Language constraints and human rights
Anniversary Symposium on Language
and Human Rights (Geneva, UN, Palais des Nations, Room
VIII, April 28, 1998) Linguists don't bother with artificial languages.
Mr. Chairman,
The feeling
that pervades the Universal Declaration of Human Rights
is an aspiration towards fairness. But there is little
awareness of the importance of fairness in the field
of language and of the importance of language in the
field of fairness. Society's attitude towards languages
favors inequality everywhere. In the United Nations,
while some may use their mother tongue, many are deprived
of that possibility, and there is no consideration for
their handicap. Yet, it would be easy to reestablish
fairness. It would suffice to decide that nobody in
the UN family has the right to use his or her mother
tongue. If the French, the Americans and the other privileged
nations were obliged to use the language of another
culture in all their oral or written communications,
they would realize the plight of their linguistically
handicapped colleagues and the concept of fairness in
language use would perhaps find a point of entry into
international relationships. This simple suggestion
is unrealistic in today's context. It induces a feeling
of strangeness, of eccentricity. Why? What does this
reveal, if not that, whatever the eloquent speeches
in favor of fairness among nations, there is no real
will to relate with all on an equal footing?
There is a kind of blindness,
of insensitivity, among those who can use their mother tongue towards
those who are not so fortunate. When you are forced to use a language
which is not yours, you appear less intelligent than you are, very
often you sound ridiculous. When I was a précis-writer at
the UN in New York forty years ago, the representative of a Member
State on the verge of economic collapse began an intervention, speaking
slowly, obviously scanning his mind for words, by saying: "My
Government sinks..." He meant thinks, of course. Everybody
laughed. What struck me was that there was no compassion for this
man, who, like 80% of the people living on this planet did not have
the th-sound in his language and had thus either to torture
his mouth to enunciate the simplest sentence in English or to sound
ridiculous. Or let's consider the case of Ms Helle Degn, a Danish
minister who, opening an international meeting and wanting to apologize
for her lack of familiarity with the subject for she had just assumed
her functions, said: "I'm at the beginning of my period"
(1). Why was she the laughing stock of the assembly?
Why was she exposed to a risk of ridicule from which representatives
of a number of countries are always free? Through her fault? No.
As most foreigners who use English at a rather high level, she had
had more than 10,000 hours of study and practice of the language.
But you never reach a level of equality with the native speakers.
The risk of ridicule is not distributed evenly.
When I
worked for WHO, there was a Japanese doctor who represented
his country at a regional body. At any meeting, he never
said more than two or three sentences prepared on a
pad. We all thought: "Well, he's not very talkative".
But then the Japanese Government organized a meeting
in Tokyo and provided simultaneous interpretation from
Japanese. This delegate's attitude completely changed.
He had a lot to say, many very useful contributions
to make to all items of the agenda. He was freed from
the handicap of having to formulate his thoughts in
a strange language. We discovered a totally different
personality.
How come
the use of language has such an influence not only on
how you are perceived, how you perform in negotiations,
but also on the simple fact of daring to ask to be heard?
How come this inequality is so seldom realized by those
who can always use their mother tongue?
Learning a language: a formidable
task
When we acquire our mother
tongue we are much too young to understand what is going on. Learning
it means introducing in our brain and drilling into reflexes hundreds
of thousands of data, programs and subprograms that are connected
in extremely intricate patterns. That's the reason why after 20,000
hours of complete immersion in their language children, at age six
or seven, are still unable to express their thoughts correctly.
They will say foots instead of feet or comed
instead of came, because the general programs have not yet
been linked to the specific subprograms that words like foot
or come should summon up. When you learn a foreign language,
you have to decondition yourself from many of these reflexes and
recondition yourself with reflexes of the new tongue. This is a
formidable task, which explains for instance that in Hong Kong,
after six years of study with several hours per day, half
the students fail at their English exam at the age of sixteen (2).
It is sad
that there is so little compassion for all the people
who are not part of the so-called élite and who
suffer from language handicap. Just as there is very
little compassion for the millions of children all over
the world who are forced to devote an enormous amount
of time and nervous energy to the completely useless
study of languages they will never master.
