Minority language naming patterns in the 20th century: A socio-onomastic comparative study of Scotland and the Basque Country

Minority language naming patterns in the 20th century: A socio-onomastic comparative study of Scotland and the Basque Country

Cet article examine le rôle des prénoms dans les langues minoritaires en tant qu'outils de construction et de démonstration des identités nationales. Les prénoms constituent un moyen de démontrer les liens culturels et cela est particulièrement vrai dans les langues minoritaires. Ce travail calcule l'évolution des prénoms en langues minoritaires donnés aux enfants au Pays Basque et en Écosse entre 1930 et 2019. Les résultats montrent que les prénoms des langues minoritaires existent dans la société comme un stock distinct de prénoms qui suit un schéma logique, augmentant lorsque l'identité nationale est socialement significative et diminuant lorsque la mondialisation dilue les sentiments nationalistes et élargit le stock de prénoms disponibles. Les résultats montrent également qu'il existe des modèles de genre discernables et localement bien différenciés, comme l'est aussi le rapport entre les prénoms des langues minoritaires et la capacité linguistiques des minorités, ce qui démontre que certains éléments des modèles de prénoms des minorités dépendent du contexte et ne sont pas universels.

Onomastique sociale. Prénoms. Langues minoritaires. Identité nationale. Politiques onomastiques.

1. Introduction 

Everyone has a first name. Everyone has opinions on their first name, and that of others. Frequently, this opinion is related to our perception of what a person’s first name reveals about their identity: a name can denote a person’s gender, age, class, race, nationality, as well as attributes like personality or kinship. We are all therefore intimately aware of the identitarian capabilities of names. Names can also denote culture: an anthroponym can be chosen to identify a person as a member of a certain society. This can be done through the language of the name: if someone has, for example, a Chinese name in a country where this is not the main language, it points to a significant relationship to Chinese culture. When the language of a name is in a minority language (a language which is spoken by a minority group and which is at some level of risk), this is a way of centering said culture in the person’s identity and setting them apart from the speakers of the majority language.[1]

Names in minority languages are unique in that the culture they are linked to is in a state of risk, sometimes even oppression, and therefore their usage as identitarian markers is socially salient and their evolutions might not follow the patterns of majority languages. This article will track the evolution of minority language first names in the Basque Country and Scotland in the 1940-2010 period, and will use the data to put forth hypotheses centred around three main axes (historical developments, gender, and globalisation) to discuss the relationship between minority language anthroponyms and identities.

Names are used in every known society (Alford 1988: 1) to identify their bearer. First names can reflect identities at many levels: personal, familial, societal, cultural, etc. (Bramwell 2016b). Although the relationship between names and identity has been explored in Alford 1988, Aldrin 2016, Longobardi 2005, etc, there is a significant gap in the exploration of minority names and national identity in diglossic societies with a minority language. Considering the heightened symbolic meaning that minority languages often hold in the formation of national and political identities (Oliver 2005), and the well-recorded usage of first names as identity markers, there is a significant literature gap regarding research into minority language first names and their usage as identity markers. A few articles on first name minority onomastics have recently appeared, with examples including Fernandez Juncal (2019) or Bramwell (2016a). It is a nascent area of academic interest which should be further explored. Some of the studies which make up the newly emergent field of minority language anthroponomastics focus on the Basque Country and Scotland, due to the controversial status of Scottish Gaelic and Basque names in society, the onomastic diglossia found in both areas, and relevant recent historical developments.

My study begins with a review of the current literature in first name onomastics and specifically Basque and Scottish Gaelic first name onomastics, followed by a chapter where I describe my data and methodology. In chapter 3 I showcase my data, giving an overview of my diagrams as well as the topics for discussion engendered by them, and follow that with a discussion chapter in which I analyse my data according to each of axes. I end this with a conclusion which synthesises my findings and points toward new paths for minority language onomastic research.

2. Literature review 

In this chapter, I give an overview of the main literature relevant to this study, touching on the fields of socio-onomastics and minority language onomastics, specifically Basque and Scottish Gaelic onomastics.

2.1. Socio-onomastics 

Socio-onomastics is a newly emergent field which analyses names from the lens of societal practices and power structures. Names and Naming: People, Places, Perceptions and Power (2016) by Puzey and Konstansky applies a critical approach to socio-onomastics by highlighting worldwide case studies on names within societies and their role as identity signifiers. Ainiala and Ostman, in their 2017 introduction to socio-onomastics and pragmatics, define this field as a “systematic perspective on the dynamic analysis of names and naming” which does not so much focus on etymology but on the usage of names in society. They touch on a fundamental fact of naming: speakers can sometimes identify a person as being part of a particular social (religious, national, linguistic, etc) group through their first name.

Socio-onomastics are also the subject of several chapters in Hough et al. (2016), such as Ainiala (2016) where she explains how names are a part of culture and tradition, and that name variation is not random but follows a logic. There are several socio-onomastic studies in Spanish-speaking areas, such as those by Campo Yumar who has worked extensively in Cuba. Namely, his 2021 article with Rabelo Fresno offers a typology of first names according to structure and referent, and his 2023 article asserts that Cubans associate stereotypes to first names, although they are more evident with regards to objective elements such as age and gender, rather than intelligence or physical attributes.

