All the news that is fit to print seems to be coming from a place called ‘Kiv’. At least that’s what it sounds like to me and, in fact, the updated spelling of ‘Kyiv’ for what we used to spell as ‘Kiev’ has been the subject of much comment. It is so convenient that this great linguistic reset took place at the behest of the Ukrainian government’s ‘#KyivnotKiev’ campaign in advance of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, as we are now getting plenty of practice. These poor blighters may be having the bejeebers bombed out of them, but we’ll pronounce the name of their capital properly. After all, it is the least we can do. In fact, I think we should spell it properly as in ‘Ки́їв’ and learn to pronounce that. It’s ‘Kyiv’ this and ‘Kyiv’ that on the BBC with the occasional grovelling ‘Kiev, sorry Kyiv’.
Why do we do this? Why are we always the ones to compromise? Admittedly, we don’t do it all the time. Only the most pretentious amongst us refers to the capital of France as ‘Paree’ or visits the Coliseum in ‘Roma’. But we do all visit ‘Beijing’ as opposed to ‘Peking’ and report from ‘Myanmar’ which all the Burmese people I know still refer to as ‘Burma’. We mostly bend over backwards to accommodate other people’s preferences. But is it reciprocated?
I have graced many a dining table in Spanish homes and restaurants and I am always caught out by people asking me if I like “Isabella” or tries to strike up a conversation about this woman ‘Isabella’ who, purportedly, I know. My blank look—which I must admit I have affected on my most recent visits—elicits “Queen Isabella! You know, the mother or Carlos!”. The peseta drops, and I say “Ah, oh, you mean our Queen Elizabeth?” to which I usually get one of those offended Spanish stares down the length of a long Spanish nose and “No! Is Isabella. Is her name.” And there’s no shifting them. They claim that ‘Isabella’ is the Spanish equivalent of ‘Elizabeth’. The veracity of this claim is tenuous, as they well know. Despite the Iberian equivalence of the two names (and the French also seemed slightly confused with their ‘Isabelle’, but they have an excuse; they’re French) my Spanish colleagues well know that elsewhere in the enlightened parts of Europe, the two names are distinct.
In any case, f’Gawd sakes, she is called ‘Elizabeth’ by us, and they should know that and use it. If it is equivalent, then using the anglified—and correct—form of ‘Elizabeth’ surely won’t hurt them. You’ll note that they also refer to his Royal Tree Hugness as ‘Carlos’ – fair enough, that is the direct equivalent to Charles. But ironically, we assiduously refer to their last sexually athletic and corrupt head of state as ‘King Carlos’. I am sure that reference to ‘King Charles’ would earn a thump on the side of the head with a large leg of cured jamon.
And back to Kiev, sorry Kyiv. I see that Sainsbury’s, that great guardian of the nation’s values, has renamed their ‘chicken Kiev’ as ‘chicken Kyiv’ in solidarity with the Ukrainian people, and Marks & Spencer has followed suit. Vladimir Putin must be lying awake at night and wondering ‘Maybe I’ve gone too far this time.’ In any case, the dish we now refer to as ‘chicken Kiev’ (SORRY! Kyiv – I’ll get the hang of this in due course) came from Moscow and was only perfected by a Ukrainian chef. The origin of the chef is not known, but my guess is he came from Ки́їв (see what I did there?). If Sainsbury’s and other virtue signalling shopping outlets really want to poke Putin in the eye, they should rename the dish ‘chicken Moscow’ and take it off the shelves.
We should all make our linguistic war efforts to show solidarity with the Ukrainian people, and eliminate all terminology that may lend vicarious support to the invaders. Thus, I am going to slow down, leave things lying around the house and clean up my language. In other words, I won’t be ‘rushin’ around, ‘putin’ anything back on the shelves and never a ‘volga’ word will pass my lips.
Roger Watson is a retired academic, editor and writer. He is a columnist with Unity News Network and writes regularly for a range of conservative journals including The Salisbury Review and The European Conservative. He has travelled and worked extensively in the Far East and the Middle East. He lives in Kingston upon Hull, UK.
It will always be ‘Chicken Kevin’ in our house.