Names and nomenclature: The choices we make

Although he will deny it, during our first in-person date after writing letters to each other for six months [real paper, actual stamps], he declared that he thought the name Avigail would be lovely for a baby girl.

‘Abigail…’ I spluttered, less because I was bothered by his long-term planning but more because of the name association. No child of mine was ever going to be called Abigail. Australian TV, 1970s, No.96. Look it up. And if you know, you know.

‘Abigail…but why?’

‘Because the Tanach says she was intelligent and beautiful,’ he replied as if it was the most obvious explanation.

‘Mmm…well, there is no way any kid of mine is going to be called Abigail,’ I retorted. He looked puzzled. How could he understand? He had spent my best television years holed up in yeshiva.

And so it came to pass that our eldest daughter is named Avigayil – with my stipulation that we use this spelling to ensure Hebrew pronunciation while living in England. She is, as her name means, her ‘father’s joy,’ and I smiled wistfully at the news that Avigayil topped the 2024 list of most popular girls’ names in Israel.

My name, Sally Anna, was very common as I was growing up and predictably, my Hebrew name is Sarah Chana. Unsurprisingly, I am named after two of Hitler’s victims: my paternal grandmother and maternal aunt. Everyone around me bore the names of the shadows accompanying their parents. It was only as an adult that I met Sephardim who honored their elders by giving their children the names of their living grandparents. We bestowed-cum-burdened our Avigayil with two old fashioned Hebrew middle names – more dead relatives unfortunately – and a double-barreled surname. Her passport name page is pretty impressive; she thinks it’s ridiculous.

In a midrash, R. Meir suggests that

a man is known by three names: the name by which his father and mother call him, the name by which other men call him, and the one he earns for himself; the most important name is the one he earns for himself.

Giving your child a Hebrew name, without an English ‘back-up’ is surely a vote of confidence in the tolerance, respect and diversity of the society one is living in. Just as Mohammad was cited as the most popular boys name in Israel this year, it was also the most popular name in the UK for 2024 and has been in the UK’s top 10 names since 2016 according to the UK Office for National Statistics. Names can also be the harbingers of demographic trends.

In America, Abigail has been consistently popular, often appearing in the top 10 names for girls from 2001 to 2017 and it peaked at number 4 in 2005. I’d hazard a guess that First Lady Abbey Bartlet who appeared in the West Wing from 1999 to 2006 made the name popular. With more aspirational intent, Pauline Esther Friedman, the daughter of Russian Jewish immigrants was inspired by the intelligence of the Biblical Avigayil to create Abigail Van Buren, the pen name behind her ‘Dear Abby’ advice column. Established in 1956, her column had a readership of 150 to 200 million people and according to her entry in the Jewish Women’s Archive,

Openly revealing her opinions concerning antisemitism, sexism, and racism while responding to her readers’ diverse queries, Dear Abby actively championed Jewish and non-Jewish women’s rights both in the United States and internationally.

Choosing a name is a weighty responsibility and it doesn’t always happen at birth. Those converting to Judaism choose a Hebrew name; some opt for a traditional Biblical name, many look for a name that ‘matches’ their birthname while others look for a name reflecting an aspect of Judaism they appreciate. Many who become religious later in life want to use the Hebrew name they were given as a baby, or if they weren’t actually given a Hebrew name, it’s an opportunity to choose one. Barbara is now Batsheva and Mark morphs into Menachem.

The reverse also happens – those leaving the Haredi community of their childhood [especially outside Israel] may want to change their name because they imagine this will help them to ‘fit in’ so Velvel becomes Victor and Chaya Rochel is rebranded as Charlotte. Some performing Jews have a mononymous moniker for the stage — think Pink — while the history of Jews changing their surnames is a whole separate phenomenon. Gender is also a consideration for parents determined to map out a career trajectory for their daughters — the Portia Hypothesis suggests that women with sexually ambiguous names tend to be more successful as lawyers. This may not work in Israel though as Hebrew names are increasingly unisex — Noam, Yuval, Shaked, Bar, Tal, Yona are popular examples — hopefully creating a level playing field when it comes to making name-based assumptions before meeting someone in-person.

Since October 7^th, we have learnt the names of the kidnapped, the fallen soldiers, the injured and many of those who rescued people running away from the Nova site or hiding in their kibbutz safe rooms. Who can forget 3-year-old Avigail Idan? Her parents were killed on Kibbutz Aza and she was kidnapped by Hamas and taken to Gaza. Thankfully she was released and now lives with close family. I am reminded of Zelda’s famous poem, Each of Us Has a Name, published in 1974. The final line is a punch in the stomach:

Everyone has a name / given to him by the sea /and given to him by his death.

These are tragic days and we are obligated to name each young life in death and to repeat each name of those in captivity. The land of death is being reborn as babies are named Be’eri and Oz after the ravaged kibbutzim. A new generation of names will comfort us, and at the end of 2025, one assumes that Avigayil and Mohammad will both be knocked off their top-place perch.

Instead, these emerging names born of loss, survival and hope will prove most popular and their shadows will guide us towards the future.