On Hydronymy of Germania

 

Ok, we resisted going here for a while.  But, in good fun, let us try an exercise of “where do Slavs come from” without invoking the Venethi/Venedi/Veneti…  Or even without invoking some of the allegedly “Celtic” tribes.  Can we do that and not revert back to some Ural/Pripet Marshes silliness?

Turns out we can – at least for fun… Or is it?  You decide.  To do that we must ask… who were the “Germanic Tribes” that populated (or moved through) vast parts of Europe.  Could some of them have been Slavs?

It turns out that the question is nontrivial.  For example, there is a long history of back and forth about certain tribes and whether they were Celtic or Germanic.  The only reason no one has (recently) undertaken the same with the Slavs is that the Slavs are not supposed to be in Germania until the 6th century at the earliest.

But what do we mean by that?  What do we mean by Slavs here?  Well, people who later formed the core or maybe a portion of the Slavic tribes known to history.  People who did not speak a Germanic language (or what we think of as Germanic) but something different – perhaps not a Slavic language but something closer to Slavic and out of which Slavic arose than to Germanic language.

We must first observe that the German name “Germani” was not German per se.  It was a Latin word that was derived from Gaulish (or so it is thought).  Could it be then that the subsequent names containing –manni (Alemanni?  Marcomanni) are “Gaulish” too?  And who are these Gauls then?  For they seem to be speaking, if this is true, a proper German dialect?

Putting aside the Gauls, what language did their neighbors, these Germanic tribes speak then?  Turns out we do not know.  Let us be clear about this.  Of all the old Germanic languages only Gothic is attested and the primary source for this is Ulfilas’ Bible.  All the other evidence for the Germanic or non-Germanic nature of any tribe comes from personal names of the various chieftains.  Now those names sometimes sound Germanic and sometimes not.  In general, they get very much more Germanic, however,  once the Goths make their appearance.

Now the Goths clearly spoke a Germanic language.  Although… the funny thing is that Germanic language seems closer to Slavic than various West Germanic languages.  Perhaps that is because the Slavs were part of the Gothic Imperium.  Perhaps.  But it is also the case that Scandinavian languages in general seem much closer to Slavic than proper German.  Compare the various Polish -skis with the same -sk in Swedish.  For example, isn’t it odd that that Polska, the Polish name for Poland sports the same suffix as Svenska, the Swedish word meaning Swedish?  And that both are adjectives?  We will return to this topic.  But now for the topic at hand.

What would such a theory of Slavic Germans look like?

 On the Name of the Slavs

The Slavic name is often presented as meaning either (a) glory/glorious or (b) relating to words.

As regards the first theory, it is supposed to be a self-congratulatory remark on the fame of the bearers of the same.  In fact, it is true that “slava” does mean fame.  However, in some West Slavic languages, notably Polish, the word is chwala – pronounced hvaua.  Slava, notably pronounced in Polish suava, means fame.  Both are very ancient although chwala/hvaua may be older.

The other theory of the “word” is often brought up.  The word for word in Slavic languages is “slovo” which in Polish is pronounced suovo.  As a strong point in the theory’s favour it is pointed out that in all Slavic languages the word for Germans is Niemcy/Nemcy or, supposedly the “dumb” ones, i.e., the ones who do not speak the language.  What language?  Well, the language, namely Slavic.  There is are several problems with this theory.  For one, it presupposes that the earliest or at least most-important non-Slavic speakers the Slavs encountered were the Germans and not various Iranian tribes, Balts, Greeks, etc.  For that there is little evidence from your usual historiography (but see below).  That is to say, no other non-Slavic speakers that were or are neighbors to the Slavs are called “dumb” – even ones whose language is arguably further away on the language tree from Slavic than Germanic dialects would be.  The other problem here is that the Czech Němec, the Polish Niemiec, the Slovak Nemec, the Polabian Nemëc or the Kashubian Miemc or any of the South or East Slavic “German” names does not mean dumb as in mute.  The Czech term is němý, the Polish term is niemy, the Slovak term is nemý etc.  (BTW several other ones translate, interestingly enough, into glupi meaning intellectually challenged, with the same double meaning as in the English dumb.

So where does the “c” come from?

(hint: t > c)

There is another objection to either of these impressive theories.  Any such meaning would be unusual for Slavic tribes – most of whose designations seem to be based on toponymy, hydronymy or similar geographic concepts.  This is particularly so with Slavic words with an –ene ending.  In fact, we are hardly the first to notice this as a number of scholars have sought for the topographical feature – most likely in their view a river – that would seal the answer to the question of where do Slavs come from.  Thus, for example, the linguist Max Vasmer says that *-ěninъ, *-aninъ only occurs in place names so that *slověne would likely be derived from such a place name – “most likely” a hydronym.  Maybe a river?

