The Grammar of Evidentials in Quechua

Imagine you say, “My neighbor is buying a new car.” It’s a simple statement. But now, consider the follow-up question: “How do you know?” Did you see him at the dealership? Did his wife tell you? Or did you just see a car-buying guide on his coffee table and make a guess?

In English, conveying this source of knowledge is optional. We can add phrases like “I saw”, “apparently”, or “I guess”, but the sentence is grammatically complete without them. In many other languages, however, this is not an option. For speakers of Quechua—the indigenous language family spoken by millions across the Andes—indicating the source of your knowledge isn’t just good practice; it’s a grammatical necessity. This fascinating feature is called evidentiality.

What Are Evidentials?

Evidentiality is a linguistic category where a speaker must specify, using grammatical markers, how they acquired the information they are conveying. Think of it as a built-in citation system embedded directly into the language. It’s a constant, subtle answer to the question, “What’s your proof?”

While English speakers might use adverbs or entire clauses, Quechua speakers use small suffixes called enclitics. These suffixes attach to words to show whether the information comes from direct experience, from hearsay, or from conjecture. Let’s dive into the core trio of Quechua evidentials that beautifully illustrate this concept.

The Three Pillars of Knowing: -mi, -si, and -chá

To understand how these work, let’s take a simple sentence: Wawqi Tumasqa takin. (Brother Tomás sings.) This is a base statement, but a Quechua speaker would rarely leave it like this. They would add an evidential suffix to signal their relationship to the information.

-mi: The Suffix of Direct Experience

The suffix -mi is used when the speaker has direct, firsthand knowledge of the information. They saw it, felt it, heard it, or it is a piece of general knowledge they hold to be an absolute fact. It conveys certainty and personal validation.

• Example: Wawqi Tumasqa takinmi.
• Translation: “Brother Tomás sings (and I know this because I hear him/see him; it’s a direct observation).”

This suffix tells the listener, “You can trust this information because I am its direct source.” It’s a mark of high confidence. Linguistically, -mi has an allomorph (a variant form) -n, which is used after a vowel. For instance, “Payqa yachachiqmi“ (He is a teacher), but “Mariyan yachachiq” (Maria is a teacher).

-si: The Suffix of Hearsay

The suffix -si is the reportative or hearsay marker. It’s used when the speaker is relaying information they heard from someone else. This is the suffix for stories, news, gossip, and anything you didn’t witness yourself. It effectively says, “Don’t quote me on this, but this is what I was told.”

• Example: Wawqi Tumasqa takinsi.
• Translation: “Brother Tomás sings (or so they say / I heard).”

Using -si cleverly distances the speaker from the absolute truth of the statement. They are simply a messenger, reporting what was passed on to them. It carries no guarantee of an event’s reality, only that the report of the event exists. Just like -mi, it also has an allomorph, -s, which appears after words ending in a vowel.

-chá: The Suffix of Conjecture

The suffix -chá is used for conjecture, inference, or expressing probability. This is the marker for a good guess. The speaker hasn’t seen it, and no one has told them, but based on the available evidence, they are making a logical assumption. It’s the equivalent of saying “probably”, “must be”, or “I suppose.”

• Example: Wawqi Tumasqa takinchá.
• Translation: “Brother Tomás probably sings / I guess he’s singing.”

The context for this might be hearing a muffled melody from his house or knowing he practices at this time of day. The information isn’t certain, but it’s a reasoned hypothesis. Unlike the other two, -chá does not have a common allomorph and is used consistently.

More Than Just Meaning: The Grammar of Focus

Here’s where it gets even more interesting for language nerds. These evidential markers aren’t just stuck at the end of the verb. They are enclitics that attach to the most important or “focused” piece of information in the sentence. By moving the evidential, a speaker can subtly change the emphasis of their statement.

Let’s look at another example: “Tayta Pedroqa chakrapi llamk’arqanmi.” (Mr. Pedro worked in the field.)

1. Tayta Pedroqami chakrapi llamk’arqan.
   Focus: Mr. Pedro.
   
   Meaning: “It was Mr. Pedro who worked in the field (I saw him specifically).”
2. Tayta Pedroqa chakrapimi llamk’arqan.
   Focus: In the field.
   
   Meaning: “Mr. Pedro worked in the field (as opposed to somewhere else; I saw that was the location).”
3. Tayta Pedroqa chakrapi llamk’arqanmi.
   Focus: Worked.
   
   Meaning: “Mr. Pedro worked in the field (as opposed to playing or resting; that’s the action I witnessed).”

This dynamic placement shows that evidentials are a core part of Quechua syntax, serving not only to mark the evidence but also to structure the flow of information in a sentence.

A Window into a Worldview

The grammar of evidentials isn’t just a dry set of rules; it’s a profound reflection of a culture’s epistemology—its philosophy of knowledge. In a worldview shaped by Quechua grammar, you are constantly reminded to be mindful of your sources. You cannot simply state something as a fact without, on a grammatical level, vouching for how you know it.

This system fosters what some linguists and anthropologists call “epistemic responsibility.” It encourages intellectual honesty and a clear distinction between personal experience, reported information, and personal inference. In a society where community and shared knowledge are vital, knowing the origin of information is as crucial as the information itself.

Take a moment to imagine if this were a feature of English. How would our news reports change? What about posts on social media? A sentence like “The economy is improving” would need a suffix: -mi (because my personal finances are better), -si (because I read it in a report), or -chá (because the stock market seems to be up). It’s a fascinating thought experiment that highlights the deep connection between language, thought, and culture.

So, the next time you hear a piece of information, ask yourself the question that a Quechua speaker must always answer: How do I know this? You might find that looking at the world through the lens of evidentials makes you a more critical and conscious thinker.