Hebrew
- Words and Their History
1. Introduction
The Vocabulary of a language is a faithful reflection of the people who
speak it. Living conditions, past and present, geographical environment
, employment and pursuits, relations with neighbors, culture and
civilization, ideas and history are all mirrored in the words of a
language.
Hebrew words have undergone three kinds of transformation:
· words which remained in Hebrew;
· words which passed from foreign languages into Hebrew; and,
· words which passed from Hebrew into foreign languages.
And there are at least two different forms of change in each of the last
two categories:
· changes in the form of the word itself; and,
· changes in the meaning of the word, when the host language translated
the Hebrew word by a word of its own, by adding to it the Hebrew
meaning, a process known in English as “loan-translation” and in French
as “calque.”
2. Hebrew Words which have Passed into Other Languages
Let us begin with Hebrew words which have passed from Hebrew to other
Languages. Already in biblical times certain Hebrew words (more
precisely Canaanite) passed into Greek; two examples are kharutz
(“gold”) khrusos in Greek, still used today in English in the name of
the flower chrysanthemum, and eravon (“pledge”) which entered Greek as
arrabon and thence the Latin arrabo.
Particularly interesting are certain loan-translations still in normal,
current use to this day. In Akkadian the word qaqqadu – “head” also has
the meaning “capital”; consequently the Hebrew rosh has the same
connotation, and similarly its cognate in Aramaic and other languages.
Through the Phoenician influence we find the word kephalaion with both
meanings in Greek, from which in turn is derived by the same process the
Latin caput. The chain continues into Old High German with Houbetgelt
(“head-money”). The Latin word itself passed into other European
languages and the term “capital” is a derivation. In its career this
loan-translation entered Arabic, changing its form to ras-el-mal
(“capital”) and thence back into medieval Hebrew as rosh-mamon
(“capital”).
Another instructive example is the use made in Christian times of words
derived from the Hebrew אב (av – “father”). In Mishanic Hebrew we find
the Aramaic אבא (abba), the earliest written form of which appears in
the New Testament in Mark 14:36. The word followed hard in the wake of
the spread of Christianity throughout Europe. In mediaeval Latin it took
the form of abbas, a name for a monk, whence abbatia, a monastery, still
retained in French abbaye. Furthermore, by the addition of a Greco-Roman
suffix a feminine form was created, abbatissa. In English one finds
abbot (and abbess), in German Abt the head of a monastery, in French
abbé a priest. Likewise we have in German Äbtissin head of a nunnery by
adding in, a German feminine suffix.
3. Foreign Words which have Passed into Hebrew
3.1 Foreign Words Borrowed in Antiquity – prior to 600 CE
There are also genuine Aramaic words which have passed into Hebrew,
sometimes in several forms. The Hebrew makhatz (“crush”) is found in the
Bible (Judges 5:26), while its ancient Aramaic form is מחק (makhak). In
a subsequent period, the same Aramaic root was taken over again into
Hebrew in a later form מחא (macho – “to clap hands”), and finally
re-entered Mishnaic Hebrew, changing both form and meaning as מחה (machot
– “to protest,” actually by clapping the hand). Thus one finds in
Israeli Hebrew[5] a single Semitic root in four variations ….
A further interesting example of Aramaic influence on Hebrew, from
another aspect, is the word לאתר (le’altar – “immediately”) fromעל אתר
(`al ‘atar – “on the spot”). There are several Aramaic terms in which
the consonantal `ayin has weakened into an aleph, and the aleph was
likely to disappear altogether. Thus על אתר (`al ‘atar”) becomes אלתר
(‘altar) and, with the addition of ל (le) the preposition (as in לבד
levad – “alone” from the root בדד badad), becomes לאלתר (le‘altar),
whence the Israeli Hebrew verb אלתר (‘alter – “to improvise”).
Aramaic was important in another respect: it served as a medium for the
introduction into Hebrew of words from Akkadian, the language of the
Babylonians and Assyrians, though it is true that many Akkadian terms
found their way into Hebrew in a period preceding the influences of
Aramaic. Akkadian bequeathed not only words of its own, such as מחיר (mekhir
– “price) but also words of Sumerian origin (the Sumerians were a
non-Semitic (speaking) people living in what is today southern Iraq,
before the coming of the Akkadians). The most obvious of these is היכל (heikhal
– “palace” or “temple”), which is e-gal (“a large house”) in Sumerian.