I'm thinking
of a group of refugees from Yugoslavia and ex-Yugoslavia
I've had to deal with. All the adults had had six years
of Russian, German or English at a rate of four hours
a week. Well, I can more or less get along in those
languages. But communication with these people was incredibly
frustrating. They needed a few minutes to express an
idea that would have required two seconds in their mother
tongue, and very often they simply failed. Once, for
a mother from Osijek to understand the message "The
coat for your kid will be available next week"
we needed five minutes, because she didn't remember
the right words and we had to find all sorts of devices
to reach the necessary concepts with the little vocabulary
that was left her in spite of the considerable investment
in language learning, in terms of time and effort, she
had made in school.
At least,
eventually, we managed to understand each other. But
what if you are faced with an old woman who speaks only
Albanian, and she goes through hysterics, and you realize
that what she expresses is a saturation of pain, distress,
confusion, despair, and you know that you could help
her, that you're trained in the techniques available
to calm her down, but you can do nothing, because you
don't understand one single detail in the story she
needs to tell, of the feelings she has to communicate
to regain her balance? When you go through such an experience,
you know what it is to be linguistically handicapped.
You feel as if you had had a stroke and your brain had
been damaged, and although your heart is full of a desire
to help, you are utterly powerless. You are not a human
being any more. Because what makes us human is relationship.
I wonder
what the price will be, for the next generations, of
all the traumas that will rebound because they have
not been dealt with at the right time, not for lack
of therapists, but for lack of the language making the
therapy possible, a therapy which, in many cases, would
be a short one. People in distress need to be listened
to and to hear from the listener that they are understood.
But this requires a linguistic means of communication.
At a time when millions of persons have to adjust to
another culture, because political or economic constraints
forced them to leave their home, the plight of the linguistically
handicapped is an everyday occurrence, but society as
a whole has no compassion for it, although, as I'll
show you in a minute, it could be easily avoided, if
there were a will.
Discrimination and injustice
Why is there no will?
For one part, because there is no awareness. The very concept of
language handicap is alien to most people. That sad reality is never
named, and when something is not formulated, it does not find its
place in the conscious mind. The result is that most victims of
language handicap do not feel it as such. What they actually feel
is much closer to guilt. If I cannot make myself understood, it's
my fault, I've been too lazy or not resourceful enough to acquire
a proper means of communication. People who, because of language,
are ridiculous or unfairly treated by the police, the judicial system
or their bosses, do not realize that society has a larger responsibility
in their handicap than they have themselves. So the discrimination
that occurs is seldom realized. Not often do you read a sentence
like the following, which I take from The Wall Street Journal
(3) and which refers to the people, known as
gatekeepers, who sort out job applicants on the basis of interviews
in English: "The English of 'gatekeepers' is one of the least
visible, least measurable and least understood aspects of discrimination".
Another
aspect is that those who exploit foreigners find it
useful never to be forced to take responsibility, thanks
to language problems.
A Swiss
traveler in Manila, Philippines, persuaded young E.B.
to come to Switzerland with him; he promised to finance
his studies, to provide him with accommodation and even
to adopt him legally. The fourteen year old accepted.
When he arrived, he was forced into a network of prostitution
and was also used as a slave by his master. An opportunity
to be saved arose when two policemen came to the house
where he was imprisoned, because there was some suspicion
as to what was going on. The policemen actually saw
the young man, but he spoke only a kind of pidgin English
and the policemen had no English at all. His master
discussed with them in the local Swiss German dialect.
The youngster failed to make himself understood, and
the man could explain away his utterances in a language
that was incomprehensible to the young slave, so that
he could not contest the man's assertions, as he could
have done had he not been locked up in his language
handicap.
Here in Geneva, a man
from Burkina Faso was condemned without comprehending what was happening
to him, since he spoke only Bissa, an African dialect, and the procedure
was in French. Impressed by the police and, probably, harboring
the guilt feelings usually attached to language handicap, he signed
the police report typed about him although he did not understand
its contents. We know of the fact only because a lawyer happened
on the right spot at the right minute and succeeded in having the
first judgment reversed. This man was almost sent back to Africa
before political asylum was considered by the authorities, under
the pretext of unlawful facts of which he was innocent and which
he had not been able to contest (4).
One of
the aspects of the language handicap problem is the
dearth of interpreters. So the administrations call
on anybody from the relevant language area. But interpreting
while remaining objective, without introducing the distortions
due to one's political views or emotional state, is
not easy at all. Many a refugee has suffered from this
consequence of his language handicap.