No such river – at least no such river of any sufficiently large magnitude has been found yet, however.  And our scholars were anything but lazy we ought to point out.  Thus, the various “nationalist” scientists searched within their respective countries’ jurisdictions.  The Poles covered most of the Bug-Oder realm.  The Czechs diligently searched the Bohemian lands.  The Slovenes, Serbs and Croats their own countries and, just to be sure, Hungary (former Pannonia – you never know).  The Russians and Ukrainians went through all of Russia and Ukraine.  The Belorussians made their contribution scouring Volhynnia.  The Germans, being most diligent of all, of course, searched with a comb from their favourite Pripet Marshes all the way to the Urals and beyond.  No success so far, though we are told the German search may be nearing Alaska so we may have our answer soon (after all Alaska does have an -ska in it – some even claim it’s a Russian word (but maybe Swedish… dope!) – so that could be it after all!).

Taking heed of the advice of a fictional but rather perceptive English detective and his time-worn advice, we are inclined to ask whether our scholars have by now eliminated all the impossibilities and whether whatever may remain to be looked at, in all its glorious improbability, must nevertheless be the sought after truth?

 The Current State of Play

Here is the current state of thinking on European history.  In the time of the great Ceasar, the time of Cornellius Tacitus and the time of Claudius Ptolemy (from the 40s B.C. all the way through 150 A.D.) Germany was occupied by Germanic tribes (well, duh!).  Then other Germanic tribes showed up in the third century, namely the Goths.  They caused all kinds of trouble but were eventually contained.  But only until the Huns showed up.  The Huns drove the Goths through the Roman lines and the Goths and Huns ravaged Rome and each other until various Germanic Kingdoms sprung up only to be beaten down one by one by the Byzantines and, eventually, the Arabs.  In the meantime all of former Germania emptied itself of its peoples so that those sneaky Slavs used this opportunity to move in and modern Europe was born (until the Germans begin their Reconquista with the Drang Nach Osten, a process that takes us through most of history until its recent, no doubt temporary, set back).

On the Letter “Ł”

The letter “Ł” exists in only a few languages.  It exists in Polish, Kashubian, Upper and Lower Sorbian and the Latin versions of Ukrainian and Belorussian.  Also in the Vilamovian (Wilmesaurisch) dialect of German.  In Navajo (!)  Oh yes, and in the current Venetian dialect of Italy (we just can’t get away from the Venetians it seems).  In Polish it was proposed first by Jakub Parkoszowic (we know Jacob from his study of Polish orthography which also happens to mention the Goddess Nia – you can read more about that here).  In fact, the “Ł” is also the unofficial car bumper sticker for “Łuzyce”, i.e., Lusatia/Lausitz (on the Sorbian cars only, of course).

The sound that the letter “Ł” is supposed to represent is closest to the English “w” but can also be represented by “uo” or “ue” or “ua”.  The Russian “Л л” or “э л” gets at the same point but sometimes it is pronounced like a  normal “L l”.  Other Cyryllic alphabets have the same split use of those letters.

Curiously, though it is the “Ł” sound not the “L” sound that is present in the, e.g., Polish pronunciation of the word “Slav”.  Thus, for example, in Polish the word “Slav” is “Słowianin” which is pronounced Swoveaneen or, if you prefer this spelling, Suoveaneen.  

Now in English it is not uncommon to get frightened of the above “Ł” sound and just change into the next closest letter, i.e., “L”.  That, however, changes its sound for the unaware reader and obfuscates analytics.

Oh, and one other thing, apparently, in the 15th-16th century the “Ł” sound was in use among the Polish commoners whereas the nobility used “L”.  Curious.

What can you do with all of this water? 

Now, of course, there is a river in Germany (three in fact) that goes by the name Saale.  That name is German.  The Slavic version of the (Saxon) Saale is Soława which is pronounced Souava. This version is attested in many different sources such as the Annales Polonorum (or Wincenty of Kielce aka Wincenty z Kielczy referring to the same incident: et in media Solaua columpnam figens ferream fines limitauit).

Supposing (just for a moment) that some Slavic tribe did manage to in the vicinity of the Souava and were to be named after the Slavic name for that river, what would that name look like? Souaveane? Then Suoveane?