From the same language comes מלח (malakh – “sailor”), though it may have
entered Hebrew via Aramaic.
In Mishnaic Hebrew, too we find words borrowed from the Akkadian. Khazan
appears in the Tel-el-Amarna letters written in the fourteenth century
BCE by the kings of Syrian and Canaan to Pharaoh, in Akkadian, in the
form of khazannu, meaning “mayor.” The source of the word is obscure (it
may be derived from the root חזה (khazoh – “to see”). In the Aramaic of
the Talmud it means “watchman” (of a city), whilst in Mishnaic Hebrew it
signifies “beadle” (of a synagogue), and also “teacher”. Today, amongst
Ashkenazi Jews, the khazan is a cantor; amongst the Sephardim he is a
sort of rabbi.
Persian rule in Eretz Israel (from the sixth to the fourth century BCE)
led to the introduction of Iranian words into Biblical and Rabbinic[6]
Hebrew, and Persian rule in Babylonia (until it conquest by the Arabs in
the seventh century CE) brought them into the Aramaic of the Babylonian
Talmud, from which they entered Israeli Hebrew. Among the most striking
are: ורד (vered – “rose,” actually the same word etymologically!) The
name of the island, Rhodes, comes from the same root; the most ancient
form is Vrodos, “island of roses”; פרדס (pardess) is also from Persia,
and since this is the term, also taken over by the Greek, by which the
Septuagint[7] translates gan eden (“the Garden of Eden”), it has passed
into various European languages as ”paradise” in English, “Paradies” in
German and so on. The word kegon (“for example”) is based on the Persian
gon (“color”).
Hellenistic culture which inundated Western Asia as a result of the
conquests of Alexander the Great left its mark on Hebrew in the large
number of Greek borrowings. Sometimes these words assume different forms
in Palestinian Mishnaic Hebrew and Aramaic on the one hand, and in
Babylonian Aramaic and Hebrew on the other. For example, the Greek limen
appears in the form of limen in Palestine, but with metathesis in the
form נמיל (namel) in Babylon, whence the present-day נמל (namel –
“port”). There are Greek words which have changed their form in Hebrew
because of copyists’ errors, such as ליסטיס (listes – “robber”) which
became listim – with the singular meaning but plural form. It has not
been found necessary to correct such mistakes, the like of which can be
found in all languages.
The number of Latin words in Mishnaic Hebrew is comparatively small, in
spite of the Roman conquest of Palestine (from the first century BCE
onwards). Examples are ligyon (“legion”) and לבלר (lavlar - “scribe”,
“clerk”), though we do not revert to a form closer to the Latin
libellarius, namely ליבלר (livlar), found in manuscripts of the Mishna,
preferring that which emerged in recent centuries in Europe in Mishnaic
reading traditions.
3.2 Foreign Words Borrowed in the Jewish Middle Ages –Seventh to
Eighteenth Centuries
In the Middle Ages the Jews played a major role in the syncretistic
Arabic culture of Spain. They translated many philosophical, medical and
general scientific works into Hebrew, and were compelled, accordingly,
to create a new style in the language, and, above all, a suitable
vocabulary[8]. Arabic terminology in these diverse fields, itself born
of contact with Greek science, had no equivalents, either in Biblical or
Mishnaic Hebrew. On rare occasions the Arabic word was taken over
unchanged, as for example אופק (ofek – “horizon”), מרכז (merkaz –
“center”) – whence the verb רכז (rakaz – “centralize”) was coined, aklim
(“climate”), which Arabic borrowed from the Greek, or הנדסה (handassa –
“geometry”) taken over by Arabic from Persian (and which, incidentally,
also passed from that language into the Babylonian Talmud). But for the
vast majority of technical terms use was made of loan-translations. For
instance, the word חרז (kharoz) which occurs in the Bible in the sense
of “to string pearls”; since there is an Arabic root which means the
same, but also has another meaning, namely “to rhyme,” the latter was
added to the Hebrew word. Similarly to the Biblical term matzpun(
“something hidden”) was ascribed the meaning “conscience[9]” by analogy
with Arabic, where this meaning is also attached to a root signifying
“to hide.” Sometimes a Hebrew root cognate with an Arabic word has been
given its meaning in the latter language, as happened with geshem
(“rain”), which in Arabic connotes “body,” thence the Hebrew גשׁמי (gashmi
– “material” as opposed to rukhani – “spiritual”). Another example of
such a process is כמות (kamut – “quantity”).
