LOST IN TRANSLATION

This is the post that should have been done on 20th July

Wow, what a powerful and piece and one that has made me think . . hard! So why are all of these speeches done in English? What motivated a Xhosa speaking man, to deliver his speech in English? Was it for the benefit of the people? If this article is to be taken at face value, then I guess the answer would be a resounding NO. We have 11 official languages for goodness sake and the English and Afrikaan speaking people of this country are very clearly in the minority - so why are the speaches that are so important for the average Joe (I beg your pardon, perhaps that should be Shipo) be in a language that he does not understand? Could it perhaps be, because the minority (being the English and Afrikaans) in this country are the ones that have the where-with-all to turn this incredible country from one that was bound by the ropes of apartheid to the democracy that we all enjoy now? Could it be that the people from abroad who are expected (with bated breath) to invest their hard earned moola in our new democracy? Or perhaps, is it because we want he rest of the world (most of whom can understand at least a smattering of English) to know where we have come from and in which direction it is that we would like to go?

Oh hell! I don't know - what are the views on this out there?

Lost in translation
Nhlanhla Thwala
18 April 2007 10:59

Unlike Madiba, Martin Luther King’s famous speeches were understood by his audience
"Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” so said Martin Luther King in his famous “I have a Dream Speech”. As Freedom Day approaches, we may also be moved to repeat Martin Luther’s words. For indeed we are free at last: apartheid is dead and buried. We are all protected by a model Constitution and a Bill of Rights. We have a litany of commissions and boards to safeguard our freedoms and rights encompassing gender, the youth, languages, human rights, et cetera. What more could we ask for?

Much as we have a lot to be thankful for, the present circumstances do not move me to scream “Free at last! Free at last!” But, dear reader, fear not. I will not complain about the usual suspects like crime, corruption, Zimbabwe, BEE, racism, and my favourite, the changing of place names. I will also not harp about the politicians: Thabo Mbeki or Jacob Zuma or Zwelinzima Vavi or Tony Leon or even George W Bush. I will instead engage you about something very basic, namely language and how freedom is mediated by the language you speak in contemporary South Africa.

When Martin Luther King spoke to America on August 28 1963, anyone and everyone who cared to listen could hear and understand what he said. The English language is understood by virtually all Americans. That is not so in this land. There are millions of South Africans who do not know what Nelson Mandela said in his famous 1964 treason trial speech now titled “I am prepared to die”. And even more do not know what he said when he made his famous “balcony speech” on his release from prison in 1990. There are millions still who do not know what Mbeki said in his famous “I am an African” speech in 1996. To anyone who speaks the English language, these iconic speeches have come to define the very essence of being South African. But these speeches are unknown to millions of South Africans who do not speak or understand English. It is not just these speeches which are not known to them. All the structures that underpin our democracy remain obscure and inaccessible to the non-English language speaker. We live in a country where what you know is a function of the language that you speak and read. And your ability to comprehend the freedoms that you have, and your ability to participate in the democracy is determined by language.

Without the English language, you know very little about your freedoms. And your ability to participate in the democracy is highly circumscribed. Take the Constitution as a starting point. Whereas there are translations of the Constitution in all the official languages, I have yet to meet anyone who understands the translated versions in the African languages on their own. I tried to read the isiZulu and siSwati ones and have failed dismally. The translations only make sense when read in conjunction with the English versions because they are translated literally. Only God knows what those who do not speak English make of the Constitution. I am sure of this fact: the translated versions are a poor substitute for the real thing in English. Take also the matter of political discourse outside the election campaign cycle. In general, the political discourse at national level takes place almost entirely in English (and maybe in Afrikaans) -- from policies to the Bills that are passed by Parliament. The non-English speaker is placed at a serious disadvantage as far as participating in the democracy is concerned. How can you really engage with the political process when you do not know what is being debated? The non-English speaker is always at the mercy of the ad hoc translator. But as we all know, translation is a delicate undertaking under the best circumstances. It is capable of introducing noise in the communication channel which seriously distorts the message. And in the hands of a novice, it can cause serious damage, much like in the comedy Going Up! As noted above, the democracy we enjoy is supported by a range of commissions and boards. And hypothetically, these structures are accessible to all citizens. But the amazing thing is that all these structures communicate with the citizens almost entirely in English. Do yourself a favour and check their websites. All but a handful of the web pages are in English only. Maybe the reason is that they assume the web is read by English- speaking people; I do not know.

As I see things, the policy of providing public communication in English is detrimental to the rights of non-English speaking citizens. It may be argued by these organisations that they do provide communication in the language of one’s choice if requested to. But that misses the point. By placing the information that the general public needs behind the barrier of a request, they impede communication. Besides, why should citizens have to request the information when we all know that millions of them need it in their languages to start with? Would it not make sense to provide all the information in different languages on the web page? Finally, consider another vital element in a democracy -- the media. In any free society, the media is a vital platform for information-sharing and debate. But more than simply being a platform, the media also shapes opinion and the “political reality”. Since the media is a powerful tool for influencing political developments, those who access it and make their views known through it have power. And the inverse is also true; those who cannot access the media for any reason are powerless -- the spectators in a game they should be playing. So, language plays a critical role in the making of the powerful and the powerless. The speaker of the English language has numerous media platforms to play with -- ranging from radio (both public and commercial), TV stations, print media and electronic media. The Afrikaans speaker, though not as fortunate as the English speaker, has a range of radio and print media platforms. Pity the speaker of Venda, Tsonga, Sepedi, and other African languages. They have only a handful of media outlets to tap into.

These are whatever the SABC provides in the form of radio and the handful of television slots plus an insignificant print media. Overall, there is no powerful media outside of English (and Afrikaans). And as a result, the speakers of African languages are rendered powerless because they are unable to tap into the most powerful media -- the English media. While we should celebrate all the achievements that have been made in terms of legislation and structures to entrench freedom in the last 13 years, we are a long way from achieving the true meaning of freedom. The inequalities that language creates render millions among us unfree. Their world is devoid of the iconic speeches that we take for granted. They are also not in a position to read and internalise the rights that the Constitution guarantees. Further, they are unable to engage in the political discourse both at the level of creating policies and laws and as well as engaging with the structures that are entrusted with safeguarding our freedoms. And since the powerful media is not in their language, they are denied the opportunity to influence or create the “political reality” which the media shape. The dream is therefore deferred. Nhlanhla Thwala is the acting director of the Wits Language School. He writes in his personal capacity