Introduction

Color terminology is a fundamental component of language and thought, mediating between visual perception and cultural experience. The study of color terms has long been a focal point in linguistic anthropology            and cognitive linguistics, notably since Berlin and Kay’s seminal work Basic Color Terms: Their Universality and Evolution (1969). One striking finding is that languages tend to develop              color vocabulary in a common sequence: if a language has only three basic color terms, they denote black, white, and red; with additional terms, green or yellow emerges next, then blue, and so forth. Languages like English, which            have a full palette of basic color names, and Uzbek, a Turkic language with rich cultural influences, both exemplify this universal             pattern while also reflecting unique historical paths.

This article provides a narrative comparative analysis of how English and Uzbek color vocabularies evolved over time (diachronic development), and how cultural and anthropological factors have shaped the semantics of color in each language. We examine etymology and historical shifts in meaning – for example, how English orange arose from a fruit name, or how Uzbek binafsha (purple) was borrowed from Persian. We also explore linguistic structures like metaphor and idiom: both languages use color terms figuratively to express emotions and social meanings (e.g., seeing red in anger, or Uzbek qora kun “black day” for tragedy). By drawing on research from both Western and Uzbek scholars – including works published in Uzbekistan’s Lingvospektr journal – we aim to illuminate the interplay between color, language, and culture in these two linguistic traditions.

Diachronic Evolution of Color Terms in English

English color terminology has expanded over many centuries, absorbing influences from various languages and cultures. Old English (spoken until the 12th century) had a limited set of basic color words, largely inherited from Proto-Germanic. Terms for white (hwīt in Old English) and black (blæc or sweart) are ancient and derive from Proto-Indo-European roots meaning “bright, shining” and “burned” respectively. The word red (rēad in Old English) likewise comes from a deep Proto-Indo-European root (reudh-), which is why cognates like German rot and French rouge sound           similar. Words for yellow (geolu in Old English) and green (grēne) also date back to Proto-Indo-European origins associated with shining light (ghel-) and growing plants, respectively.                     By the medieval period, English had at least            six basic color terms (black, white, red, yellow, green, and blue) – a stage consistent with Berlin & Kay’s hierarchy. Notably, the term blue in English was a relative latecomer; Old English used words like hǣwen or descriptive phrases, and after the Norman Conquest the French           word bleu (Modern English blue) entered common usage. The delayed prominence of blue is reflected in historical texts – famously,      Homer’s ancient Greek described the sea as “wine-dark” rather than naming it blue, hinting at how some cultures lacked a distinct term for         that hue.

As English absorbed influences and expanded its lexicon, new color terms emerged. The word brown comes from Old English brún, originally meaning a dark or dusky hue (sometimes overlapping with red or black). In Middle English, additional terms were adopted       or coined to cover gaps in the spectrum. Orange is a classic example: English speakers had no single word for the color orange until the fruit orange was imported and its name (from Sanskrit nāraṅga via Persian/Arabic and French) was applied to the color in the 16th century. Before that, people described orange things as “yellow-red” (geoluhread in Old English). Similarly,         purple comes from Latin purpura (Greek porphura), the dye obtained from shellfish in antiquity; the term entered Old English as purpul, referring originally to the royal purples worn by nobility. Grey (Old English grǣg) remained a stable term through the ages, while pink and violet were later additions: violet was borrowed from French (ultimately Latin viola, the violet flower), and pink was adopted in the 17th century from the name of a flower (the pinks of the genus Dianthus). The etymological patchwork of English color terms – Germanic roots for basic hues and French/Latin borrowings for others – reflects the layered history of English. By the modern era, English has eleven basic color terms (black, white, red, green, yellow, blue, brown, orange, pink, purple, gray), each with a distinct lexical status and rich set of shades and derivatives. This full set places English in the highest stage (Stage VII) of color terminology complexity.

Diachronic Evolution of Color Terms in Uzbek

The Uzbek language, belonging to the Turkic family, inherited a core set of color terms from Proto-Turkic and subsequently incorporated new terms through cultural contact. Early Turkic languages had basic color words paralleling many universal categories: e.g., oq (white), qora (black), qizil (red), sariq (yellow), yaşil (green), and ko‘k (blue). These native Uzbek terms remain the primary words for basic colors today and show Turkic roots – for instance, oq and qora correspond to Old Turkic ak and qara, and qizil (red) is found across Turkic languages. Historically, Uzbek was heavily influenced by Persian and Arabic during the medieval period (Chagatai literature era), which enriched its color vocabulary. Classical literature often featured Persian color words alongside Turkic ones: for example, surx (from Persian surkh, red) and sabz (Persian for green) appeared in poetic contexts, and the Arabic loan siyoh was sometimes used for black. One striking case is the term axzar (from Arabic akhḍar, green) noted in older Uzbek texts, illustrating how multilingual heritage contributed synonyms or nuanced alternatives for basic colors. Over time, however, the everyday Uzbek lexicon favored the Turkic set (oq, qora, qizil, etc.), while Persian/Arabic variants became markers of poetic or formal style.