The current
lack of consciousness of the importance of language
as a factor of full human dignity leads to hidden kinds
of discrimination. A person I know in Berlin was forced
to speak German to his son in kindergarten, because
the attendant there demands to understand what children
and parents say to each other. Of course, this is not
terrible in itself, since such communications are restricted
to a few minutes every day. But the attendant's attitude
reveals the widespread idea that language is not important,
as if its function was only to communicate ideas. This
is a negation of all the emotional aspect of language,
as well as of its role in identity feelings, which are
one of the basis of the feeling of dignity so often
mentioned in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
The attendant in the kindergarten does not realize that
her demand is disparaging, that it results in reinforcing
a feeling of rejection and of inferior status. A similar,
but much more serious, interference in the relationship
between parent and child is prevalent in Turkish jails,
where a father visiting his son is forced to speak Turkish,
whereas the family language, the language of feelings
and emotions, so important in such a context from a
humane point of view, is actually Kurdish.
What can be done?
Perhaps
you're thinking: "OK, so, that's the situation,
what can be done about it?" First we have to acknowledge
that language handicap is pervasive in today's world
and that it causes much suffering, frustration and injustice.
Then we
should analyze the causes of the problem. The main one
may be that there is no will to solve it, because the
present world language order (or rather disorder) gives
advantages to certain groups or social layers that are
reluctant to forgo their superiority. Another cause
may be that there is no real awareness of the extent
of the problem, its impact on millions of lives. Part
of this lack of awareness may be due, in turn, to a
tendency to ignore the neuropsychological aspect of
language, i.e. the amplitude of the input necessary
to acquire a language, in other words the fact that
fluency in most languages demands that hundreds of thousands
of reflexes be inserted and maintained in the brain.
The next
step would be an approach along the lines of operations
research: a comparative analysis of all the means available
to reach the goal. The objective is clear: to free as
much as possible as many sufferers from language handicap
as possible at a minimum cost. A comparative analysis
should be undertaken of all the systems used by humankind
to overcome the language barrier so as to determine
which is the most cost effective, the most psychologically
satisfying, the most respectful of all cultures and
the optimum one from the point of view of fairness.
At this
stage, I wish to emphasize an important point never
mentioned in discussions on language use, namely that
a huge percentage of the effort imposed on the brain
for the acquisition of a foreign language has nothing
to do with the effectiveness of communication and thus
with the removal of the obstacles that bring about language
handicap. So if there is a language which follows the
natural flow of nervous energy without having to deviate
it by conditioned reflexes, it may offer a solution
of the problem.
I mentioned
earlier my experience with refugees who had been taught
English, German or Russian for an average of twelve
hundred hours and whose language competence was so poor
that we needed five minutes to communicate an idea that
would have required two seconds in our mother tongues.
But I refrained from confessing the whole truth, which
is that after a few weeks a young worker from Kosovo
arrived. An ethnic Albanian, he had learned Esperanto
for six months. With him I had no communication problem.
With me, he had no language handicap. He was not more
intelligent or educated than the others. But wanting
to get in touch with people all over the world, and
realizing that reaching this goal was too slow a process
with the languages studied in school, he tried Esperanto.
Indeed, this is a language based on a full use of creativity,
on the possibility of generalizing all linguistic structures
without exception, on freedom in syntax and word order,
and thus a language following without obstacles and
detours the spontaneous movement of a human brain wishing
to express an idea or a feeling. It is a fact that,
on an average, one month of Esperanto affords a communication
capability corresponding to one year in another language.
So, after six months of Esperanto you master the language
at a level which requires six years in the case of English.
Moreover, if you cease using it for a few years, you
forget it much less than other languages, because natural
reflexes are stable whereas conditioned reflexes are
not. If you have doubts about this, just pay attention
to the kind of mistakes you make in a foreign language
when you resume its use after a few years without practice.
It is a
fact that all over the world Esperanto is being used
by networks of people who form a kind of diaspora, in
which there is no language handicap. This milieu's experience
is something like a pilot study that has proven the
appropriateness of the means with respect to the objective.
Pretending that this experience does not exist is insulting
to the millions of people who suffer from language handicap.
I'm not
saying that Esperanto should be adopted. I'm saying
that it should be considered. All those who are exposed
to the suffering, discrimination and injustice linked
to language handicap, to say nothing of economic exploitation,
traumas to identity feelings or the lack of appropriate
therapy, deserve an objective, fair consideration of
the facts to which I have just alluded and of many more.
