Reader Question: What's with the term "Oriental"?
AAPI Heritage Month 2025
In response to last week’s post, “Who is Asian?”, reader Jessica Kuhn asked a follow-up question about terminology, specifically about the use of the older term “Oriental” for people of Asian descent. I never miss an opportunity to dive into the history of the English language, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to briefly discuss the origins of “Oriental” and some of the controversies over its usage today.
East of where?
The word “oriental” comes from the Latin word orior, which to means “to rise.” The sun rises in the east and so lands east of Latin-speaking peoples were designated as the Orient. Just like “Asia” originally referred to modern day Turkey, the Orient originally described the Near East (Syria, Lebanon et al). This use of the term explains why Edward Said wrote a book called “Orientalism” and that European experts on Islam used to be called “Orientalists.” However, as the European colonial project expanded from the Near East to the Far East, the term came to have close associations with China and Japan.1
The use of the term in the United States echoes the later stages of that colonial history, and the term almost exclusively refers to things from East Asia, especially those of a pan-Asian origin. Prior to the 1980s, it was also the generic term used for people of East Asian descent and like many English racial terms, it carried condescending, and often derogatory, connotations. An Oriental was, of course, a foreigner.
The Rise of Asian American
Oriental started to fade out of use in response to concerted political activism in the 1960s. In conscious imitation of African and Native American political organizing, people of Asian descent (primarily of Chinese and Japanese heritage) coined the term “Asian American” and insisted on it as the preferred term in public discourse. What has often been forgotten about this effort is that these activists leaned more heavily on the second half of the term than the first. The point for these activists was that they were Americans, not Oriental foreigners. As a by-product of this emphasis, they employed Asian in an expansive and non-specific sense, hoping to include as many people as possible in the term.
The Downsides of Asian American
When considering the term “Asian American” it’s also important to keep in mind that it was coined at an unusal time in US history. The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, along with the National Origin Acts of 1921 and 1924, meant that immigration to the United States from East Asia was very limited during the 20th century. The 1960s represent an unusual time when American born Asians outnumbered foreign born Asians. Those folks wanted, and had every right, to demand that they be treated as Americans, full stop. But for those of us whose families came to the United States in the waves of refugees from Indochina in the 1970s and 80s, both sides of the term Asian American can be a bit of an awkward fit. With regard to the latter half, even those of us born in the US often recognize that we are culturally different from “Americans.” Unlike our political Asian American ancestors, we can feel a greater connection to our countries of origin than to our country of birth. The “American” in Asian American can feel uncomfortably assimilationist. With regard to the first half of the term, the use of Asian sometimes feels like a necessary evil. Yes, we acknowledge and celebrate our shared cultural connections with people from all over Asia, but it can also feel like a capitulation to America’s refusal to accept our diversity. Why do we have to be Asian instead of Hmong or Cambodian or Karen?
So don’t use Oriental, right?
I do want to emphasize that for all its difficulties, I am proud to describe myself as Asian. I am far less gung ho2 about Asian American than some of my older coethnics, but I’m willing to use it as a show of solidarity. Oriental as a word to describe people has faded from use, though not without conflict between different generations of Asian Americans.3 In a pattern that has often repeated itself with terms originally intended as derogatory, Asian Americans will sometimes use the word Oriental to ironically describe themselves. When I use the term, in conscious distinction to Asian, I mean Oriental to convey that I have origins in East Asia and that I cannot escape the Western colonial gaze. As short hand advice, I would not recommend using Oriental to describe a person of Asian descent. But I would also not correct an Asian American who chose to use the word for themself.
For further reading on the history of “Oriental,” check out “What Does Oriental Mean?” on Who Built Bryn Mawr?
As an interesting side note, once east Asia became the “Orient,” English borrowed the French word levant which also means “rising” to label the Near East. However, as far as I can tell, nobody refers to themselves as a Levantilist, nor do we worry about Levantilism.
gung ho, adjective, ˈgəŋ-ˈhō: extremely enthusiastic
Etymology: Gung ho! motto (thought to mean "work together") of a U.S. Marine battalion in World War II, from the Chinese (Beijing dialect) phrase Zhōngguó Gōngyè Hézuò Shè "Chinese Industrial Cooperative Society"
Word Origin: Since the war was not going well for the U.S. in 1942, Marine Lt. Col. Evans F. Carlson needed something special to make his troops feel hopeful and excited. He was organizing the Marines' Second Raider Battalion in California and told his men their motto would be gung ho. This, he told them, was Chinese for "work together." Since there was a Chinese Industrial Cooperative Society known as Gōnghé and since gōng does mean "work," and hé does mean "join," what he said seemed to make sense. But gōng and hé cannot be put together in Chinese to mean "work together." The organization known as Gōnghé was, in full, Zhōngguó Gōngyè Hézuò Shè. The Chinese themselves shortened it to Gōnghé just as we abbreviate long names and titles in English. But in English gung ho stuck as a motto and went on to become an adjective meaning "extremely enthusiastic."
For a poignant reflection on this conflict, I recommend NPR reporter Kat Chow’s 2016 interview on All Things Considered.