3.3 Foreign Words Borrowed in the Modern period – Late Eighteenth,
Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries
A characteristic attendant upon the revival of Hebrew at the end of the
eighteenth century was an influx of European words which has continued
up to the present day. Here the process has two aspects: the
introduction of words of an international character, and the use of
loan-translations. Already at the beginning of the period we find the
word לבד (levad – “alone”) used with the meaning of “but”; comparison
with contemporary German solves the problem: at that time “allein” meant
both “but” and “alone.” The German “Mittelschule” – “high school” was
first translated literally bet sefer benayim and today bet sefer tikhon.
The German “Kindergarten” is in Modern Hebrew gan-yeladim (“children’s
garden”). And what Hebrew speaker would conceive that aviron
(“airplane”), formed from the word אויר (avir – “air”), itself a Greek
borrowing found in the Mishna, is an attempt to imitate French avion?
Such coinages, i.e., the use of Hebrew words phonetically resembling the
foreign words whose meanings they were to take over, were common in the
nineteenth century when revivers of the language did not yet dare to
create genuinely new terms. Instead of “telegraph” they said dilug-rav
(“a large leap”); instead of “cannon” they said keneh-on
(“power-barrel”), while “cholera” was rendered kholi-ra (“a bad
sickness”). Of the neologisms of this character the only one which still
maintains some kind of existence is pratei-kol – “protocol” which
literally means “details of everything,” though generally the new term
zikhron-devarim is used for “minutes” (of a meeting). This method is no
longer used, though occasionally it reappears as in kef (“cape” e.g.
Cape of Good hope); actually the Hebrew word means “rock”, whereas
“cape” is related to the Latin “caput” meaning “head.”
In Israel, with the revival of spoken Hebrew, Arabic words once again
began to pass into the language. Rishmi (“official”), whose root has the
meaning of “record, write down,” has assumed the meaning of its Arabic
cognate. On the other hand nadir (“rare”) has been transferred from
Arabic without having any parallel form in Hebrew. Sometimes such Arabic
words are themselves borrowings; e.g., bul (“stamp”) and garbaim
(“stockings”), both of Persian origin. Each of these nouns have formed
the basis for a new Hebrew verb.
But while these Arabic words – and there are scores of others in this
category – took the main road into Hebrew, through the agency of its
revivers as a spoken vernacular in Israel, others came in other ways –
with Arabic speaking Jews, or during the War of Independence. Keif
(“fun,” “a good time”) seems to be an example of the first, findjan
(“cup”) of the second. In the days before the State this word, which in
Arabic means “coffee-pot,” apparently entered the language through
contacts between soldiers serving in the Palmach and Arabs. However,
some people insist that findjan, too belongs to the former category.
Incidentally, this word has a most interesting history. It derives from
the Greek pinax meaning “notebook” and also dish. It passed into
Mishnaic Hebrew in the form of pinkas (“notebook”) and into Aramaic as
pinkha (“plate”). Southern Iraq, where Aramaic was spoken, mostly under
Persian rule, for over a thousand years, from before the time of
Alexander the Great until after its conquest by the Arabs in the middle
of the seventh century CE. Not surprisingly, many Aramaic words were
absorbed by Persian. In modern Persia (Iran) an original k in certain
circumstances becomes g, hence the forms ping and also pingan. From
Persian it passed over, together with other words, into Arabic in which
there is no p but only f. in literary Arabic g became dj, and hence the
form findjan, which, by this circuitous route, came back to Israeli
Hebrew. The original Greek pinax, accordingly, has three offsprings in
Hebrew – pinkas, pinkha (which is rare), and findjan reflecting
vicissitudes in the Near East over the past two thousand years. We may
add that thanks to the Turks, who borrowed innumerable words from Arabic
before they embarked upon their campaigns of conquest into Europe, the
word is common in European, and especially Slavonic, languages. I knew
it as a child in Hungary, the country of my birth. I did not dream that
it existed in ancient Jewish literature, or that I should find it , in a
different guise, when I settled in Israel.
