kim dynasty.

The Third Reich propagandising a supposed führer and Nazi connexion to a heroic Teutonic medieval imperial past

Reductionist heuristics: A short search through the pages of Google will quickly confirm the nigh-on impossible challenge of pinning down a broad consensus as to an acceptable definition of this hyper-complex term. So perhaps enumerating the essential elements or characteristics that constitute fascism might prove a more fruitful exercise? I am somewhat taken by Griffin’s approach to the definition conundrum, seeking to identify “what all permutations of fascism have in common – what he terms the “fascist minimum”, reducing the slippery concept to its bare essentials. Griffin actually condenses his take on “fascism” to a single basic sentence, viz. “a genus of political ideology whose mythical core in its various permutations is a palingenetic form of populist ultra-nationalism” (‘Staging the Nation’s Rebirth’). This brief statement requires some fleshing out. Griffin identifies three elements that are central to the ideology of fascism: the first is the idea of palingenesis (national revival) which all genuine fascist movements carry in their baggage. This entails the perpetuation of a utopian urban myth which exalts “the regenerative national community which is destined to rise up from the ashes of a decadent society”𝟚. Through emphasising the societal decadence of the status quo (the second idea), the fascist can isolate and vilify the supposed enemies of society (eg, Jews, communists, Gypsies). The evoking of this palingenetic myth allowed fascist movements to attract large masses of voters who have lost faith in traditional parties and religion with their glittering promises. The third element, populist ultra-nationalism, “arises from seeing modern nation-states as living organisms which are directly akin to physical people because they can decay, grow, and die, and additionally, they can experience rebirth” [‘Ultranationalism’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. This palingenetic– ultranationalism fusion is what distinguishes Griffin’s “true fascism” from para-fascism and other authoritarian, nationalist ideologies [Roger Griffin, The Nature of Fascism (1991)].

A fascist or para-fascist checklist?: There are other characteristics evident in the praxis of fascist organisations and movements, including an opposition to or emasculation of parliamentary democracy; the leader’s cult of personality𝟛; (a revolutionary movement with a) belief in a natural hierarchical social order; an inordinately dominant or influential role played by the military in the state’s governance and in society as a whole; victimhood, suppression of targeted minorities in society (be it ethnic or religious); anti-communism; the all-powerful, all-seeing party as the vanguard of the fascist movement; a “cult of action for action’s sake” (Umberto Eco)…the square peg here is that these characteristics are not the exclusive domain of fascism or fascist politics as they feature in far-right authoritarian rulerships and sometimes in communist ones as well𝟜.

✑ ✑

Pridi (left) and Phibun (source: warfarehistorynetwork.com)

If we turn now to look at Thailand at the end of the 1930s we see that Phibun consolidated his position as prime minister before embarking on the road to dictatorship. Moving quickly to neutralise political opponents, he had his chief army rival Phraya Song’s supporters eliminated and Phraya himself exiled, while curtailing the already restricted royal power. Parliament was reduced to a rubber stamp chamber, press censorship was rigorously imposed. With other parties outlawed, the principal opposition Phibun faced came from within his ruling People’s Party in the form of Pridi Phanomyong (Banomyong) who headed up the civilian faction of the party. Phibun expressed admiration for the major right-extremist powers, Nazi German, Fascist Italy and the Empire of Japan. Militarisation of Thai society was a major focus for Phibun, borrowing extensively from the fascist template he copied the Nazi Jugend (Hitler Youth) with his Thai youth organisations, Yuwachon for boys and Yuwanari for girls. Phibun also relied on propagandist techniques through his right-hand man Wichit Wathakan who acted as party ideologue and propagandist to the extent that he was known in some circles as the “Pocket Goebbels” [REYNOLDS, E. B. (2004). PHIBUN SONGKHRAM AND THAI NATIONALISM IN THE FASCIST ERA. European Journal of East Asian Studies3(1), 99–134. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23615170].

Phibunsongkhram: Phibun’s eponymous province

Phibun in power projected the image of a “charismatic national savour”, presenting himself as the Thai people’s one great hope to lift the country out of the straitjacket of its weak and subordinate global position and achieve modernisation and a strong national position. And he built a form of personality cult for himself…pictures of himself were ubiquitous; awarding himself a raft of high offices and titles (including field marshal of the army). Another manifestation of this was how the Thai people celebrated Phibun’s birthday as the nation’s phunam (leader), venerated his auspicious birth-colour (green) and his birth sign, etc (Reynolds). Phibun even named a province after himself, comprising Cambodian territory wrestled from the French.

