Language as Homeland: Keeping Basque Alive
Etorri ona! Goazen neskak! Azkar!
It started with Naroa. She was an exchange student who stayed with our family: my wife and my two daughters. She taught me my first words of her native language — which were of great value when living with three teenage girls: “Come here! Let’s go, girls! Quickly!”
Naroa speaks Spanish and Basque, or as its speakers refer to it, Euskara, the term I will use in this article. She grew up bilingual in Getxo, a small town in the North of Spain, also known as the “Basque Country” or Euskal Herria. She grew up in a family that spoke Spanish, and at age 3 started school where instruction was carried out completely in Euskara. Formal Spanish instruction didn’t begin until age 7. Among her friends and family she speaks a mixture of Euskara and Spanish, depending on whom she is talking to. With her mom, she speaks Spanish; with some friends, pure Euskara; with her sisters, a mix.
Mixing Spanish and Euskara may not sound natural to an outsider because of the strong differences between the two. The two languages are less related than English and Russian — more like English and Japanese. English and Russian belong to a single language family, the “Indo-European” family, which includes the European languages, like English, the Romance languages (including Spanish), and the Slavic languages, as well as Hindi and the Northern Indian languages, and the main language of Iran, Farsi. Before the Indo-Europeans came to the Iberian Peninsula, they encountered people speaking languages of another language family, of which Euskara is the only surviving remnant.
A similar phenomenon happened a few hundred years ago in North America. Scores of language families, represented by hundreds of languages, existed on this continent before Europeans came. North American languages are drastically losing speakers over the course of a few generations, however, while Basque is thriving.
Euskaldunak, or Euskara-speakers (singular, Euskaldun), survived Visigoth and Roman invasion, and then Arabs and a Spanish reconquest of the country, over the course of two millennia. Miraculously, the number of Euskaldunak is growing over the past twenty years.
What did Euskara do differently? How did it survive? Can it survive into the future?
Euskara and Europe
Irish represents another European minority language threatened by a more powerful common language, and so a language to compare with the challenges and successes of Euskara. In the article, “Can anybody truthfully say that Irish is a necessary language?,” the Irish author, Rosita Boland, expresses her frustration at the time wasted (12 years!) at failing to learn the first national language of Ireland.
Ms. Boland suffered at studying this language unsuccessfully at school. She writes, “The disgrace, as I see it, is being forced by the State to study a compulsory language for which I had no aptitude, absolutely no interest in, and no choice about throughout my entire school career. Where is the pedagogic sense in that?”
To be honest, this sounds like my 14-year old’s laments about learning to divide polynomials: “How am I ever going to use that?” I agree with my 14-year old, I don’t divide polynomials. So I can’t dismiss Ms. Boland’s complaints out of hand.
But the author’s complaint goes deeper. Not only did she fail to learn this compulsory subject, her country’s founding documents tie her Irish identity to it. She further argues, “It is written into our Constitution that Irish is our national language and the first official language. English is recognised as a second official language. That does not make sense.” About her own experience she writes, “I did not like having a language I had no interest in being forced on me as a child and teenager; as an adult, I like even less having my national identity pinned to a language I never use and cannot speak.”
Comparing Irish to Euskara, 82,600 people in Ireland speak Irish outside of school (according to the 2011 census) out of a total population of 4.61 million. Almost 720,000 exist out of a total population of 3.1 million in the territory, if you combine speakers from Spain and France. Significantly, the highest percentage of Euskara speakers comes from the 16–25 year old age demographic, double the percentage of the 65+ age range. Euskara is growing successfully.
What is the difference between Irish and Euskara? Why the vitriol from a failed Irish learner, yet growing engagement among the Euskara? One hundred years ago, there were plenty of monolingual speakers of both, even in the US. (New York was full of Irish speakers, and Idaho, Euskara-speaking shepherds.) The languages suffered terribly in the 20th century. One language bounced back, and the other was met with disengagement and antipathy.
How do they teach the languages?
The Basque government set up a system of schools called Ikastolak, where subjects are taught in Euskara — an immersive education experience. That’s where Naroa went to school. Euskara is the means of education, not a subject. For example, she has never taken math in Spanish.