Within socio-onomastics we find a small body of literature regarding the relation of names to identity. Aldrin (2016) is a comprehensive review of the theories and literature available which explores the relationship of these two concepts regarding social identity, cultural identity, perception, and more. She mentions that “the choice of name can act as an expression or construction of cultural identities” (Aldrin 2016) and minority identities are mentioned in passing. Aldrin also mentions how there is not a unified theory of the significance of a first name on a person’s identity: some theorists, such as Alford (1988: 36) and Longobardi (2005: 190) claim that names have a real effect on the bearer’s identity, whilst others, such as von Bruck and Bodenhorn (2006: 27), understand the relationship as symbolic. Alford, in his 1998 monograph on names and identity, asserts that first names serve the opposite yet complimentary goals of distinction from others and identification with a group. His large-scale cross-cultural study of naming finds, among other things, that in 38% of the studied societies name-giving “signals the child’s membership in the society” (Alford 1998: 30), adding that “applying a name seems to be a functional equivalent to visual means of imparting the stamp of culture on the child” (ibid: 31). Mateos (2014) highlights the usage of names for the “categorisation of individuals into a social matrix” (ibid: 45). He explains that parents do not choose first names randomly but with an awareness of the power of first names to convey identity, with native language being a key factor of name selection. Bulliet (1978) tracks the evolution of three Muslim names in Turkish history through the names of Parliament members and finds that their popularity spikes happen at the same time as major historical events linked to Turkish-Muslim identity. Leibring (2010: 210) uses Franco’s banning of Catalan names as an example of name choices being used to demonstrate a regional identity.

Regarding the effect on gender on naming, Aldrin (2009: 91) finds that multilingual families living in Sweden, “Swedish names are more common when it is the father who speaks Swedish than where it is the mother who does (93% or 13 of 14 versus 60% or 12 of 20)”, leading the author to believe that the father’s ethnic identity is favoured in the onomastic identity-forming process, and, therefore, that men and women have different roles in this process”. This is also the case amongst Latino families in the US as per Sue and Telles (2007), who also find that male children are seen as carriers of the family line and name. Fernandez Juncal (2018) finds this also occurs in the Basque village of Turtzioz in Bizkaia. Leibring (2010: 210) briefly mentions the role of gender in first name choice, declaring that girl’s name stocks are larger and their lifespans shorter, marking girls’ names as the space for innovation where boys’ tend to uphold tradition and name inheritance. I argue (4.2) that this is the case for Basque names, but not Gaelic ones, although both name stocks are affected by gendered patterns. Ainiala (2016: 388) expresses a need for more research on how gender affects “the creation of cultural identity through name choice”, which this article touches upon.

In terms of the effect of globalisation of first name choices, Luján-García (2015) finds that the trend of giving Spanish-born children English names is on the rise, with the average age of English name-bearers being 13 in the case of boys and 20 in the case of girls. She concludes that globalisation and migration have altered the name stock starting in the 1990 and 2000s decades, which my research supports (4.3). Gerritzen (2006) also finds that international names (those that can be reasonably used in multiple countries) dominated popular name lists in European countries in the early 2000s, as parents anticipate that their children will have international contacts. This, in turn, weakens the position of national and regional names. There is little research on how the internationalisation of names affects minority language first names. Dalhatu (2020) finds that the use of Gbagyi first names amongst the speakers of this Nigerian language has fallen drastically as a consequence of an onomastic shift first to Hausa and then English names. Those who named their children in English mentioned “westernization, Christianity, modernization and globalization” (ibid: 99) as their reasons. My article addresses this issue and suggests minority language names might be particularly vulnerable in the face of onomastic internationalisation.

2.2. Minority languages and minority language onomastics 

Durk et al. (2012: 8) define minority languages not according to size but according to the fact that power is mediated through language, especially in the public sphere. As such, minority languages are those where the speakers exist in a power dynamic with speakers of another language (or languages), within which they feel “as if they are of lesser value”. Calaforra (2003: 1) further defines them as languages with a restricted sphere of use and whose speakers are always bilingual since they must speak the majority language of their territory. This highlights the power relations which affect the naming customs and patterns of Basque and Scottish Gaelic. I use this term interchangeably with “minority language”.

Regarding minority language onomastics, two notable articles by Walkowiak outline the effect of language policy upon minority languages: “Minority language policy regarding personal names – an overview” (2011) and “Personal Names in Language Policy and Planning: Who Plans What Names, for Whom and How?” (2016). The 2011 article explains the significant way in which minority name stocks can be altered by linguistic policy, to both promote or eradicate a cultural identity. All in all, however, there is a general lack of meaningful interaction with minority languages in the field of first name socio-onomastics, unlike with place names where the field is slightly more developed, with studies such as Puzey (2008) which analyses the usage of minority languages in road signage and their relationship to identity.

The relationship between Scottish Gaelic language and Scottish identity in the past 50 years is explored in Oliver (2005), who proposes the theory of Gaelic having become a symbol of the whole of Scotland after the so-called “Gaelic Renaissance”. Very little literature can be found on Scottish Gaelic naming practices. Bramwell’s 2016 article “Personal Naming and Community Practices in the Western Isles of Scotland: Putting Names in the ‘Gaelic Sense’”. This article offers an overview of the various naming structures which occur in the Western Isles and mentions the usage of translated names (official English name and Gaelic everyday name) by Gaelic speakers, reflecting their bilingual and bicultural identity.

A small number of articles explore Basque naming practices. Gorrotxategi (2000) is an in-depth quantitative analysis of the evolution of Basque naming patterns over the past century, which also offers an overview of the history of Basque names. Gorrotxategi (2006) explores name lists from the Spanish Second Republic and how the 1939 banning of non-Spanish names affected them. He finds that Basque names were common in this period, particularly during the war, and almost all of them disappeared from the records after this law came into force. He outlines the evolution of francoist and post-dictatorship onomastic law: the 1939 law prohibiting all non-Spanish names, the 1957 modification which allowed for untranslatable historically relevant names, and the 1977 law which permitted naming children in any language of Spain, which newly included Basque. Satrustegui, in his 2018 article on anthroponyms, explains the 20th-century movements to translate traditional biblical names to Basque and, later in the century, to create an onomasticon through recovery of historical names and establishment of new rules. He also highlights instances of onomastic discrimination against those with Basque names in the Francoist and transition periods.