That can’t possibly be it though.  Let us look at the ever giving Wikipedia.  In fact, given the difficulty of the subject in front of us, let us make sure that we look at the one Wikipedia that delivers the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (not the English one).

So what can we learn about this curious river name from the German Wikipedia?  Well, we learn that the name has something may have something to do with the German Saal or really sul meaning salt and with ava.  Now, there are saltworks in the Halle region which would explain the salt connection.  But there are a few “disturbances” in the Force or glitches in the Matrix.

Sul may well have been a German word for salt but now it is Salz.  Slavic, however, currently calls salt sul,  as the town on the Saale by the name of Suhl may attest.  And what does one do with suhl (e.g., Polish sól but pronounced suhl)?  Well, one salts or soli.

Moreover, not all the German Saale rivers may be explained by a salty connection.  Just this one.     On the Slavic side of the ledger, however, Soława/Souava refers only to this Saale and to the Frankian Saale but the latter name is not attested in Slavic languages at any early time, i.e., may represent a transfer from the Souava simply by reason of the fact that the Germans called both rivers Saale.

Well, if the Slavic word has something to do with saltworks then the Slavs must have only named the river after those saltworks were set up.  And before that the river was no doubt called Saale – a river name that the stubborn Slavs refused to adopt (Slavs are notorious for not adopting German river names and coming up with their own – the iron rule that hydronims last through all kinds of Voelkerwanderungen obviously is a rule that Slavic roving bands do not follow – wonder why that is).

In any event, we can no doubt show the arrival of the industrious Germans, followed by the naming of the river (Saale), then the establishment (by the aforementioned Germans) of the saltworks, then the arrival of the Slavs (no doubt as laborers for the German saltworks (salt mines?)) and the appearance for the first time of the Slavic Soława/Souava name.

Unfortunately, it seems that the saltworks were present in the area even before the birth of Christ and the first attested name for the river is a Slavic one – specifically attested by our friend Ibrahim-ibn-Yaqub in 973 as S-lava. (No Yaqub did not have a “Ł” available in his letter repertoire).  Specifically, he wrote:

“Nubgrad (Novigrad) is a fort built of stone and lime, and it is on the Slawah into which falls the river Bode.  And from Nubgrad to Mallahat al-Yahud [the saltpans of the Jews? Salzmunde? In any event, we got our salt] which is on the Slawah river, is thirty miles.  From there to the fort of Burjin [Wuerzen], which is on the River Muldawah… and from it to edge of the forest is twenty-five miles; from its beginning to its end is forty miles, through mountains and forests.”

(yes, there is a Sala listed by Strabo between which and the Rhine Drusus Germanicus fell off his horse but that was the Fraenkische Saale, a different river).

But what of the –ava?  It is an Old-Germanic or at least Gothic word for what?  Water?  Of course,  see auwa, ouwa, ahva, aha =  Wasser!

Aha!

Now you know that Agua is really a German word!

Maybe, but only inasmuch as similar words surface, so to speak, in all European languages including in various Slavic languages, e.g., Murava, Ostrava, oh yes, also “Muldawah” and Moldava (see above).

Scheisse! (Pardon us!)

Aha, we got it!  What if we looked at the authors of antiquity!?  No doubt the name Saale will pop up right away!

Let’s look at Ptolemy.  No Saale here.

Strange, though, there is a river here that sounds somewhat like Souava or Suava.  Its name is Suevus in Ptolemy.  But that can’t be it – for one thing the Saxon Saale runs into the Elbe (Slavic Łaba, albis = lebed = swan?), whereas Ptolemy says the Suevus has a mouth so it empties into… into what?  The Ocean of course.  Or does it?  But we know Suevus is the Oder or the Vistula or something like that.

Now, of course there are other examples of the -a to -us switch in the Roman tongue.  E.g., Drava > Dravus, Sava > Savus, so Souava > Souavus does not seem to be a major stretch.

Be that as it may, this (Suevus) was the river near which the most Germanic of the Germans dwelt in antiquity – the Suevi, Suavi or Suebi.  And we know that this great and populous nation occupied virtually all of Germany and certainly all of the various parts of Germany that were later occupied by the newcomers from the Pripet Marshes (or better yet from beyond the Urals), the not so great but, admittedly, also just as populous Slavic tribe of Suoveane (or as we like to spell them to make sure they do not look too much like the Suevi, the Slovene).

In order to dispel all this confusion, it seems that we have to write something about the Mighty German Tribe of the Suevi.

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