In the 19th–20th centuries, Russian influence (during the Tsarist and Soviet periods) introduced additional color terms and concepts. Some Russian color words entered colloquial Uzbek, especially in urban settings or technical contexts – for instance, rozoviy (from Russian rozovyi, pink) came into use alongside the existing term pushti. (Pushti, meaning pink, itself was borrowed from Persian). Likewise, the Russian fioletoviy (violet/purple) was known, though Uzbek had binafsha from Persian banafsha (violet flower) for purple. In modern Uzbek, the basic color inventory has expanded to cover eleven categories, analogous to English. A recent study identifies 11 basic color terms in Uzbek: oq (white), qora (black), qizil (red), yashil (green), sariq (yellow), ko‘k (blue), jigarrang (brown), binafsha (purple), pushti (pink), kulrang (gray), and to‘q sariq (orange). Notably, some of these are compound or derived forms: jigarrang literally means “liver-color” (jigar = liver, rang = color) referring to brown, kulrang means “ash-color” for gray, and to‘q sariq means “dark yellow” for orange. The inclusion of such terms indicates that Uzbek has reached the same Stage VII of color terminology as English, even if a few terms are structurally two words. Indeed, Uzbek linguists confirm that Uzbek now possesses a full spectrum of basic color lexemes, aligning with the universal developmental sequence. This development was fueled by both internal word-formation (e.g., qizg‘ish for “reddish” from qizil) and external borrowing (e.g., binafsha from Persian, kulrang partly from Russian “kul” for ash). Through centuries of contact with Persian, Arabic, and Russian cultures, Uzbek’s color vocabulary grew from a Turkic core to a richly layered system. Each addition carried new semantic nuances, reflecting historical shifts in trade (introducing new dyes and pigments), technology, and cultural life in Central Asia.

Cultural and Anthropological Dimensions of Color Semantics

Color terms in both English and Uzbek are deeply embedded in cultural context and carry significance far beyond mere description of visual hues. Cultural values, traditions, and even religious beliefs influence how colors are perceived and what they symbolize in each society. In English (broadly reflecting Western culture), white is associated with purity and innocence (brides wear white dresses to symbolize virginity or new beginnings), while black often signifies death, mourning, or evil (e.g., the custom of wearing black to funerals, the metaphor “black magic” for dark sorcery). Red can denote both positive and negative concepts: it often stands for passion, love, or courage (red roses, hearts, “red-blooded”), but also danger and alarm (red flags, stop lights, “code red”). Green in English has strong ties to nature and freshness (environmentalism is symbolized by green), yet it also embodies envy and inexperience (“green with envy,” “a greenhorn”). Blue in Western symbolism tends to represent calm and sadness (the idiom “feeling blue” for melancholy), and purple historically signifies royalty and luxury (due to the rarity of purple dye). These associations demonstrate how English color vocabulary is intertwined with centuries of cultural connotation and metaphor.

Uzbek culture, while having some universal overlaps (white for purity, black for sorrow), showcases its own distinctive color symbolism shaped by local tradition and Islamic heritage. Ethnolinguistic studies by Uzbek scholars (including contributors to Lingvospektr) highlight that in Uzbek: oq (white) symbolizes purity, goodness and new beginnings, and it is prominently featured in rites of passage – for example, Uzbek brides traditionally wear white, and offering someone oq yo‘l (“white road”) is a way to wish them a blessed, fortunate journey. Qora (black) is associated with mourning, misfortune and evil; people wear black at funerals, and phrases like qora kun (“black day”) signify tragic times. Qizil (red) in Uzbek denotes vitality and life but also danger and urgency; it appears in the national flag’s design and traditional textiles as a vibrant life-affirming color, yet a warning sign might be called qizil signal just as a red light means stop. Yashil (green) carries strong sacred meaning due to Islam – green is considered the color of Islam and paradise, representing prosperity and nature’s abundance. This is evident in the Uzbek phrase yashil bayroq (green flag) symbolizing Islamic identity, and the reverence for green in artistic motifs. Sariq (yellow) is linked to sunlight, gold, and the harvest; in Uzbek folklore yellow fields of wheat symbolize wealth and plenty. One Uzbek idiom says someone’s face “turned yellow” (yuzi sariq bo‘ldi) to indicate illness, much as in English a “yellow” complexion indicates sickness – a likely universal physiological association.