Gorrotxategi (2019) quantifies the spread of Basque names in multiple Spanish provinces and offers guidelines to classify what names can be classified as being Basque, as well as a typology. Fernandez Juncal (2018) touches most directly upon Basque socio-onomastics. The author studies anthroponyms in a Basque village in a state of linguistic transition by quantifying the amount of Basque anthroponyms with a diachronic approach, from pre-1965 to post-2000. Garaio (2017) is a quali-quantitative study of Spanish-born Basque name bearers. It finds that Spanish parents are increasingly giving their children Basque names (starting 15 years ago), and that this is largely done as a way to give children original names and influenced by personal ties to the Basque Country. This emergent body of literature shows a growing interest for Basque anthroponomastics.

All in all, the field of critical socio-onomastics has begun to interact with minority languages in the past few years, and research on the history, typology, and patterns of Basque and Scottish Gaelic names has begun to appear. There is also some research on the influence of linguistic policy on minority language stock, and the socio-onomastic field has briefly touched upon the usage of names as cultural identity markers. However, there has not yet been substantial engagement with these three topics in a unified manner; critical socio- onomastic research on the usage of minority language names as identity markers, and the role of linguistic policy in shaping these decisions, has not been sufficiently addressed. This study inhabits that niche by offering a quantitative, diachronic analysis of the naming patterns of two minority languages and offering potential explanations behind the evolutions. The comparative element allows me to go one step further in asserting the extent to which the hypotheses put forward are exclusive to one language or, rather, occur in a more generalised manner across minority languages and cultures.

3. Data and methodology 

In this section, I give an overview of my data sources for Scotland and the Basque Country and explain the methodology used. I first talk about the data source for Basque Country and its treatment, mentioning the cases for which I set out special guidelines. I then do the same for the Scottish data.

3.1. Basque data

My data consists of lists of names given to children in a certain year or decade. In the case of the Basque Country, my data comes from the Instituto Nacional de Estadística (the Spanish National Institute for Statistics), which provides a list of every name given to children born on a certain decade as long as there are at least 5 bearers of said name. Each list is for a particular province, gender, and decade, and spans the decades 1930-2010. I analysed the male and female lists for three provinces: Gipuzkoa, Bizkaia, and Araba.

These provinces are not the whole of the Basque Country as it is sometimes understood. The Basque Country is comprised of seven provinces (Conversi 2008): three provinces in France (Lapurdi, Baxe Nafarroa, and Zuberoa) and four in Spain (Nafarroa, Gipuzkoa, Bizkaia, and Araba). It is not a recognised political or administrative entity, but it shares a language and culture, and has an identitarian and independentist movement which has greatly impacted the sociopolitical framework. Gipuzkoa, Bizkaia, and Araba make up the Basque Autonomous Community, and Nafarroa is its own Autonomous Community. In Spain, Autonomous Communities are political and administrative divisions with their own legislative chamber, and, in the case of these two communities, a high level of authority on domestic executive, administrative, and financing matters (Leon & Jurado 2020).

I chose to focus on the Basque Autonomous community because it is beyond the scope of this study to include and standardise data from Spain as well as France. Further, focusing on a specific Autonomous Community rather than a number of different provinces with different sociopolitical contexts and makeups allows me to draw clearer and more specific conclusions. Finally, the Basque language is more present in the BAC, with 50% of the population of Gipuzkoa being able to speak the language as opposed to only 12% in Navarra (VI Inkesta Soziolinguistikoa 2016: 5), and Basque nationalist sentiment is similarly high, with 44% of people from the BAC identifying as “more Basque than Spanish” or “just Basque” according to data from the 83rd Basque Sociometer. These social characteristics make the BAC a good choice for a first study of the interaction between Basque names and identity, but a study focusing in other provinces would also yield interesting and meaningful results.

My usage of “Basque” throughout the study refers exclusively to results from the Basque Autonomous Community, and my results are only applicable to this area.

3.2. Basque Methodology

Each list of names is comprised of an average of 400 names. Next to the already existing rows of  Name, Total Amount, and Permillage, I added the rows Language, Gender, and Province. My main  task was to individually sort the names into either Basque or Other.

Figure 3.2.1: Example of a table for Basque female names in Gipuzkoain the 2000s


 

The main source for the linguistic distinction was the Euskaltzaindia’s (Academy for the Basque Language’s) Onomastics department, which gives source languages and etymologies of names used in the Basque Country. The Basque data consisted of over 22000 names which had to be individually sorted, therefore, it was not possible to indicate specific etymologies beyond “other”.

There were some special cases for which consistent guidelines were established. The first is compound names in which there is one element in Spanish and one in Basque. This mostly appears in female names in which a Basque name is preceded by the Spanish name María, such as María Begoña or María Aranzazu. Part of Franco-era onomastic policy was that at least part of a child’s name must come from the list of catholic Saints’ names (Gorrotxategi 2006: 322). As such, it became very common to insert the name María in front of non-Biblical names to render them acceptable to authorities. However, this name is often a formality and all but ignored in everyday life, with many bearers getting it removed from official records post-dictatorship. Albaigès (2014: 225) asserts that “Among women, María became so widespread that this name meant almost nothing, and the word María was interpreted as a simple equivalent of ‘woman’”. Therefore, these names have been counted as Basque.