Granted, some of the teachers do not speak Euskara as well as others. At private schools, the teachers tend to speak Euskara better, Naroa told me. Your child will learn the language, unless you decide to put your child in a Spanish-speaking school.
In Ireland, Irish is a subject, taught for up to an hour per day, like math or science. The means of general school instruction is English. Thus Ms. Boland’s argument for a lack of “aptitude” only makes sense in the Irish context where one is graded on one’s ability to speak. Five-year-old Euskara kids just speak Euskara.
What is the incentive for learning the languages?
One cannot get a job in the Euskal Herria without knowledge of Euskara. One can receive different levels of certification in Basque, but almost any job requires some level of sufficiency. Here’s an article entitled, “It’s never too late for Basque”, aimed at adult learners of Basque.
Ireland requires no one to speak Irish, except in the Gaeltacht designated region. The new Irish language government minister can’t speak Irish.
It seems to me, then, that the Irish government has not put policies in place that actualize their constitution. The Basque government, which has fewer resources than Ireland, made the language a clear priority in education, and not just as a subject in education, but as a medium of education from an early age.
Language as homeland
Last summer I visited Naroa and her family in Euskal Herria. There I met an Euskara teacher, Txili Lauzirika, with a passion for the language. A teacher and poet by profession, and a sociologist by training, he offered me important insights into the survival of Euskara up to the present, as well as its continued existence into the future. Because Lauzirika’s training was in sociology and not history, he presented me some counter-narratives. These depictions offer hope to the future existence of this minority language.
Often we hear that Euskara survived the millennia because of its isolation from the speakers of other languages. As one author wrote, “It is this mountainous terrain which is largely responsible for the survival of the Basque language down to the present day: the Romans apparently saw no point in trying to romanize the mountains, and the later Franks, Visigoths, and Arabs were simply unable to subdue the Basques in their mountains.” The terrain kept the language safe from other cultures.
History tells us, however, that Romans were perfectly capable of subduing and assimilating mountain people. Note the Romansh-speaking areas of Switzerland.
Contrary to the common view, Lauzirika informed me that the language always found itself in the midst of other languages. It was not isolated.
We see historical evidence of linguistic interactions between Euskara and the languages of the surrounding cultures. The term “Basque” we find first in the turn-of-the-era Greek historian, Strabo, which was borrowed into Latin. We know, therefore, that these people have connected formally with Greek- and Latin-speakers for over 2000 years. Euskara was spoken there then, and we can see the extent the language was spoken by the place names recorded by these classical historians.
During the struggle between Christians and Muslims in the second millennium of the Common Era, we have evidence that Muslims, Jews, and Basques lived alongside each other. In an edict from 1349, for example, the Kingdom of Aragon forbade the Arabic, Hebrew, and Basque language from being spoken in the marketplace in the town of Huesca. Thus we can see that speakers of these three languages, plus Spanish, were coming into regular contact with each other.
The language of the Euskaldunak thus differentiated them from their geographical neighbors and their co-religionists.
We also see historical linguistic evidence preserved in the Euskara language. During the Roman period, Euskaldunak came into regular contact with Latin. For example, the Euskara word for “church” eliza, is thought to come from a form of the Latin word for the same, ecclesia. A traditional sword-dance, ezpata-dantza, comes from the Latin word for sword spatha (from which also derives the English “spatula”), for which an equivalent does not exist in Spanish, so we know it is an ancient borrowing.
During the Arab period, the Euskaldunak interacted regularly with these new neighbors. The traditional Basque musical instrument, the alboka comes from Arabic al-boq, also a musical instrument. (The Spanish albogon comes independently from the same root.) The word for “market,” as in a special market event (e.g., “Today is the monthly market day”), azoka comes directly from Arabic, as-suq, in addition to merkatua, meaning a place where you shop (e.g., “I have to stop by the market to get some bread”), derived from Spanish, mercado.