4. Words and the Reality of Life in Ancient Israel
4.1 Vocabulary Illustrating what was Important
In the same was as these loan-translations but to a much greater extent,
the native Hebrew vocabulary can throw light on the character, history
and living conditions of the Jewish people. Even without the Biblical
account of the wanderings of our forefathers in the wilderness we should
be able to assess the importance of the desert in our past history from
the number of words for it in Hebrew: midbar, eretz-tziya, kharerim and
so on. The many words for “cloud” – ‘anan, ‘av, ‘arafel etc., bear
eloquent witness to the anxiety with which our ancestors, tillers of the
soil, watched the skies, waiting for the bountiful rain. And, of course,
the ancient Judaean husbandman could specify the different kinds of rain
– geshem, matar, zarzif, yoreh, malkosh. We no longer know how to
distinguish between most of the Biblical words for “rain” and “cloud,”
or, to quote another example, between the different terms for “spring,”
‘ayin, ma’ayan, מוצא (motza), מקור (makor) and the like.
4.2 The Problem of Dialect in Understanding Biblical Words
Here an important point must be made. What we have here may not indicate
different types of sources of water, but corresponding terms in various
Hebrew dialects (and obviously the same possibility exists in regard to
other examples cited). In the period of the First Temple – that is down
to 586 BCE – we know of the existence of such local patois: the story in
the twelfth chapter of the book of Judges about “shibboleth” and
“sibboleth” reflects a difference in the vernacular spoken by the
Ephraimites from that of the other tribes. In excavations at Samaria
shards were found bearing the inscription yn [10] that is yayin, “wine.”
This form is not used in Hebrew, except as a construct, but in Canaanite
(Phoenician) it is also found in the absolute. Hence in Samaria and the
surrounding district (perhaps throughout the Kingdom of Israel but not
in that of Judah), the pronunciation of words of this class (yayin, בית-
bayit, and זית- zayit) was the same as in neighboring Phoenicia, perhaps
something like yen, bet, zet.
Similarly it is at least worth considering , for example, whether the
word מוצא(motza), in the sense of “spring,” might not have been
restricted to the dialect of the Jerusalem district. Examine the
concordance[11] and you will see that the word ‘ayin occurs in place
names in the whole of Israel, north, south-east and west, whereas
מוצא(motza), in the sense of “spring” occurs only in the vicinity of
Jerusalem. It could, of course, be argued that this is purely
fortuitous, but surprisingly the verse describing how Hezekiah brought
the waters of Gihon into the city (II Chronicles 32:30) also uses the
word motza. It recurs in the famous Siloam inscription, found a hundred
years ago, which records the same event. These three references jointly
support the hypothesis that use of the word motza, in the sense of
spring, was restricted mainly to Jerusalem and its environs (and may
have included Jericho, vide II Kings 2:21).
Or take the words har and giv’a. Ostensibly they mean “mountain” and
“hill” respectively, and this is how they are translated in the
Septuagint, and in the Aramaic and Syriac versions. Nevertheless, there
is no certainty that these were their main meanings, and, in fact in the
Bible we find the word giv’a in such expressions as high giv’a (I Kings
14:23), lofty giv’a (Ezekiel 6:13). The impression is that there might
have been little difference between har and giv’a. They may have been
synonyms, used in different dialects.
This assumption is corroborated when we examine the distribution of
these words in place names in Israel[12]. Har is common throughout the
country, both east and west of the Jordan. But giv’a and gev’a, with one
exception, are found only in Western Israel. The most northerly location
is near the valley of Jezreel. In Galilee there is not a single
place-name including the word giv’a. Generally speaking, it is found in
the vicinity of Jerusalem. At any rate the question is worthy of further
study.
4.3 Native Vocabulary Reflecting the Life of Israelite Farmers and Loan
Words that of Traders
The areas covered in the discussion so far – words for clouds, rain,
topographical features – reflect the fact that our forbearers were
principally husbandmen. Further evidence is furnished by the
comparatively large number of words for “ditch,” “cistern,” “well” and
the like, where again we are at a loss to establish the exact meaning of
each. How harsh existence was for the Judaean peasant is indicated by
the multitude of words for thorns and thistles: kotz, dardar, kharulim,
barkanim – thee are more than twenty in all! How native agriculture was,
is proved by the complete absence of foreign loan words in this field.