Another guideline concerns Basque names which bear a significant similarity to a Spanish name. Especially amongst male names, we find a habit of translating names from other languages, namely Latin and Spanish names which have religious significance, into Basque. Thus, Joseph is Joseba, Michael is Mikel, John is Jon, and so forth. Following the methodology utilised by Gorrotxategi (2019: 283), these names are counted as Basque. There is another subset of names which are largely in another language with the spelling slightly altered to look or sound Basque: Luis becomes Luix, Carlos becomes Karlos, etc. These names can sometimes be socially understood to be “more Basque” in identity than their Spanish counterparts but these names are not in Basque but transliterations so, in accordance with Gorrotxategi’s methodology, they have not been counted.

Once classified, I noted the percentages of Basque names in each list per gender as well as total. I did this for each province and for the entire Basque Country. This allowed me to chart the diachronic evolution of Basque names per gender, per province, and in its totality.

Figure 3.2.2: Example of results table for the 1930s


 

3.3. Scottish data 

Gaelic names were treated as similarly as possible to allow for comparison. The Scottish data comes from  the National Records of Scotland, which has lists of every name given to children born in Scotland per year. Each list is separated per gender, and they span the years 1974-2019. They contain every name regardless of the number of bearers and I excluded those which have less than 5 bearers. 

Figure 3.3.1: Example of table for boys’ names in 2011. (Source: NRS)


 

3.4. Scottish methodology 

I sorted the names into two categories: Gaelic and Other. Within the category of Gaelic, I have combined names which are either Scottish Gaelic or Irish in origin. This is because both languages are closely related Celtic languages and as such many of the names are cognates, for example Ruaidhrí (Ireland) and Ruairidh (Scotland). Hence, the name stock is not reliably separable. Welsh has been excluded from my categorisation, although it is also a Celtic language, for two reasons. Firstly, because its name stock is more distinct from Scottish Gaelic as it falls within the Brittonic branch rather than the Goidelic. and secondly, because Welsh identity is culturally seen as being distinct from Scottish identity whereas Irish and Scottish identities have a certain historical relationship as a result of Irish immigration to Scotland (Dodds and Seawright 2014: 102).

I sorted the names according to the information in The Oxford Dictionary of First Names (Hanks et al. 2016), which gives an origin language for the names it lists. There are names which are almost only borne in Scotland, and which are widely seen as Scottish, namely personal names inspired by Scottish place names such as Iona or Kelvin, but whose origin is not in fact in any of the relevant languages. As such, they have not been counted. In keeping with my guidelines applied to Basque names, names in other languages which have had their spelling altered to seem “more Gaelic”, such as Sheilagh, have not been counted. Variant spellings of Irish or Scottish Gaelic names (such as Ailie for Eilidh) have largely been counted as long as they do not too closely resemble names in other languages (for example Katrina is technically an anglicization of Irish Catriona but could also be related to English Katherine according to Hanks et al. 2006). This has been decided on a case-by-case basis.

After sorting the names, I added the percentages and input them into a table which notes the number of Gaelic names per year, by gender as well as total.

Figure 3.4.1: Example of Scottish results table


 

Regrettably, there are two main differences between the Scottish and Basque data: the Scottish data is not separated by location, and it is more recent than Basque one. However, Scottish names being provided in yearly lists (rather than per decade) allows us to have a closer look at this short time period. 

4. Analysis 

In this section I present the diagrams which I have created based on my data and explain and analyse their evolution. I mention discussion points regarding the various patterns which will be explored in depth in the discussion section.

4.1. Basque names 

Figure 4.1.1: Total evolution of Basque names per decade in the Basque Country


 

Figure 4.1.1 shows the evolution of Basque names in all three provinces. It starts at a very low number: in the 1930s only 4.20% of people in the Basque Country bore Basque names, and there was some steady yet slow increase of this through the decades 1940-1960. After this gradual increase, the 1970s and 1980s saw the largest jumps, with numbers nearly doubling in each decade, and with more than half the population bearing Basque names in the 1990s. This increase slowed down slightly in the 2000s and Basque names reached their peak at 62.98%. Surprisingly, this upward trend stopped in the 2010s, when there was a slight decrease of Basque names.

Predictably, the evolution of Basque names seems to be related to linguistic policy and historical developments: the Franco-era policy banning Basque names, and the eventual softening of it explains many of the changes visible here. The effects of this can clearly be seen in the scant numbers of Basque names in the 1930-1959 era, the steady rising in 1960-1979, and finally the explosion and eventual majority of Basque names prior to 2010. The effect of Francoist onomastic policy and other significant historical events will be more thoroughly discussed in the discussion chapter.

Figure 4.1.2: Evolution of Basque names per decade in the BasqueCountry, separated by gender


 

In Figure 4.1.2, we can see that the evolution of Basque names, when separated by gender, follows a strikingly similar pattern to the total evolution: slow rising until the 1960s, followed by a meteoric rise until the 1990s, and again a slow increase finished with a decrease in the 2010s. There is a slight but meaningful difference between genders.

Until the 1990s, women bore more Basque names, with some male lists (such as Araba in the 1930s) not having any Basque name tokens. This tendency was suddenly reversed in the 1990s, when male babies started being given more Basque names, and this persisted until the 2010s. Subchapter 4.3 explains that this is because uniqueness is viewed as important when choosing girls’ names, as well as because name inheritance happens mostly with boys’ names.

Figure 4.1.3: Evolution of Basque names per decade, separated by province

We find the same pattern in the version of the data which is separated by province. The difference between provinces stays remarkably stable. Araba is consistently the province with the smallest rate of Basque names, beginning at 1.40% in the 1930s and peaking in the 2010s with 55.03%. Although Bizkaia initially had slightly higher rates of Basque names, it was quickly superseded by Gipuzkoa in the 1950s, and this province maintained its lead until the present day, with 71.28% of children being given Basque names in the 2010s.