You cannot judge Esperanto objectively without comparing
it to the other methods of intercultural communication
for such criteria as precision, richness, learnability
for people with the most different mother tongues, adequacy
in expressing emotion and feelings, and so forth, just
as you cannot judge it without studying its literature,
its poetry, its songs, its history, its functioning
in international meetings, etc.
In my opinion, the approach
should be a long term one. After all the relevant data have been
duly verified, if Esperanto proves to afford the best way of freeing
society from language handicap, its teaching in all elementary schools
throughout the world should be organized. It would not change much
in the curricula, since ten minutes a day for one year is enough
as a first stage, and those ten minutes can be integrated in the
teaching of the mother tongue (5). Its teaching
in elementary school does not preclude the teaching of other languages
in secondary school. So, instead of having millions of children
torturing their minds with very poor results in an attempt to master
English considered as the means of international communication,
students would regard national languages as something worth discovering
for their cultural value. They could choose, according to where
they live, among languages such as Sanskrit, Italian, Farsi, Ancient
Greek, Shakespearian English, Hebrew, Arabic or whatever. Such a
plan would solve two problems at the same time for the next generation.
It would dispose of language handicap, and it would rid the world
of its tendency towards a unidimensional culture based on American
productions.
Many Governments invest
huge sums in the teaching of English with very poor results: as
an average, only one student out of one hundred is capable of properly
using the language after six years of study, and the teachers' level
is appalling. When you hear the head of the English training program
at the University of Malaysia say that "Many English teachers
cannot converse in English" (6), what can
you expect, especially since the same judgment applies to many countries?
And the cause doesn't lie in laziness, poor organization or inadequate
pedagogy. It lies in the huge and incompressible amount of reflexes
necessary to acquire the language. Wouldn't it be sensible to replace
this very ineffective investment by something much less expensive
that could really free the world from language handicap? It would
not demand more than a genuine will, and a coordination among Governments
similar to what was successfully set up in a relatively short time
for the eradication of smallpox.
But the
will to solve the problem cannot appear without a change
in mentality. Today's World Language Order is vertical,
with hierarchized languages and English at the top.
That's where power is. So there is a kind of gold rush
situation with a lot of competition to reach the top
and no compassion whatsoever for those who suffer from
the system. Esperanto would promote a horizontal situation,
with all languages treated as equal and the communication
tool relatively easily available to all.
Language
handicap is not a malediction that leaves us powerless.
The experience of the Esperanto community proves the
opposite. Those who advocate ignoring it under the pretext
that such a language is irrelevant, dangerous, impossible
or whatever assume a very serious responsibility, positioning
themselves as they do against objectivity and thus against
fairness. If there is a treatment for an endemic disease,
what would you think of a public health administrator
who suppresses all attempts at promoting it, maintaining
millions of people in pain or in a weakened state, because,
without a single glance at the relevant scientific literature
and at the results of pilot projects applying it in
the field, he decided beforehand that that treatment
was just rubbish? Is such an attitude in accordance
with the spirit of the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights? Or, to take another example, is there such difference
between a person who declares Esperanto irrelevant or
useless before checking the facts and an officer who
rejects a refugee requesting asylum before hearing him
out? Practically all the rights included in the Universal
Declaration imply a linguistic means of communication.
Let's take for instance article 19 on freedom of expression
which “includes freedom (...) to seek, receive and impart
information and ideas (...) regardless of frontiers”.
How can you exercise such a right without a language
appropriate to easy, fluent, trap free communication
with which you can deal with your partners or opponents
on equal terms? Such questions deserve at least some
consideration.
Thank you,
Mr. Chairman.
____________
1. Jyllands-Posten, January 14, 1994; Sprog og erhverv,
1, 1994.
2. Philip Segal, "Tongue-Tied in Hong Kong",
International Herald Tribune, March 18, 1998.
3. Barry Newman, "Global Chatter - World Speaks
English, Often None Too Well", The Wall Street Journal, Midwest
Edition, March 22, 1995, p. A15.
4. Frédéric Montanya, "Police
et justice doivent respecter les droits des accusés",
Le Courrier (Geneva) June 10, 1997.
5. Claude
Piron, "Le défi
des langues" (Paris: L'Harmattan, 1994), p. 317; see also
pages 174-193.
6. Jay Branegan, "Finding a Proper Place for
English", Time, September 16, 1991, p. 51.
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