Prime Minister Phibun in 1948 (photo: Jack Birns/Life Photo Collection)

”Thaification”, Phibun’s territorial expansion ambitions: Was Griffin’s core “palingenetic myth” an element of Phibun’s political ideology for Thailand? Phibun and those other Thais who espoused nationalist sentiments subscribed to a genuine belief in Thai exceptionalism which derived from the pride of Siam having been the only state in Southeast Asia to have retained its independence in the wave of European colonisation of the region, an exceptionalism which Thais presented as a heroic tale in promoting nationalism. The Thai situation seems however to lack a homegrown urban myth in which the phoenix of national revival arises out of a state of decadence, instead the prevailing ideology had an irredentist component which has been called Pan-Thaiism. [‘Thaification: from ethnicity to nationality”, Marcus Tao Mox Lim, Identity Hunters, 05-Dec-2020, www.identityhunters.org].

Name changing ceremony Bangkok, 1939: Affixing of the royal seal by the crown prince (source: Life)

Ditching “Siam” for “Thailand”: Phibun pursued an expansionist foreign policy by which he hoped to reunite ethnically-related peoples under a “greater Thai race-based nation” (Tao Mox Lim). The name change from Siam to Thailand in 1939 had a dual function for Phibun – an intent to modernise the country and the creation of a new national identity𝟝. The name “Thailand” (Prathet Thai) symbolised a departure from the multi-ethnic identity of Siam, a device to assimilate other ethnic minorities (including the Chinese, a very significant minority in Siam𝟞) into a new construct, a national (homogenised) Thai identity – what Tao Mox Lim calls a “reimagining of a ‘Thai race’”. This was all a precondition to Phibun’s irredentist aspirations, allowing him to stake a claim on lost territories, mainly in French Indochina (Reynolds).  

Under Phibun’s heavy authoritarian hand democratic rights and freedoms were restricted and the populace subjected to a series of cultural mandates dictating the modes of dress and behaviour to be adopted. The earlier pluralism of Thai society was squashed but the degree of coercive control over aspects of citizens’ lives never got close to the Orwellian “big brother” levels in totalitarian regimes in Nazi Germany and in some Cold War Eastern Block countries. Phibun did not secure a totalitarian hold over the Thai population during his six-year long regime𝟟 and Thailand didn’t experience the ideological journey of national destruction/rebirth process as prescribed by Griffin.

Thailand, the most coup-prone sovereign state in the world (photo: Agence France-Press via Getty Images)

The unravelling of a SE Asian dictator: As autocratic as Phibun was in running the country, the elephant in the room was his wartime relationship with Japan. Having steered Thailand to a neutral stance in the world war, he switched positions, committing to an alliance with the Japanese under the Greater East Asian Co-prosperity Sphere in the hope of realising his long-held goal of Thai territorial expansion. Unfortunately, the alliance proved to be very unequal and heavily in Japan’s favour. The Japanese with its occupying forces in Thailand wouldn’t allow the Thai army to participate in its invasion of Burma and the Thais were forced to hand back the limited territorial concessions it received from France at the war’s end. By 1944 Phibun—with Japan’s military fortunes on the slide and seen as its increasingly unpopular collaborator—was forced out of the prime ministership in which some describe as a parliamentary coup masterminded by his rival Pridi [‘The Fall of the Phibun Government, 1944’, Benjamin A. Batson, www.thesiamsociety.org].

𝟙 as Mussolini summed up the function of totalitario…”all within the state, none outside the state, none against the state“

𝟚 having sold the masses on the notion of the regenerative national community utopia, the masses convinced of its efficacy must (unquestioningly) follow its creator, the (fascist) leader, sowing the seeds for the leadership cult to develop

𝟛 ample examples exist of leaders who were not fascists who cultivated a personality cult, eg, authoritarian populist Juan Peron and communist supremo Stalin

𝟜 it’s quite plausible for authoritarian regimes to practice even extreme fascist tactics, but this of itself doesn’t necessarily make the political system a fascist one

𝟝 the word “Thai” means “free” in the Tai tongue (thus “land of the free”) which resonates with the idea of the country never having been colonised

𝟞 Phibun’s imposition of the Central Thai language on all citizens promoted Thai ethnocentricity after 1939, which together with the introduction of harsh laws had the outcome of lessening the inordinate economic impact of the Chinese community (Reynolds)