Figure 4.1.4: Evolution of Basque names per decade in Gipuzkoa,Bizkaia, and Araba, separated by gender


 

The pattern in this diagram, as well as in the other Basque ones, is undeniably similar. The evolution of naming patterns is almost identical in all three provinces, both from a total and a gender perspective. This is meaningful as it might indicate Basque names evolving jointly and in a non-random fashion.

4.2. Scottish Gaelic and Irish names 

Figure 4.2.1: Total Scottish Gaelic and Irish names per year, 1974-2019


 

The evolution of Scottish Gaelic names in Scotland also has an analysable pattern, but it is less clear than the Basque data. The amount of Gaelic names in Scotland is significantly lower than that of Basque names, with the highest number being 19.25% in 2004. Beyond that, after a few irregularities in the 1970s Gaelic names rose very slowly in the years 1980-1994, when there was a sudden spike and upwards trend which lasted until roughly 2007, where Gaelic names declined again, experiencing a slight spike in 2015.

Figure 4.2.2 shows Gaelic name evolution per decade, making it comparable to the Basque data which is only available per decade, as well as for the evolution to be more clearly visible.

Figure 4.2.2: Total Gaelic names per decade, 1970s-2010s

Here we can more clearly see an evolution which slightly resembles the Basque data, with a slow increase which later becomes more pronounced until reaching a peak in the 2000s, followed by a decrease. Both sets of data are by no means identical, but the fact that both sets of names reach a peak in the 2000s and then decrease is a very interesting similarity in the naming patterns of two widely different cultures and languages. A possible cause for this might be a surge in immigration into both territories, bringing with it new names from other languages, as well as the advent of globalisation, which does much the same thing via mass media. These theories regarding the amplification of name stock will be further discussed in subchapter 4.5.

Figure 4.2.3: Total Gaelic names per year, separated by gender


 

In Figure 4.2.3, we can appreciate the main spikes or high points of Gaelic naming happening in 1995-2007, and once again, to a lesser degree, in 2015. This could potentially be linked to events taking place in those periods which reinforced Scottish nationalist sentiment, such as the devolution referendum and creation of a Scottish parliament in the 1995-2007 period or the independence referendum in 2015.

Further, this figure shows the stark difference between genders when it comes to Gaelic names. Male babies have relatively high numbers of Gaelic names, reaching a high point of 30.02% in 2003. Conversely, female names are much lower, with a maximum of 9.20% of female babies being given Gaelic names in 2006. The main reason for this is likely the level of acceptance into the larger anglophone name stock that Gaelic male names (such as Kevin or Ross) enjoy, which is not shared by female names, as well as other causes, expanded upon in subchapter 4.3. The patterns of both genders are very similar, though their numbers are not. This might be better appreciated in a decade-by-decade diagram.

Figure 4.2.4: Gaelic names per decade and gender


 

Except for the slight decrease which female Gaelic names experience in the 1980s, the pattern is remarkably similar, with both sets of names rising steadily, peaking in the 2000s, and then decreasing, in a manner identical to the total naming pattern. This could mean that, like Basque names, Gaelic names are not randomly chosen and that they do in fact follow a coherent pattern. The main difference between genders seems to be the amount of Gaelic names available, with women having significantly less.

5. Discussion 

For my discussion, I interpret the data according to three themes: the relationship of minority naming patterns to historical events, gendered patterns, and the effects of globalisation.

5.1. What is the effect of historical events on minority language naming patterns? 

The effect of historical events on minority language naming patterns and stock is well-recorded. In Turkey, Bulliet (1978: 491) records Muslim names rising when this identity is socially significant, meaning that it is something which happens across languages and cultures whenever an identity is felt to be threatened. Gorrotxategi (2006: 323-4) explains how the advent of Francoism in 1937 brought with it the de facto prohibition of Basque names being used to register newborns, and this was enshrined into the law a year later. The decree banning them states that Basque names are “a morbose exacerbation of regionalist sentiment”, “entail a meaning contrary to national unity” and “carry undeniable separatist significance”. This shows the long-standing controversy regarding Basque names - specifically, their role as signifiers of pro-Basque sentiment. In 1939, a new decree forced any person with a Basque name to change it to an accepted Spanish one. Consequently, the 1930s exhibit very low amounts of Basque names across provinces and genders.

The 1939 decree did, however, allow for Basque names referencing the Titles of Mary, always preceded by the name María, and always with Spanish spelling, such as María Aranzazu, María Begoña, or María Iciar. Names of this type are the bulk of Basque female names in the 1930s and 1940s. The 5 most popular Basque names in 1930s Gipuzkoa are María Aranzazu, Miren (the Basque version of María or Mary), María Iciar, Iciar and Aranzazu. However, there are also certain names from this period which disobey these laws by either not containing the element María, not being spelled according to Spanish rules, not being a title of Mary, or in some rare cases all three. These mostly appear in the 1930s and could be pre-1938 names which did not get changed, but some also appear in the 1940s: for example, there are 18 Amaias and 18 Amayas registered in Gipuzkoa in the 1940s - Amaia was coined by writer F. Navarro Villoslada for his novel Amaya o los vascos en el siglo VIII (Amaya or the Basques in the VIII Century). This is a case of a name which bypassed registry censorship, and its openly pro-Basque significance cannot be ignored.