In the vocabulary of commerce, by contrast, we find that in both
Biblical and Mishanic Hebrew most of the words are of alien provenance.
The mekhir (“price”) that you pay is Akkadian as is the shetar (“bill”)
that you must sign. Pinkas (“ledger”) is Greek, khenvani (“shopkeeper”)
is Aramaic and tagar (“merchant”) is Akkadian. It is no coincidence that
in the Bible a merchant is called a “Canaanite” (Proverbs 31:24), but in
German a “Jude.”
4.4 Vocabulary Relating to Ethics and Law
It may be dangerous to make deductions from silence. Anti-Semites once
maintained that Jews were devoid of “conscience” because the modern
Hebrew word used in this sense, namely the term matzpun means something
else in the Bible. Matzpun meaning “conscience” only entered the
language in the Middle Ages. To which the reply was made that Jews
apparently were equally lacking in spleen because the Hebrew word tekhol
does not appear in the Bible either!
In the same way as agricultural terms in Hebrew are thoroughly native in
origin, so are all those relating to ethics and institutionalized
Judaism: tzedaka (“righteousness”), mishpat (“justice”), khesed
(“charity”), rakhamim (“mercy”) and so on. The people of Israel had no
need to borrow such concepts from their neighbors.
4.5 Vocabulary of the Bible – Only a Portion of the Living Vocabulary of
Biblical Times
The word tekhol (just cited in another reference) provides convincing
proof that not the entire Hebrew vocabulary of Bible times is contained
in the Bible[13]. This is corroborated by the fact that in the Siloam
inscription we find the word (nikba – “tunnel”), unknown to us from any
other source. Another word from ancient Hebrew documents, which,
however, has not entered the modern vernacular is n-tz-p (perhaps
pronounced netzef). This root does not occur in Hebrew (literature), but
from comparison with Arabic it is clear that it signifies “half” or
“half of a given weight.” The renowned student of Palestinian flora,
Rabbi I. LÖw, found that there are about three hundred words pertaining
to agriculture in Mishnaic Hebrew, many of which do not occur in the
Bible, while some are unknown in any other Semitic Language. Seraf
(“resin”) is but one example.
5. Broadening the Vocabulary – Modern Israeli Hebrew[14]
Our discussion, up to the present, has served to demonstrate the extent
to which the Hebrew vocabulary reflects the conditions of life of the
Jewish people down the ages. Let us now examine the composition of the
vocabulary of the modern spoken language.
In the revival of Hebrew three main methods were adopted in broadening
the vocabulary and making it a vehicle for modern , especially in the
intellectual and technological spheres.
· First ancient “source-books” – the Bible, Mishna and Talmud, medieval
poetry and other literature – were combed for terms which could be
reused in a modern context. For flora, for example, the Mishna and
Talmud are a rich source; they have furnished the words aspesset (“lucerne”),
orez (“rice”), kalanit (“anemone”), selek (“beetroot”), sh’eu’it
(“beans”) and a host of others. This is equally true of other areas.
Most of these words were not in use two generations ago, and it was only
the efforts of scholars and members of the Hebrew Language Committee,
and its successor, the Academy of the Hebrew Language, which have
rescued them from oblivion.
· Another method was to ascribe new meaning to old words. Mokesh can
serve as an example. In the Bible it means “snare” or “trap”; today it
is used in the sense of an (explosive) “mine.” Musaf, a term for one of
the weekly prayers has today become a “supplement” (of a newspaper).
This word typifies a trend in modern Hebrew – namely conversion of
religious words to secular use. This method is not without its dangers.
By retransference strange misconceptions may arise in the minds of
Israeli children reading the Bible e.g., that the Canaanites were a
“mine” for their ancestors, and indeed a young girl in this country
explained to me that the Canaanites sowed mines! Consequently there is
today a tendency to oppose innovations of this kind, at least as far as
Biblical words are concerned.
