Have you ever stopped to think about the name LIBRAS? Many people repeat it without question: “Língua Brasileira de Sinais” (Brazilian Sign Language). It sounds simple, but behind this acronym lies a history of linguistic, political, and cultural violence. Look at this:
a) LISBRA: in Brazilian Portuguese – Língua de Sinais Brasileira
in English: Brazilian Sign Language;
b) LIBRAS: in Brazilian Portuguese – Língua Brasileira de Sinais
in English it would be something like
Sign Brazilian Language.
The problem starts with the order of the words. When we say Língua Brasileira de Sinais, we place the adjective “Brazilian” in the middle of an expression that should remain a single unit: língua de sinais (sign language). This breaks the grammatical logic both in Portuguese and in sign language itself. It’s as if we were forcing a tight suit onto an identity that already had its own natural shape.
In practice, the term LIBRAS was born more as an adaptation to the oralist standard than as a natural choice of the deaf community. Oralism here means the view that spoken language is always the main and most legitimate one, and that sign language must fit into its mold.
Why does this matter?
Because names are not neutral. They carry ideologies, memories, and struggles for power. When we use LIBRAS, we reinforce the idea that sign language is a sort of “signed version” of Portuguese – when in fact it has its own grammar, its own logic, its own culture.
Within the deaf community, the natural way of naming is different: Língua de Sinais Brasileira (LISBRA). This follows the same pattern seen in other countries:
- South African Sign Language
- Russian Sign Language
- Indian Sign Language
The core is always sign language.
But the term LIBRAS follows the oralist logic, which would look like this:
- Sign American Language
- Sign Russian Language
- Sign Chinese Language
It may look like a detail, but it isn’t. This “detail” hides the power of a historical process of silencing.
Who chose this name?
That’s an uncomfortable question. The term LIBRAS was made official in 2002 with Law 10.436. But were the native signers the ones who chose it? Or were they oralized deaf leaders, closer to institutions and more easily accepted in the political game of the hearing majority?
That difference matters. An oralized deaf person often needs to “pass” as hearing to be accepted. It’s what some call conditional privilege: you are only welcomed if you give up (at least partially) your own language and culture. In this process, sign language ends up being treated as “auxiliary” – never as a full language.
A problem of grammar and power
From a grammatical standpoint, LIBRAS is an aberration. The expression língua de sinais (sign language) is already a cohesive unit; inserting “Brazilian” in the middle breaks the structure. This is what I call agrammaticality: a kind of violence against the language.
From a political standpoint, LIBRAS represents the triumph of phonocentrism – the idea that sound is superior to gesture, that ears matter more than eyes. It also represents the triumph of ethnocentrism, which has always tried to force difference into the molds of the majority.
Why defend LISBRA?
Because LISBRA respects the natural logic of sign language. This is not just about having a prettier acronym. It is a way of affirming that sign language is not an adaptation of Portuguese, but a legitimate, complete, and autonomous language.
Switching from LIBRAS to LISBRA would not just mean changing four letters. It would mean breaking with a legacy of oralist colonization and giving back to the deaf community the right to name their own language.
A political choice
In the end, the issue is not just linguistic. It is political.
Calling it LISBRA is an act of resistance.
Calling it LIBRAS is to accept – even unknowingly – a history of silencing.
And you, after reading this, can you still say “LIBRAS” without feeling the weight hidden behind those letters?
Download or Read more here:
BATISTA, D. J., & WARZECHA, P. (2025). LIBRAS: Anatomy of a Term that Has Been Distorting Brazilian Sign Language and Deaf Culture. Zenodo. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.16790843