If, however, Euskaldunak are going to the eliza with Romans and performing with a Roman ezpata, and later trading with the Arabs at the azoka and joining in their music on the alboka, we shouldn’t push their isolation too much. Plenty of interactions were taking place in peace.
Euskara did not just get lucky with particularly irenic neighbors, as we see what kind of pressure the language has been under. In more recent history, the Nationalists during the Spanish Civil War (1936–39) sought to annihilate Basque culture, and ultimately killed over 22,000 Basques. Later, Franco suppressed Euskara by sponsoring burning Euskara books and by outlawing Euskara names. Upon Franco’s death, the struggle for Basque independence even produced the ETA separatist group, which fought against the “Frankistak” for an independent Euskal Herria.
In the face of other, competing languages from more powerful neighbors, how did Euskara continue to thrive? While Euskara is no longer spoken in Huesca, there is no longer any region in Spain where Arabic or Hebrew persists. The Spanish conquest of Iberia from the Arabs managed to eliminate Arabic and Hebrew from the peninsula. Yet Euskara remained.
Lauzirika related to me that Euskaldunak have always fought to keep their language alive in the face of competing languages. The language survives, he believes, because of the way that they conceive of their language. While many peoples consider their territory, religion, or bloodline as the foundation of their home, the Euskaldunak consider their language itself as their homeland.
One can see the concept of language as homeland in the etymology of the term Euskal Herria. The second word, herria refers to a group of people, so it can be variously translated as “nation; country, land; people, population,” or “town, village, settlement.” The first word, Euskal, is the adjective derived from the name of the language, Euskara. Hence, the phrase for Basque Country can be translated as “territory of Euskara-speaking people” or “country of the Euskara language.”
The Euskaldunak held onto their language because it was their language that defined them throughout history. As long as they clung to their language, they could never be displaced from this herria. Their homeland existed in their interactions with their fellow Basque-speakers. As long as they continued that, they were home, whether surrounded by Romans, Arabs, or Frankistak. Language was their homeland, wherever they were.
Nevertheless, Lauzirika emphasized that the language is not entirely safe. He showed me that the territory of Euskal Herria has been shrinking over the past couple centuries. In the time of Napoleon III, the territory of the language was mapped, and so we can see that the area where the language is spoken is now smaller. Euskaldunak must still work to secure their “homeland.”
Adult Euskara education
The Basque government determined that people hired to work in the state must speak Euskara at a certain level. This law incentivizes everyone, of whatever nationality, to speak the language. Moreover, it favors speakers of the language for employment, making speaking the language economically advantageous.
Ikastolak exist for the youngest Euskaldunak. Lauzirika himself came up through a fledgling ikastola in the 1970s, when they became legal after Franco’s death.
A system of Euskara academies for adults also exists throughout Euskal Herria. When I went to the North of Spain in July 2016, I had the opportunity to sit in on Lauzirika’s Euskara class at the Lauaxeta Euskaltegia in Getxo, Spain. They offer various levels of courses, and I sat in on the basic class.
The school
This school belongs to a federation of schools called AEK or “Coordinator to Promote Basque Language and Literacy.” (The link is to a Spanish article. The Euskara article is here.) These institutions promote knowledge of and literacy in Euskara.
The Basque state makes these institutions essential because those working in Euskal Herria require knowledge of Euskara, evaluated by official exams. The State made proficiency in this language a legal requirement for most jobs.
I was able to sit in on the last couple hours of one of the intensive classes. These meet five days per week over the course of a month for four to five hours per day, and are aimed at those who want to pass the official Euskara exam.
I found out that the class aimed at helping locals improve their chances of career success. The class taught about the intricacies of Euskara grammar, and the ability to create and understand sentences that use these structures.
The people
Lauzirika accepted me in quickly, and treated me no differently from the other students. He introduced himself to me in Euskara, then asked me a few questions. Once he saw my blank face, he translated them to me in Spanish, and then he and the other students whispered the answers to me in Euskara. I proudly smiled and pronounced my Euskara responses.
The students were comprised of four men and six women. Their age ranged from about late 20s to early 50s, though there was one gentleman probably a bit older.
