2 Languages Don't Make for 1 Nation


Gregory Boyd Bell
New York Newsday
Thursday, August 23, 2001

ENGLISH MAY SEEM secure as the language of the United States, but recent census figures have revived concerns that a growing Spanish-speaking population could compromise the status of English. In fact, it's not hard to imagine circumstances that could lead to some form of constitutional protection for the minority language.

As citizens of a dysfunctionally bilingual nation, we in Canada have learned, the hard way, some relevant lessons. Our 32-year experiment with official bilingualism suggests that constitutionally enshrined minority language rights tend to deform government, drag down the economy and promote national disintegration. The U.S. Census Bureau reports that America's Hispanic population grew 58 percent during the 1990s, reaching 35.3 million in 2000. Earlier this month, the bureau reported that 18 percent of Americans do not speak English at home. The 2001 National Hispanic Media Directory lists 34 Spanish-language newspapers in America, up from just 14 in 1990. Among Spanish speakers, only half of adults said they speak English well.

On May 5, President George W. Bush delivered a radio address partly in Spanish. The occasion was Cinco de Mayo, the anniversary of an 1862 Mexican victory over a French occupation army. Such actions suggest Bush sides with political strategists who view Spanish speakers as a growing and cohesive constituency. White House spokespeople say the administration does not plan to rescind President Bill Clinton's executive order of last year, which required that non-English speakers have equal access to federal services (although 51 Republican congressmen have signed onto a bill that would repeal the order).

The reason for this blossoming appreciation of Hispanic culture is, of course, votes. And the competition to win the favor of Hispanics will create a dangerous temptation - to win favor with Spanish-speaking voters by offering legal protections for their language.

The dangers of minority language protection are clear in Canada, where the government has made repeated interventions on behalf of a French-speaking minority of slightly more than 25 percent of the population.

Canada's French-English bilingual status is frequently a source of wonder and confusion to visitors, who encounter a voice of offialdom that has to repeat everything, once in each language. But true bilingualism is present only when dealing with the federal government - in places like airports, border crossings and, of course, the capital, Ottawa. Outside federal offices and agencies, English dominates in most of the country, while French is the main language in most of Quebec, smatterings of New Brunswick and some isolated stretches of Ontario and Manitoba.

Canada landed in its language mess first because of history. One colonial power (the English) defeated another (the French) for control of a land already divided between two nationalities of settlers who had displaced the indigenous peoples. The victorious English, following the theory that happy subjects require fewer troops, ceded some linguistic rights and religious freedoms to the French minority for the sake of easier administration. This arrangement wobbled along for 200 years, with the French-speaking population shrinking in relative size as immigrants settled the English-dominated regions, until the emergence of Quebec's independence movement in the latter half of the 20th century.

The government of the day decided to accommodate Quebec by declaring official French-English bilingualism, giving all citizens the right to deal with the federal government in the official language of their choice. Eventually, the civil service was required to be bilingual, which created a cadre of bilingual managers, translators and other bureaucrats to ensure compliance with the Official Languages Act - as well as others to argue that their department really was complying with the law and it was just a misunderstanding, and so on. Worse, competent civil servants who failed to master both languages found their prospects for advancement shrunken; so, they opted for the private sector.

In the 1970s, new regulations required packaging of consumer goods to carry both languages, leading to the working definition of official bilingualism as an attempt to reconcile two cultures by forcing them to read each other's directions for microwaving a frozen pizza. This has been costly and annoying for some businesses, although it has protected the Canadian printing and packaging industries, which alter or repackage American imports.

The effect of all this bending over backwards, forwards and sideways is a federal government that has to say everything twice and a provincial government in Quebec that is never satisfied. Quebec has, since the 1980s, been governed mainly by a party dedicated to forming an independent state. The likelihood is about 50-50 that Quebec will break away in some fashion, possibly precipitating a wider collapse of the whole Canadian federal state.

Could such constitutional mayhem happen in America? Only if politicians decide to offer special rights to Spanish-speakers.

The lesson of Canada is simple: leave language alone. But even though it's clearly against the national interest to attach legal rights to a minority language, the Canadian experience also shows that politicians seeking short-term electoral favor are capable of handing out new rights and entitlements that only create trouble later on.

Unfettered unofficial multilingualism is a fact of modern life in immigration-friendly nations like Canada and America. The modern history of North America shows there's nothing wrong with - or anything you really can do about - immigrants speaking their own languages. Integration with the new culture takes place over generations; immigrants arrive with their own languages, cultures and values that their offspring carry into mainstream culture, enriching it in the process.

In such nations it makes sense for governments and private enterprise to make use of whatever languages will get their message out. Thus, a state government may decide that the need to make sure newcomers know how to get a driver's licence makes it worth hiring a translator to get the message out. A local government that wants people to watch out for signs of West Nile virus would be incompetent if it did not send this message in whatever language necessary.

Unofficial multiculturalism is an unavoidable and an enjoyable aspect of life in a society of newcomers. But legal, constitutional defenses for minority langauges are bad for everyone. Such language rights erect a sort of legal greenhouse around minority languages to artificially protect them from the surrounding culture.

America is already saddled in certain jurisdictions with a minority right - the requirement that non-English speaking children have access to public education in their cradle language. The debate over bilingual education simmers in New York, where even California crusader Ron Unz - who led the fight to do away with bilingual education in his state. Californians voted in 1998 to do away with bilingual education - has appeared. Since then, test scores have suggested that children do better in all subjects when required to learn the majority language.

The heart of the argument against bilingual education applies equally well to the minority language debate as a whole: equality and opportunity require that everyone have a chance to learn the language that dominates the nation, not just the neighborhood.

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Gregory Boyd Bell is a Toronto writer and editor