|
Home > Archive > Schizophrenia Support > October 2004 > ADV-NEWS, "It seems like half the population is named after Genghis," Surna
You are viewing an archived Text-only version of the thread.
To view this thread in it's original format and/or if you want to reply to
this thread please [click here]
| Author |
ADV-NEWS, "It seems like half the population is named after Genghis," Surna
|
|
| Cymbal Man Freq. 2004-10-31, 7:06 pm |
| First-name basis goes the way of Mongolian Communism -- out
Mark Magnier, Los Angeles Times
October 31, 2004
ULAN BATOR, MONGOLIA -- School principal Baast chose the name "Nomad" in keeping
with his wandering spirit. Defense Minister Gurragchaa -- the only Mongolian to
venture into space -- settled on "Cosmos." And anthropology student Vanchigdash
picked the Mongolian word for "Wisdom."
Mongolians, long used to using only first names, are reshaping their identities
under a government-led initiative to add surnames.
For those who didn't give it much thought, and even some who did, the most
obvious choice for a surname was, is and always will be Borjigin, the clan name
of Genghis Khan, the 12th-century warrior and native son who put the Central
Asian nation on the map.
"It seems like half the population is named after Genghis," said Ganaa, a
30-year-old mother whose family initially considered Borjigin before settling on
Aldar, the name of their ancestral village. "It's good we're adopting surnames,
because there's been lots of confusion. But with everyone choosing Genghis'
name, that's also confusing."
The new hereditary system of surnames promises to create more historic
continuity than the use of one name. So far, however, most Mongolians still
don't use them, except on the most formal of occasions.
"To tell you the truth, I can't remember mine," said Odonbayar, a 24-year-old
herder from southwestern Mongolia.
First names worked reasonably well in an isolated, nomadic culture. But
officials say surnames are now needed to avoid confusion in a more modern
society, to help uncover long-buried roots as people delve into their clan
histories and to prevent the sort of inbreeding that occurs when you're not sure
who your relatives are.
Mongolia did once have family names. Local historians claim that the country was
among the first to adopt them and cite clan-name entries in "The Secret History
of the Mongols," a 13th-century text.
This tradition was ended, however, when Mongolian Communists swept to power in
the early 1920s. Clan names were initially banned in order to improve tax
collection. So many people at the time shared the same last name, said Lonjid, a
Mongolian State university historian, that using your first name -- and
occasionally your father's for clarity -- was seen as a way to make names more
distinct.
Once in place, the surname ban stuck, in part because it suited Mongolia's
often-brutal Communist regime, historians say. By wiping out clan names and
historic baggage, the revolutionaries hoped to stifle resistance by the former
aristocracy -- so-called "golden relative" clans that traced their lineage to
Genghis.
Mongolia first passed a law requiring surnames in 1997, but it was largely
ignored until this year, when the names became necessary for a new government
identity card. Now, more than 90 percent of Mongolia's 2.5 million people have
adopted them, experts say. Holdouts tend to be herders and nomads in the
country's more remote areas.
Many of those looking for help in choosing a name have turned to a how-to book
written by Serjee, a linguist and director of the State Central Library of
Mongolia. Look for histories that might reveal a family or clan name, he advised
from his cavernous office in downtown Ulan Bator, the capital -- although
finding an original family name doesn't necessarily guarantee you'll want to use
it.
"My research suggests most original Mongolian surnames were bestowed by
neighbors in the village," Serjee said. "These include 'Thief' and 'Family of
Seven Drunks.' "
If that fails, adopt a clan name specific to a geographic area, he suggested, or
use a profession, a hometown, a nickname, something from nature or something
unique about your lifestyle.
"Be imaginative, be brave," he said. "Make up your own name. They may be new
now, but in 50 years, they'll be old."
The naming frenzy has led individuals to some unexpected discoveries. When
Dorjnamjim, head of the Mongolia office of the International Finance Corp., got
together with family members, he learned that his father already knew their
original last name -- Urianhai -- but had kept it a secret.
Most Mongolians would immediately recognize Urianhai as the name of a Buddhist
monk, part of a group particularly hated by Communists trying to wipe out
religion. "If you were a monk, you were put to sleep forever by Stalin's
Mongolian puppets," Dorjnamjim said. *****
Other cultures
Mongolia may be late to the surname game, but its reasons for doing so, which
include a desire to avoid confusion and appear more modern, dovetail with the
experiences of other cultures.
Throughout history, surnames have been adopted at different times by different
cultures. One of the first references dates back to 2852 B.C., when a Chinese
emperor decreed the use of hereditary family names. England, motivated by a
shortage of first names, introduced them over a 600-year period starting around
A.D. 1000. Japan made the push after 1870 as part of a modernization drive, and
Turkey was as late as 1935. Some nations, including Indonesia and some Pacific
Islands, still rely on one name.
Mongolia's drive to add surnames, whatever they may be, reflects a bid to
reverse some of the social problems resulting from the ban.
One of these has been unwitting inbreeding, resulting in deformed children.
Communist resettlement policies in the 1950s and '60s conspired with Mongolia's
lack of surnames to boost intermarriage among close family groups, medical
experts say. Unfortunately, poverty and Mongolia's expanse -- it's larger than
Germany, France and Spain combined -- have prevented detailed studies of the
problem.
|
| |
|
|