𝟟 Phibun in his second stint as PM (1948–57) was preoccupied with “trying to reinvent himself as a democrat” (Reynolds) and surviving several coup attempts before his ultimate removal and exile to Japan

Bharat, Türkiye, etc. What’s in a Name?: The Politics of Country Rebranding

Comparative politics, Inter-ethnic relations, International Relations, Literary & Linguistics, National politics, Politics, Regional politics, Society & Culture

In international news of late there’s been speculation by some pundits that the Republic of India might be planning to drop the name “India”—the name the world identifies the South Asian mega-state by—as the official title of the country. The conjecture stems from an apparent signal given by Modi’s government in issuing invitations in the name of the “President of Bharat” to attendees of the September 2023 G-20 summit held in New Delhi.

Why Bharat? Well, Bharat is already the other official name of India, enshrined in the nation’s constitution, with a backstory stretching far back into the Sub-continent’s pre-colonial history. The word comes from ancient Sanskrit—Bhārata (“to bear or to carry”), a shortened form of Bhāratavarsa (first used in the 1st century AD)—as does the name Hindustān, also in currency among Hindi-speaking Indians as another name to describe the country as a whole. Some Hindu nationalists have advocated for the creation of Akhand Bharat (“Greater India”) which would unite India with all of its contiguous neighbours in a South Asian super-state.

Origin of “India”: It derives from the Sanskrit word Sindhu, a name for the Indus River and the lower Indus basin. Etymology: Ancient Greek Indikē, Latin Indía. The name “Hindu”, the predominant Indian religion and dharma, also relates to the Sub-continent’s paramount river, being an Old Persian adaption of “Sindhu”.

Modi of Bharat (photo: Ludovic Marin/AFP/Getty Images)

Modi’s nomenclature move has received endorsement by government officials and followers (no surprise!) who contend that the name “India” as a nation title is “tainted” with its past connotations of colonialism and slavery, echoing the sentiment that “British colonial rulers had coined the name India to overshadow Bharat and forge a British legacy” [‘India’s government has used another name on the world stage. What does ’Bharat’ mean?’ SBS News, 06-Sep-2023, www.sbs.com.au].

If Bharat has already been an official name for India since 1949, why has the Indian government decided to publicise it just now? One answer comes from the political opponents of the BJP who allege that the notion is a diversional tactic by Modi’s party to try to upstage the recent formation of the opposition’s “INDIA” alliance to contest upcoming elections (Rahul Gandhi, Congress Party). This move follows a BJP pattern in power of erasing Indian place names which reflect India’s Mughal (Muslim) and (British) colonial past. Critics accuse the government of “pursuing a nationalist agenda aimed at forming an ethnic Hindu state out of a constitutionally secular India” [‘India’s Modi gov’t replaces country’s name with Bharat in G20 dinner invite’, Aljazeera, 05-Sep-2023, www.aljazeera.com]

source: moroccoworldnewsnews.com

Disassociating with the bird: In 2022 the Republic of Turkey notified the international community that it repudiates the name “Turkey” as a descriptor for it, instead the country should be be referred to officially by all as Türkiye (pronounced “Tur-kee-yay”), the communique stated. The government foreign minister said the use of Türkiye would increase “the country’s brand value”, but reputedly, a reason for the name switch is the president, Recep Erdoğan’s dislike of the association of his country with the Meleagris, a large gallinaceous bird (and by extension with the whole American Thanksgiving thing)…compounding that aversion to the name, is “turkey’s” colloquial meanings, (a person who is) inept or stupid; a movie or play which is a dud.

Another motive of Erdoğan’s could be in play – a political one. The move fits in neatly with his wish to be “rid of a westernised, anglicised name that jarred with his neo-Islamist, nationalist-populist brand” [‘The Observer view on Turkey’s name change’, The Guardian, 05-Jun-2022, www.imp.theguardian.com]. Critics of the Erdoğan regime take an even more scathing view, that “the rebrand is another populist device that Erdoğan is exploiting to divert attention away from the country’s persisting economic woes and to galvanise nationalist voters ahead of (upcoming) crucial elections” ‘ Turkey is now Türkiye: What other countries have changed their name?’, Euronews 28-Jun-2022, wwweuronews.com].