Figure 5.1.1: Results for 1930 Basque Country, divided by gender and province


 

Later in the Francoist era, the onomastic policy was modified. In 1957 a new law allowed for Basque names with notable historic names lacking a Spanish translation, and always spelled according to Spanish rules. This change of law could be the driving force behind the significant rise in Basque names, with the percentage increasing from 9.02% in the 1950s to 12.79% in the 1960s. Amaia became the third most popular Basque female name in both Gipuzkoa and Araba in the 1960s, and the 21st and 23rd most popular overall respectively. Names such as Idoia and Maite follow closely: Idoia is a title of Mary popular in Nafarroa, but Maite is not a historical character, instead it comes from the word maitea, meaning loved. It is interesting that names such as Amaia and Maite, which both have an unmistakable connection to the Basque language and its literary history are so readily chosen whenever there is any opportunity for non-Spanish naming, and it points towards a relationship between Basque naming and identity.

A similar thing happens with male names. Although there is a tendency to name male babies after the Saints’ calendar long after the Francoist prohibition, we do see an emergence of names such  as Aitor and Eneko, both of which have strong ties to Basque identity: Aitor was popularised in the  same novel where Amaia was coined, and he is a mythical character from whom all Basques are  descended, with Aitorren semeak (‘Aitor’s children’ being sometimes used to refer to Basques and Aitorren hizkuntza (‘Aitor’s language’) for the Basque language. It is highly meaningful that this is the most popular Basque name for boys in Bizkaia and Gipuzkoa, and second most popular in Araba in  the 1960s.

A democracy-era law implemented in 1977 allowed naming children in any language of the Spanish state, which newly included Basque. Moreover, the end of the dictatorship brought with it large-scale social upheaval which introduced democracy, encouraged the teaching of Basque in schools, legalised Basque nationalist symbols, and saw a Basque nationalist party to power. The end of the dictatorship entailed both the legalisation of Basque names and a heightened relevance of Basque identity in society, which is reflected in onomastic choices, resulting in the rise in Basque names from 26.69% to 62,98% between the 1970s and 2000s.

The effect of historical events on Gaelic names is less clear but there are still trends which could be analysed through a historical perspective. Many Irish and Gaelic names are completely widespread through the anglophone world and have lost a sense of distinct Gaelic-ness. As such, the relationship between some of these names and Scottish identity is tenuous, and we should not see a rise in Gaelic names as directly translatable into a rise in Scottish identity. However, the parallel evolutions of Gaelic male and female names could point at there being a wider, perhaps subconscious, social understanding of these names as being part of a separate name stock.

Bort (2003: 156) outlines the “cultural renaissance” that Scottish identity underwent after the failure to achieve devolution in 1979, mainly through the emergence of Scottish artists who dealt with Scottish themes, as well as renewed academic interest in Scotland and its national identity. Gaelic was increasingly protected and promoted in the post-1970s period, with the establishment of the first Gaelic schools, Gaelic language television, and the Gaelic Development Agency (Oliver 2005: 2). This culminated in the achievement of devolution and the establishment of a Scottish Parliament in 1999. Furthermore, Oliver mentions how “Gaelic has been symbolically appropriated and politicised as a marker of the nation”, drawing a direct parallel between Scottish Gaelic and Scottish identity. It is therefore meaningful that Gaelic names should be on the rise in the 1995 - 2007 period (see Figure 4.2.1) when campaigning for devolution was in full swing. Interestingly, Bort points at the 1995 film Braveheart as both a marker of and catalyst behind this rise in Scottish identity, and the year 1995 in my data is succeeded by a significant rise in Gaelic names. This is not to say that Mel Gibson directly inspired Scottish parents to give their children Gaelic names, simply that this was an era replete with symbols of Scottish identity, which influenced onomastic choices.

A similar thing, albeit to a smaller scale, happens in the year 2016. After a period of descent for Gaelic names in 2007-2015, it is significant that the only remarkable increase happens directly after the 2014 independence referendum. This parallels the rise in Scottish identitarian sentiment which was felt around this time: 46% of people identified as Scottish not British in 2010, as opposed to 68% in 2014 (ScotCen Social Research 2014). The 2016 increase is small, and the percentage of babies being given Gaelic names is remarkably lower than the percentage of people identifying exclusively as Scottish, meaning that even though there is a correlation, Gaelic names are not close to being a definite marker of parental Scottish identity.

All in all, the usage of minority names is heavily impacted by historical developments concerning the national identities which the language is tied to. Although Francoist onomastic policy did have an obvious effect in shrinking the amount of official Basque names given to children, Basque parents still managed to utilise loopholes to give their children overtly pro-Basque anthroponyms. In Scotland, the effect of history on minority naming patterns is more subtle yet still visible: the height of Scottish sentiment in the late 20th and early 21st century coincides with the rise of Gaelic names, something which we see again briefly after the 2014 referendum.

5.2. How does gender affect minority language naming patterns? 

In figure 4.1.2 we can see that the Basque male and female name pattern evolutions are strikingly similar, rising and falling at the same times and at roughly the same rate. This could mean that Basque names evolve as a total name stock following unified and coherent patterns, and gender as a variable does not affect naming as much as other variables such as date of birth. Further, female babies in all three provinces are given more Basque names than men until the 1990s, where the roles are switched and boys are given more Basque names. The fact that this happens in the same way in all three provinces could mean that the evolution is not random.

Fernandez Juncal (2018: 93) finds that female names in a Basque village are “more affected by innovation and differentiation than those of the males”. Looking at my diagram, the same conclusion might be drawn, given that girls were given more Basque names in the years in which these names were less frequent and illegal. Male Basque names overtook female ones in the 90’s, once Basque naming was more entrenched in Basque culture. As such, it could be argued that girls’ names are the area for experimentation and variation, in line with Leibring’s (2016: 210) argument that “A larger name stock has been in use for girls than for boys (...) and the lifespan of popular girls’ names is often shorter than for boys’ names. Probably, this mirrors a traditionalistic view where boys have been regarded as more important for upholding the family name and hereditary first names in the family”. Meanwhile, boys’ names vary less and do so in less experimental, more socially acceptable ways.