Anthropologically, these color meanings are influenced by each culture’s environment and history. Uzbekistan’s agrarian life and bright natural dyes (e.g., from flowers, plants) meant that colors like green and yellow were readily appreciated and named with positive connotations (green for fertile land, yellow for ripe grains). The prevalence of blue in textiles depended on trade (lapis lazuli and indigo dye were prized – the word ko‘k also means “sky” and by extension “blue”). In contrast, English-speaking cultures in Northern Europe had abundant green landscapes (hence a clear word for green early on) but encountered vibrant orange dyes later, which explains why orange as a concept arrived late via trade. Religious and political history also play a role: English use of orange vs. green carries historical resonance in contexts like Irish history (Orange Order vs. Irish green), while in Uzbek, red carried Soviet ideological meanings in the 20th century (the word qizil was associated with the Red Army or communism). Even so, many color meanings are shared cross-culturally or have analogues – an insight supported by comparative linguistics research. For instance, as Djalilova and Khamidova (2025) observe, Uzbek color idioms encapsulate social status and emotions much like English ones do. Both languages ultimately use color as a social and psychological language, encoding worldview into color terms (a concept sometimes called the “color picture of the world” in linguistic studies).

Metaphor, Etymology, and Functional Use of Color Terms

Color terms are highly productive in metaphorical expressions and idioms, allowing speakers to convey abstract ideas vividly. In English, everyday speech abounds with such metaphors: to see red means to become very angry, to feel blue means to be sad, and green with envy denotes jealousy. A person can be green (inexperienced), tell a white lie (harmless lie), or have a black heart (evil nature). These expressions illustrate how English uses color lexicon to map human emotions and moral qualities onto the color spectrum. Many of these metaphors draw on intuitive cultural associations (e.g., red with the heat of anger or danger, green with naiveté or the sickly look of jealousy, white with innocence). Over time, some color terms even shifted meaning through metaphorical extension—gray can describe an unremarkable personality or moral ambiguity (a “gray area”), and blue can signify obscenity (as in “blue joke”) in certain contexts due to an old association of blue with ribald content. The flexibility of color words in discourse makes them tools for rich imagery and nuance.

Uzbek also employs color metaphors extensively, reflecting its own cultural context. We have mentioned oq ko‘ngil, literally “white heart,” which is an Uzbek way to describe someone as pure-hearted or kind. Here, white aligns with goodness and sincerity, much as in English. Another common phrase is yurakda qora tun, “a black night in the heart,” used to describe deep sorrow or grief. The darkness of night (qora tun) inside one’s heart poignantly conveys despair. Qora niyat (“black intention”) means evil intent, while oq yo‘l (“white road”) is a warm send-off wish, meaning “may your journey be blessed”. Interestingly, yashil (green) in Uzbek can imply youth or rawness – for example, a phrase like “yashil edi” might be used to say someone was green (young and inexperienced), which parallels the English metaphor of a “green” newbie. In Uzbek proverbs and folk expressions, colors also link to social status and moral lessons: a qora kiyim (black clothing) may symbolize humility or mourning depending on context, and oq rizq (“white sustenance”) can imply honest livelihood. Uzbek linguists have documented more than ten semantic types of color terms in Uzbek, each category carrying special features and connotations in phraseology. For example, Djalilova & Khamidova (2025) analyze how white, black, red, green, and blue appear in Uzbek idioms to represent everything from emotional states to religious symbols. Their study underlines that color semantics in Uzbek phraseology is key to understanding the national mentality and cultural traditions.

Etymology provides additional insight into how metaphor and meaning are intertwined. In Uzbek, many secondary color terms are transparently compound words that reveal a metaphor or comparison: we noted jigarrang (brown) literally means “liver-colored,” likening the color to that of liver tissue. This metaphorical naming is similar to how English uses liver chestnut to describe a horse color, or how English “orange” came from the fruit – naming a color by a typical object of that color. Another Uzbek example is olovrang (“fire-colored”) to mean bright orange-red, or qumrang (“ash color”) as a variant of kulrang for gray – these illustrate a tendency to define colors by elements of nature. English too has older compounds like sky-blue, rose-red, ash-gray, though many have become standard single words or fallen out of use as independent terms. Moreover, Uzbek employs reduplication and affixation for nuanced shades: e.g., qizg‘ish (reddish, somewhat red) is formed from qizil + suffix, and ko‘m-ko‘k means a deep/intense blue (doubling ko‘k). English parallels this with the “-ish” suffix (reddish, greenish) and phrases like “deep blue,” but Uzbek’s morphological productivity is notably high in everyday color expression.