Switching synonyms: While India and Turkey are topical examples of the inclination for nomenclature rebranding, the 20th century is dotted with instances of other such name changes. In 1989 the authoritarian military government in Burma—a country named after the Burmans, the dominant ethnic group—caught the world by surprise by suddenly changing the country’s name to “Myanmar”. The regime explained the switch as jettisoning a name inherited from its colonial past and choosing a new name that would foster ethnic unity by recognising it was a multi-ethnic state. In reality it was “linguistic sleight-of-hand” as in the Burmese language “Myanmar” is merely a more formal version of “Burma”. The Burmese regime, viewed as an international pariah after years of violent repression against its citizens was seeking to rebuild its PR standing, so you only needed to be slightly cynical to see the thinking behind such a cosmetic name change ploy [‘Myanmar, Burma and why the different names matter’, Kim Tong-Hyung & Hyung-Jin Kim, PBS News, 03-Feb-2021, www.pbs.org].

Myanmar, the military’s choice (photo: JPaing/The Irrawaddy)

Czechs of Czechia: The Czech Republic (Česká republika) came into existence in 1993 when Czechoslovakia ceased to be a single political entity (splitting amicably into two countries, the Czech Republic and Slovakia). In 2016 a further name change, or more correctly, name addition, happened, the Czech government introduced a short-form title, “Czechia”, for communication in English, while retaining Česká republika as its full name. Though less controversial than other instances, the term “Czechia” was criticised by some Czechs for being confusingly too close in sound to the name of the internal Russian republic, Chechnya. This was the very reason the Kingdom of Swaziland, a landlocked southern African country, swapped names in 2018, becoming (the Kingdom of) Eswatini. The change occurred by royal fiat…with the stated reason that when Swazi tourists were overseas locals would mistakenly think they were from Switzerland.

”Resplendent” name change: The small island nation of Ceylon left the British Commonwealth and became a republic in 1972…at the same time the government affected a name change to “Sri Lanka“, which combines the honorific Sri meaning “resplendent” and the island’s original name Lanka which simply means “island”. The name “Ceylon”, based on an earlier Portuguese name, had been adopted by the British rulers after they had colonised the island in stages between 1796 and 1817 [‘Sri Lanka erases colonial name, Ceylon’, Charles Haviland, BBC News, 01-Jan-2011, www.bbc.com]. Prior to becoming a British colony the island comprised two entities, a Dutch Ceylan part and the native Sinhalese Kandyan Kingdom.

Regime change ➔ name change: In the case of the small Southeast Asian state of Cambodia the changing of the country’s name, throughout the 1970s and ‘80s, became something of a merry-go-round. In succession it went from (the Kingdom of) Cambodia to the Khmer Republic to Democratic Kampuchea to (the People’s Republic of) Kampuchea to (the State of) Cambodia back to (the Kingdom of) Cambodia, reflecting the state-level instability of ongoing regime changeᑢ.

Cambodia/Kampuchea

Ping-pong nomenclature in Bangkok: Prior to 1939 Thailand was known by the name “Siam”, deriving from a Sanskrit word, syam. In 1939 Prime Minster Phibun changed the kingdom’s name from Prathet Siam to Prathet Thai or Mu’ang Thai (English: “Land of the Thais”). At the end of WWII Phibun having backed the losing Japanese side fell from favour and the succeeding Thai regime changed the name back to Siam to distinguish itself from the previous regime associated with the fascist Japanese invaders. In 1948 however Phibun returned to power and reinstated the name Thailand, which the country has retained to the present [‘Thai or Siam?’ P Juntanamalaga, (1988), Names: A Journal of Onomastics, www.ans-names.pitt.edu].

Siam/Thailand

Footnote: Endonyms and exonyms When Turkish president Ergodan objected to the continued use of the name “Turkey” by outsiders to describe his country, he was in fact rejecting the convention of exonyms (or if you like, xenonyms) – the non-native name by which others refer to your country (cf. endonyms, the native name by which you refer to your own country)…for instance, what an English-speaker calls “China” (an exonym), a Chinese-language speaker would call Zhōngguó or Chung-kuó (an endonym). Imagine how unwieldy and confusing it would get if every country insisted on universal usage of their particular linguistic exonym?

Article 1 of the Constitution, “India, that is Bharat, shall be a Union of States”

not really a name change as the nation officially has been called Türkiye (Türkiye Cumhuriyeti) since 1923

Cambodia” is the exonym, cf. the endonym of “Khmer”

also called an autonym

meaning “Central Demesne” or “Middle Kingdom” or “Central Nation”