· The third and commonest method is to create new words from existing
roots. How much we stood in need of even the simplest everyday concepts
is proved by the modern term for “kitchen.” In the past all sorts of
compounds were used; khaddar-habishul (“cooking room”) – still used by
the writer S. Y. Agnon, and beit-habishul (“cookhouse”) are but two
examples. The innovators preferred simple, not compound, words, so
taking the root טבח (t-b-kh) meaning “slaughter” and also “cook” they
created מטבח (mitbakh). Apparantly the choice of this root and form was
influenced by the fact that the cognate is in current use in Arabic. But
there were no words for kitchen utensils and for different kinds of
food. The word mis’adah (“restaurant”) also, is a neologism. The root
occurs in the Bible and from it a new word was coined.
A similar situation existed in regard to household furniture. The
Shunamite woman (II Kings 4:10) furnished Elisha’s chamber with four
items: a mita (“bed”); a shulkhan (“table”); a kisseh (“chair”); and a
menorah (“lamp”). Kisseh, incidentally, is of Sumerian origin. In
Mishnaic Hebrew it was replaced by the Greek kathedra, which appears in
“cathedral” (and it is in a cathedral city that a bishop has his seat),
and also in the English “chair,” through the French – though in the
latter it subsequently became chaise. Today, because of foreign
influences, kathedra is the dais on which the teacher sits.
Classical and post-Classical Hebrew literature was closely examined to
fill the gaps. In the Bible meltakha (“wardrobe”), a word of obscure
origin, was found, and in the Mishna miznon. On the assumption that the
latter was a derivative of the root zon (“to feed”) it was given the
meaning of “cupboard.” Only recently has it become clear that miznon is
of Greek origin, signifying some sort of tray.
The problem in regard to parts of the body was less difficult; indeed,
here the modernists were frequently confronted with an embarrass de
richesse. “Nose,” for instance, is af in the Bible, but khotem in the
Mishna. One scholar, the late Joseph Klausner, Professor of Hebrew
Literature at the Hebrew University, urged a preference for Mishnaic
Hebrew; we should prefer sfina to oniya for “ship,” as the latter does
not appear in the Mishna. His views were not accepted for the simple
reason that the Bible is closer to modern Israelis than the Mishna. But,
somewhat surprisingly, everybody in this country says ani rotzeh as in
the Mishna, and not ani khafetz, as in the Bible for “I want.” The
Israeli vernacular is eclectic; every usage has its own reasons, though
often it is difficult to explain a preference.
There is no end to innovations in the domain of technology.
Understandably, few were founding ancient sources and the majority have
been borrowed from foreign tongues. The Greek mekhane has been given a
Hebrew garb in mekhona for “machine.” Hence mekhonit for “motor-car,”
and, by dropping the “kh” we have monit, a taxi, which looks as if it
were related to the root מנה (mnh – “to count”) and is thus closer to
the original meaning of “taxi” (which, of course, is short for
“taximeter”).
In most cases, however, it proved necessary to create new words from
Hebrew or Aramaic roots. The Biblical tzelem (“image,” “form”) was used
to form tzilem (“to photograph”), and hence the words tatzlum (“a
photograph”), matzelma (“camera”), and tzalmania (“photographic studio”)
No modern army can make do with the keshet (“bow”) and khetz (“arrow”)
of the Bible. The words roveh and totakh, both Biblical in origin, were
given the meanings of “rifle” and “cannon” respectively; but for
“machine-gun” mikla was coined, from the word in the Bible meaning “to
sling stones.”
New words formed from initial letters are not uncommon in modern Hebrew,
e.g., duakh from din vekheshbon (“report”), which has produced a new
verb ledave’akh (“to report”).
A similar method of word formation is the fusion of two words in one.
Tapuakh-zhav (lit. “golden apple” - “orange”) has become tapuz. There is
also tapuakh-adama (lit. “ground-apple” a loan-translation of the German
Erdapfel). These two have given rise to another compound tapuakh-etz
(lit. “tree-apple”) – a tautologous form, as in the Bible tapuakh plain
and simple, means “apple.” But in Israel a generation ago tapukhim were
rare and expensive, while the other two varities were plentiful. So
Hebrew speakers influenced by the tapukhei-zhav and tapukhei –adama
coined tapukhei-etz to specify what they were referring to.
The tale of words and their metamorphoses is complex and interesting and
requires far more than a brief essay for adequate presentation. However,
the present account may serve to illustrate the appropriateness of Job’s
ancient dictum “Doth not the ear try words?” (Job 12:11).
From:
http://www.adath-shalom.ca/hebrew_words_history.htm
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