I was told: 'Knowing English, you will be understood anywhere in the world.' But I once saw in a Spanish village two cars collided: a French one and a Swedish one; and the drivers could not communicate with each other or with the policeman. In a small Thai town, I saw a tourist desperately trying to tell a local doctor about his symptoms – but in vain. For a long time, I worked for the UN and WHO (World Health Organization) on all five continents, and I can testify that in Guatemala, Bulgaria, Congo, Japan, and many other countries, English is practically useless outside large hotels and airports.
I was told: 'Thanks to translations, the cultural values of even the most remote peoples are now accessible to everyone.' However, when I compared translations with originals, I found so many omissions, inconsistencies, and distortions of meaning that I came to the following conclusion: translating into our languages actually means deceiving.
In Western countries, I was told that they want to help third world countries while respecting local customs and culture. However, I saw that the use of English and French is accompanied by strong cultural pressure. I saw that without considering the 'linguistic dignity' of other people, we from the very beginning try to impose our language on them in order to speak with them. And I witnessed many problems that arose when training local personnel, because specialists from Western countries do not know local languages, and textbooks in these languages simply do not exist.
I was told: 'Public education for all guarantees equal opportunities for children of all classes.' And I saw, especially in third world countries, that wealthy families send their children to England and the USA to study English; and I saw the masses, literally chained by their own language, oppressed by one propaganda or another, without any external perspective, peoples who (again with the help of language) are forcibly kept in a state of social and economic backwardness.
I was told: 'The Esperanto venture has failed shamefully.' However, I witnessed how in a European mountain village, local children freely converse with Japanese tourists after only six months of learning this language.
I was told: 'Esperanto lacks the human factor.' I studied this language, I read poems and listened to songs in this language. In this language, Brazilians, Chinese, Iranians, Poles, and even a young man from Uzbekistan confided their cherished thoughts to me. And now I – a former professional translator – must admit that these conversations were the most direct and profound that I have ever had in a foreign language.
I was told: 'Esperanto is the end of all culture.' However, when in Eastern European, Asian, and Latin American countries I was received by Esperantists, I was always convinced that practically all of them are more culturally developed than their compatriots of the same social stratum. And when I attended international debates conducted in this language, I was always deeply impressed by their truly high intellectual level.
Of course, I talked about this with the people around me. I told them: 'Listen! Look! Here is something extraordinary: a language that truly solves the problem of communication between peoples. I saw a Hungarian and a Korean discussing philosophical and political issues in this language with incredible ease, despite the fact that only two years had passed since they started learning this language. I saw this and that, and also this...'
However, they objected: 'This is not serious. And besides, this language is artificial.'
I do not understand. When a person's vivid feelings, their impulses, the finest shades of their thoughts are expressed directly through a language born from a successful crossbreeding of many national languages, I am told: 'It is artificial!' But I saw, traveling around the world, how people in despair gave up any hope of talking to those who inhabit the country they were passing through or staying in. I witnessed many explanations using gestures, which often led to absurd misunderstandings. I saw people who eagerly sought culture, but language barriers prevented them from reading the books they so needed.
I saw a huge number of people who spent more than 6-7 years studying a language, who stumbled at every step during conversation, were unable to find the right word, had terrible pronunciation, and trying to express something, completely lost the thread of conversation. I witnessed how linguistic inequality and even discrimination flourished all over the world. I saw diplomats and specialists speaking into microphones and hearing through earphones a voice completely different from that of their actual negotiation partners. And you call this 'natural communication'? Is the art of solving problems taking into account both intellectual and emotional aspects no longer inherent in human nature?
I was told many things, but I felt that none of it was right. Therefore, I am confused and wander in bewilderment in this society that declares the right of everyone to communicate with other people. And I cannot understand: either I am being deliberately deceived, or I have gone mad.
'Zagranitsa' No. 15, 1999.
Claude PIRON, Geneva.
Translated from Esperanto by Evgenia ZVEREVA.