Broken Plurals: Why Arabic Rejects Suffixes

In English, turning one thing into many is usually a trivial affair. If you have a cat, and you acquire another, you simply tack an “s” onto the end to get cats. You have a computer; you add an “s” to get computers. It is a linear, predictable process known as concatenative morphology. You are essentially gluing a tail onto a semantic animal.

But Arabic operates on a completely different, almost mathematical frequency. If you want to turn a kitab (book) into a plural, you cannot simply add a suffix. You have to take a hammer to the word, shatter it, and reassemble the pieces with a new internal architecture. The result is kutub.

Welcome to the fascinating, sometimes maddening, but undeniably beautiful world of broken plurals (Jam’ al-Taksir). This feature is a hallmark of Semitic languages and represents one of the most drastic differences between English and Arabic linguistics.

The Method to the Madness: Non-Concatenative Morphology

To understand why Arabic breaks its words, we have to look at the engine regarding how the language is built. English is a “concatenative” language. This comes from the Latin catena (chain). We create meaning by linking chains together linearly: Un-predict-able-ly.

Arabic, by contrast, relies on non-concatenative morphology, often referred to as the “root and pattern” system. In this system, words are not chains; they are equations.

Almost every definition in Arabic is built upon a “root” (jidhr) consisting of three consonants. These consonants carry the base meaning, the DNA of the concept. For example, the root K-T-B carries the essence of “writing.”

• Kitab (Book)
• Katib (Writer)
• Maktab (Office/Desk)

The consonants (the root) form the skeleton. The vowels (and occasionally extra consonants) are the flesh that determines the shape and function of the word. When Arabic creates a plural, it doesn’t just dress the skeleton in a new coat (a suffix); it rearranges the flesh entirely.

Breaking the Word: How It Works

The term “Broken Plural” is a literal translation of the Arabic grammar term Jam’ al-Taksir. Taksir means “cracking” or “shattering.” The imagery suggests that the singular noun is a vessel that must be broken to allow the plural meaning to emerge.

Let’s look at the internal vowel shifts in action. While English preserves the stem (book remains book even in books), Arabic alters the stem:

1. The Vowel Shift

Consider the word for “Heart”, which is Qalb. To make this plural, we don’t say Qalbs. We shift the vowels to a pattern that emphasizes depth and multiplicity.

• Singular: Qalb
• Plural: Qulub (Hearts)

Here, the short ‘a’ of the singular is replaced, and a long ‘u’ is inserted. The root (Q-L-B) remains, but the internal “music” of the word has changed.

2. The Expansion

Sometimes, the word breaks open to allow new vowels to enter the middle, physically lengthening the word to represent “more” of the object.

• Singular: Jabaal (Mountain)
• Plural: Jibaal (Mountains)

Or consider the word for “Man”:

• Singular: Rajul
• Plural: Rijal

3. The Addition

In other cases, the “break” involves adding a prefix while simultaneously shifting the internal vowels.

• Singular: Qalam (Pen)
• Plural: Aqlam (Pens)
• Singular: Walad (Boy)
• Plural: Awlad (Boys)

The Logic of Patterns (Awzan)

For a new learner, this looks like absolute chaos. If Kitab becomes Kutub, why doesn’t Bitaqah (card) become Butuq? (It doesn’t; it becomes Bitaqat, which is a regular plural—just to keep you on your toes).

However, linguists know that this “chaos” is actually a highly sophisticated filing system. Broken plurals follow specific metrical patterns called Awzan (singular: Wazn). In Arabic grammar, we use a dummy root, F-‘-L (Fa-‘a-la), to represent the three root letters. We can then map plurals onto these templates.

Here are three common plural templates (out of dozens) that govern this linguistic architecture:

1. Fa’aalil: Used often for four-letter singular nouns.
   
   Example: Masjid (Mosque) becomes Masajid.
2. Af’aal: A very common pattern for shorter words.
   
   Example: Film (Film) becomes Aflaam.
3. Fu’uul: Used for many basic nouns.
   
   Example: Bank (Bank) becomes Bunuuk.

While you cannot always guess 100% correctly which singular noun takes which plural pattern, native speakers internalize the rhythm. It sounds “right” to them in the same way an English speaker knows the past tense of “sing” is “sang”, not “singed.”

Why Does Arabic Do This?

From a historical linguistics perspective, Broken Plurals are an ancient Semitic feature. But why reject the ease of a suffix?

Information Density and Economy
Arabic is a language of density. By manipulating the internal vowels, the language keeps words compact. Instead of creating a long, unwieldy train of suffixes (like German or Turkish sometimes do), Arabic compresses grammatical information into the core of the word. It is efficient, maintaining a rhythmic cadence that is essential to the language’s poetic heritage.

Does Arabic Have Regular Plurals?
Yes, it does. This is the “Sound Plural” (Jam’ al-Salim). For example, Mudarris (Teacher) becomes Mudarrisun (Teachers). This is the safe, concatenative method roughly equivalent to the English “s.”

However, the Sound Plural is generally reserved for rational beings (humans) and participles. The Broken Plural is the default for inanimate objects, animals, and arguably constitutes the “soul” of the language’s descriptive power. Even many descriptions of people utilize the broken plural (e.g., “Students” is Tullab, not Talibun).

The Learner’s Perspective: Embracing the Chaos

For the language learner, the Broken Plural is often the first major hurdle where the “rulebook” seems to fly out the window. You memorize a word, and then you must essentially memorize a second word to make it plural.

But there is a turning point in every Arabic student’s journey. Eventually, you stop translating in your head. You hear the pattern mafaateeh (keys) or majahool (unknowns) and you recognize the musicality of the structure. You realize that Arabic isn’t just adding letters to change meaning; it is reshaping the reality of the word.

The broken plural highlights a distinct philosophy of language. In English, the plural is an accessory; the noun wears the plural marker. In Arabic, the plural is a transformation; the noun becomes the plural. It is a fundamental shift in state, achieved through the beautiful, logical chaos of breaking the word apart and putting it back together again.