Fernandez Juncal (2018: 89) also finds that male children are considerably more likely to bear inherited names, which could explain why male children are more likely to bear their father’s Spanish name. This trend, however, is quickly declining, with 47% of male babies having an inherited name in 1965-1980 but only 9% post-2000. This cessation in the name inheritance tradition for boys might be part of the reason why they started being given more Basque names post-1990. Another reason behind this change could be the modification of onomastic policy: as discussed previously, the 1939 law allowed for children to be named in Basque as long as they were named after the Titles of Mary, names which cannot be used for boys. Since the only Basque names which could be legally given out were female names, it explains why they would be more frequent, although this does not explain the trend continuing until the 1990s, well after that law ceased to have any effect.

Like Basque names, Gaelic names evolve in a unified manner. Female names (in their own small scale) rise and fall when male names do, especially in the 1994-2007 period. This could potentially mean that, just like Basque, Gaelic names exist within society as a distinct name stock with its own patterns.

Both genders have very distinct rates of Gaelic name percentages, and the difference between them stays consistent for 45 years. As we can see, men’s names are significantly higher, averaging at 20,61% and with peaks as high as 30,02% in 2003, whereas women’s names average at 5,91% and at times are as low as 3,66% in 1986. The top 10 of women’s names rarely has a Gaelic name featured in it, and if they do appear within the most popular names it tends to simply be one name and with a short-lived popularity such as Shannon, which was only in the top 10 for 4 years (1996- 1999) and was the only Gaelic name in that group. This is not true for male names, with names such as Calum, Kevin, Ross or Liam routinely entering the top ten, sometimes alongside other Gaelic names. This could in part be due to the assimilation of Gaelic male names especially into the wider name stock, but even names which are not popular in England, such as Finlay or Fraser, remain popular. Therefore, it could be argued that there is a societal association between Gaelic names and masculinity. Perhaps Gaelic culture and identity are seen to foster more masculine traits rather than feminine ones, or it is simply Gaelic names being seen as more fitting for boys than girls for aesthetic reasons.

In conclusion, the gendered variation of minority names is very different in the Basque Country, where women are largely the main bearers of Basque names, and Scotland, where men bear more Gaelic names than women. However, we find that in both cases, whilst the gendered evolutions are not always numerically similar, they are always parallel and analogous, which could mean that both sets of minority names evolve jointly and are therefore understood as a name stock of their own by the public. Further, men carrying on the familial tradition seemingly affects minority language names in both areas: in the Basque Country, it means that men bear Spanish names beyond the legal obligation to do so and in Scotland it means a higher number of Gaelic names for boys as a way of asserting a traditional and longstanding Scottish identity.

5.3. Has globalization affected minority language naming patterns? 

A similarity between both data sets is the decrease in minority language names around the year 2010 after a period of growth. In Scotland, 2007 marks the point of a downwards tendency in Gaelic names, save for the slight spike in 2016, whilst for Basque names we can identify a fall of nearly 8 points between the 2000s and the 2010s. Far from being a decrease in interest in Basque or Scottish names, languages, and culture, I point to a possible hypothesis: the expansion of name stock and decrease in minority nationalist sentiment due to globalisation and foreign immigration.

The amount of names (types) which are given to children has risen dramatically over the years in both the Basque Country and Scotland, widening the name stock exponentially. For instance, there were 368 names listed for girls in Bizkaia in the 1940s, but 672 names in the same region in 2010. Similarly, there were 428 individual girls’ names in Scotland in 1975 and this amount rose to 652 in 2015. This is a worldwide trend due to the rising interest in children’s names being unique and individual, but I hypothesise that it is also due to the insertion of “foreign” names (names in languages which were not previously common), into the name stock through either international immigration or the media.

The name lists from the 2010s from both territories reveal many names in languages such as Arabic, Chinese, or Polish. For example, 0.19% of boys born in Bizkaia in the 2010s were named Mohamed, whilst 0.08% of boys born in Scotland in 2015 were named Ibrahim.

Figure 5.3.1: Percentage of children born to a foreign national motherin the Basque Country (Eustat. Estadística de nacimientos, 2023)


 

The number of children born to a foreign national mother jumps from 1.91% in 1996 to a high of 28,54% in 2020. It is logical that names belonging to other cultures would be introduced in high amounts as well. Considering that the rates of children with foreign mothers were extremely low during the 90s and did not reach 10% until 2007, that would directly correlate to the high amounts of Basque names in these decades. The 2010s experienced higher numbers of immigration, which could alter enough to lower the amount of Basque names in the 2010s. This is in line with data from Luján-García (2015), who finds English names rising in Spain in the late 90s and early 2000s.

Figure 5.3.2: Percentage of non-UK born and non-British nationals inScotland (Vargas-Silva 2013)


 

A similar phenomenon happens in Scotland in roughly the same period. As the number of non-UK born and non-British nationals rises in the 2004-2012 period, the number of Gaelic names decreases, especially post-2007, which is the start of the slightly steeper rise in immigration in Figure 5.3.2. The decrease in Gaelic names and the increase in immigration are very small compared to the Basque Country, but it is still worth analysing, and a parallel between both situations can be drawn.