We all stated — in Euskara, of course — where we come from. I was surprised to find out that several of them actually came from Euskal Herria. I would have figured they would have learned some in school growing up and would have no need for a basic class.
The lesson
The next part of the class we went over creating complex clauses with “although.” I’m sure we were supposed to be working on some verb mood, but that part was over my head. I was able to create one sentence on my own:
Getxon naizen arren ez dut euskara.
That is, “I’m in Getxo, although I don’t speak Euskara.”
For the other questions, my accommodating teacher and classmates whispered the answers into my ear.
One exercise that captured my imagination covered one of the most difficult aspects of Euskara, that is agreement between the verb and both the subject and object. Those who know European languages are familiar with agreement between the verb and the subject. In French we say, Je chante “I sing,” but Vous chantez “You sing.” Note the difference in verb endings, chante vs chantez. In English we have a vestige of this with “I sing” vs “He sings.”
Euskara, however, agrees not just with the subject but also with the object. So the verb would take a different form between “I see you” and “I see him.”
The exercise was a game like dominoes. (I love getting up and moving when I’m learning, so the exercise grabbed my attention.) All the students stood around a table, “dominoes” in hand. On one end of the “domino” was a combination of pronouns, say, “I-you.” The other end had the verb suffix for a different combination of persons. As soon as I saw the “I-you” verb suffix on the table, I joined my “I-you” pronoun card to the domino track.
The anxiety
During one part of the class, we switched to Spanish. The students were anxious about the exam and wanted to discuss it. The teacher spent some time in Euskara and Spanish to explain the different levels, the time frame for sitting the exams, and the subjects they would cover.
Economic livelihood lay at the back of their mind. I enjoy learning languages. I do so in my spare time. Plus I know English — all I need for decent job in most places. But I don’t have to learn a language to get a good job — or to keep the one I have.
So while this is a language class, it was also a job training class. The goal is to pass an exam. I’m not sure how much they will be speaking the language outside of class.
One woman, though, was pregnant. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her, but I wonder how much her decision to take this class was not just for her but also for her child. Euskara for the next generation!
What will succeed?
At the same time, the goal of “learning” the language is not clear, according to Lauzirika. The fact that someone can learn the obscure grammatical intricacies of this non-Indo-European language, and produce them on a test, does not imply that one can actually “speak.” As anyone who has taken a language class in school knows, taking a test is not speaking spontaneously in the real world.
Ironically, the immigrants to Spain show real success in speaking Euskara. In Euskal Herria one encounters many West African merchants, for example. While many of them arrive multilingual, speaking one or two native languages plus French, they also speak Spanish and Euskara. By walking the streets and talking to people, these immigrants learned to speak Euskara, though not necessarily with grammatical accuracy.
Euskara in the azoka still exists — and is growing. The immigrant learns Euskara when he comes to do business with the Euskaldun, who most likely learned in an ikastola.
You don’t have to isolate Euskaldunak from speakers of other languages for the language to survive. You just have to produce people who love speaking Euskara, who see Euskara, the language itself, as their home. As others enter their home, they will see the necessity of learning the Euskara, whether in the classroom or, even better, on the streets in everyday interactions.
Based on the example of Euskara, language-preservation efforts must aim for the language to be spoken in the marketplace. A language reserved for the hearth and the class will die.
Post-script
The tension is expressed by Tehonwenhniserathe, a young speaker of the endangered Mohawk language, who is working to keep that language alive. He attended the Mohawk equivalent of an ikastola in Upstate New York. From that original article:
“My parents don’t speak Mohawk. I have some aunts and uncles that speak Mohawk, but not my parents,” says Tehonwenhniserathe.
Tehonwenhniserathe is a 17-year-old senior. He started attending the Freedom School when he was 3. Today, he says he’s almost fluent. But maintaining fluency outside of school can be a struggle.
“You don’t hear it a lot in common culture, so every time you leave, it’s usually all in English,” he says.
Remember, Mohawk is still an endangered language, spoken by a minority of the tribe.
“But it makes me want to help more people to be able to speak,” says Tehonwenhniserathe. He says that after he graduates he already has plans to return — this time as a teacher.