Functionally, color terms in discourse serve to classify and to evoke. In both languages, they are basic adjectives for visual description (“blue sky,” “oq uy” for “white house”), but their extended uses enrich storytelling, poetry, journalism, and other discourse. For instance, an Uzbek storyteller might describe a villain as having a “qora yurak” (black heart) to immediately convey evil nature without further explanation, relying on shared cultural understanding of the color symbolism. In English, calling something a “gray area” in an academic paper succinctly signals an unresolved ambiguity. Color terms also often carry emotional weight in literature and media: English authors famously use “green light” in The Great Gatsby as a symbol of hope, while Uzbek poets might use qizil gul (red flower) to symbolize youthful love or beauty. In everyday interactions, color words can function indexically – e.g. “red alert” signals urgency in English, and yashil chiroq (“green light”) is understood in Uzbek (often due to international traffic light norms) as permission to go. Through idioms, proverbs, and set phrases, color vocabulary becomes a vehicle for cultural values. As one linguist notes, studying color terms offers a “key element reflecting the mentality” of a people, since each metaphor or customary usage encapsulates a piece of collective experience. In short, beyond their primary role of naming hues, color words in English and Uzbek operate in multiple semantic fields – descriptive, emotive, symbolic – thereby playing functional roles in communication that reflect both universal human cognition and culturally specific worldviews.

Conclusion

The evolution of color perception vocabulary in English and Uzbek reveals a fascinating interplay of universal patterns and unique cultural trajectories. Both languages progressed through similar stages in acquiring basic color terms, confirming the broader theory that human languages tend to develop color names in a common order. English and Uzbek each now possess eleven basic color terms, covering the same spectrum of black, white, red, green, yellow, blue, brown, orange, pink, purple, and gray. This completion of the color spectrum in their lexicons reflects parallel responses to human communicative needs: as societies encounter new colors in their material or cultural environment (through technological dyes, new objects, or intercultural contact), their languages find ways to name them.

Yet, the journey to this outcome was shaped by distinct historical forces. English, as a Germanic language deeply influenced by Norman French and global exploration, drew color terms from multiple sources – from ancient Proto-Indo-European roots (white, black, red, green, yellow) to medieval French loans (blue, brown) and early modern imports (orange, pink, violet from fruits and flowers). Uzbek, as a Turkic tongue at the crossroads of the Silk Road, incorporated Persian and Arabic color terms into its literary register and later assimilated Russian contributions, all the while preserving its Turkic core. The result is that each language’s color vocabulary is a palimpsest of its history: one can read trade, migration, and cultural exchange in the very names of colors (be it the Sanskrit trail of orange or the Persian origin of binafsha).

Culturally, color terms have become repositories of meaning beyond the visual spectrum. English and Uzbek speakers alike imbue colors with symbolic and emotional significance rooted in their respective traditions. These associations surface in metaphors and idioms that, when compared, provide insights into both shared human experiences and culture-specific values. For example, both languages link white to purity and black to negative forces, suggesting a common cognitive metaphor of light vs. darkness; however, Uzbek’s link of green to sacred Islam or English’s use of blue for sadness highlight particular cultural histories and artistic conventions. Such differences underscore the anthropological truth that language and culture co-evolve: the semantic realm of color is as much a cultural construct as it is a reflection of optical reality.

In examining metaphors and discourse functions, we see that color terms help structure narratives and convey connotations efficiently. Uzbek folk expressions with color, as documented by local scholars, encapsulate community morals and social norms in a vivid way. English, with its global usage, has exported many of its color idioms into international contexts (e.g., “black market,” “green energy”), showing how deeply entrenched these terms are in expressing complex ideas. Both languages demonstrate that as basic as color words might appear, their semantic evolution involves continuous layering of new meanings through metaphor, borrowing, and adaptation to social change. Modern influences – globalization, media, technology – continue to introduce nuances (for instance, English speakers now casually speak of “RGB” values, and Uzbek youth might use a Russian or English color term for a novel shade in fashion).

In conclusion, the color vocabularies of English and Uzbek exemplify the dynamic nature of language: grounded in universal human perception, yet diversified by history, culture,        and cognition. By studying their semantic evolution side by side, we not only trace how people name the colors of the rainbow, but also gain a spectrum of insights into how people describe and make sense of their world. The words for color, it turns out, are a prism through which linguists and anthropologists can observe the refracted light of culture, thought, and history in language. Future research may build on this comparative approach – for instance, by looking at how bilingualism (English-Uzbek speakers) navigates color concepts, or how emerging cultural trends (such as global design or the digital age) might further enrich or shift the color terminology in both tongues.                  Such inquiries will continue to highlight the significance of color semantics as a vibrant field at the intersection of language, mind, and culture.