Another reason for the decrease in minority language names in the 21st century could be the influx of foreign names drawn from media and entertainment. For example, the relative popularity of the name Liam in Bizkaia in the 2010s, with 0.14% of boys bearing that name, could be due to the enormous popularity of UK boyband One Direction and its member Liam Payne. The name does not appear before the band’s height in popularity circa 2012, so the singer might be the reason for the name’s popularity. Similarly, the name Zayn, of Arabic origin, likely rose in popularity in Scotland in the 2010s due to fellow One Direction member Zayn Malik, given that it does not appear in records before the band’s creation in 2010. Caffarelli & Gerritzen (2002: 663-4) point out how the names chosen in different countries bear a rising degree of similarity, which Gerritzen (2008: 6) attributes in part to the internationalisation of naming due to the internet. We can see that minority language names, due to their precarious status in society as names against which there has often been cultural and institutional backlash, are especially vulnerable in the face of these changing trends.

It therefore seems likely that the decrease of Basque and Gaelic names in the 2000s and 2010s was largely due to onomastic trends favouring uniqueness, with globalisation through migration and media introducing a large amount of new names to fulfil this growing demand. Globalisation, however, could also be introducing new forms of national self-identification, with people identifying as belonging to their country of origin or viewing themselves as European or global citizens rather than primarily Basque or Scottish. Pieterse (1994: 179) claims that globalisation is a process of hybridisation, with “international institutions, transactional transactions, regional cooperation (...) expanding in impact and scope”. Further, Wang’s 2015 examination of 50 countries finds that residents of countries that are more globalised hold lower levels of attachment to both their national and local identities. As such, minority first names might still signify a certain amount of parental attachment to sub-national forms of identification, and the decrease in names could potentially indicate a lower number of people identifying primarily as Basque or Scottish.

In conclusion, the 21st century and especially the decade of the 2010s saw a decrease of minority language names both in the Basque Country and in Scotland because globalisation provoked a widening of the name stock which decreased minority name rates. This could mean that minority language names are more susceptible to change and disappearance due to globalisation because of their vulnerable status. It could also mean that people identify less as belonging to their minority culture and more as global citizens or other modes of self - identification, leading to a decrease in minority language names.

6. Conclusion 

In this study, I have tracked the evolution and patterns of names in Scottish Gaelic in Scotland and Basque in the Basque Country. I have done so by classifying and calculating the names given to newborns in the years 1930-2019 and charting their evolution. Both countries have comparable evolution, rising during the latter part of the 20th century and experiencing a downwards trend in the 2000s and 2010s.

Minority language names might be indicators of parental national identification with the minority culture, as they react to historical moments where this identity is endangered or otherwise relevant. In Scotland, Gaelic names rose slightly in the “Scottish Renaissance” and the independence referendum. In the Basque country, the names that manage to avoid censorship are pro-Basque in meaning, and the rate of Basque names more than doubled in the post-Francoist period.

The joint evolution of names in both genders (in both Basque and Gaelic names) could indicate minority language name stocks having predictable, non-random patterns which are separate from the majority language onomasticon. Further, a close analysis at the gendered patterns in both countries reveals that women bear most Basque names until the point where they are well-established in society, whereas it is overwhelmingly men who bear Gaelic names. This is congruent with findings that find that uniqueness is valued in girls’ names, whereas tradition and name inheritance is emphasised in boys’ names. It could also point towards gender roles and expectations being different in Scottish and Basque culture.

Globalisation in the 21st century brings about a world-wide trend of onomastic internationalisation, leading to lower rates of Basque and Gaelic names. Minority language names seem especially vulnerable to onomastic decline due to their vulnerability. Globalisation also leads to changes in European forms of national self-identification; this could be another cause of the decline of Basque and Gaelic names.

7. Limitations and further research 

Quantitative analysis of minority language names can help us create hypotheses about onomastics, and beyond, about the place which languages occupy in society. As opposed to qualitative analysis, it can do so in large areas and over long time periods. However, baby naming is a deeply individual process where many factors (personal preference, familial traditions, trends, etc) come into play, we must not view quantitative analysis of minority baby names as an objective tool to track evolutions in identity or to assert any definitive conclusions. Rather, it is a complex and limited resource which can point us to new directions for research which consolidates the hypotheses put forward by quantitative research.

Secondly, the sources are records of the official names given to children in the Basque Country and Scotland. Names in minority languages, due to their persecuted or socially overlooked status, are frequently borne on an unofficial basis whilst utilising the name’s majority counterpart as an official name. In Scotland, Bramwell (2016a: 54) explains how this tradition is enduring amongst communities in the West Highland isles: it is common for someone to have an official English name utilised in formal context and an everyday Gaelic equivalent (Catriona for Catherine, Dòmhall for Donald, etc), which she describes as being the result of “the imposition of English language” in “educational contexts and government records”. Similarly, Basque people throughout the 20th and 21st century have utilised Basque names for everyday life whilst officially bearing Spanish names. This so common the post-Dictatorship linguistic policy had a particular clause facilitating the translation of Spanish names into their Basque equivalent. This situation of onomastic diglossia, and the fact that it appears in both of my research locations, is proof that systemic oppression against minority languages, traditions, and identities blatantly affects naming traditions and name stock. It also means that the data presented here does not accurately reflect the daily onomastic reality of these territories.

Finally, this study is limited in that it cannot confidently assert the reasons behind naming - it can only track trends and create hypotheses based on them. A qualitative study which analyses the associations that people of varying ages, genders, and linguistic abilities have to minority language names would provide more definite information into people’s reasons behind choosing minority language names. This could be done by interviewing people of different genders, ages, and linguistic abilities, and asking them about their opinions on various names, their reasons behind naming children in minority or majority languages, their perception of the political identity of name bearers, etc.

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[1] The author is grateful to Prof. Carole Hough for her supervision of an early version of this article, and to the two anonymous reviewers whose extensive input greatly improved this text.