An interesting and provocative article in the Times http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20120125/opinion/The-rise-of-Maltenglish.403787
which recalled Antonio Muscat Fenech, one of the pioneers of Maltese
orthography, revived the argument about how English words assimilated into
spoken Maltese should be written. The author, like many others, is under the
impression that il-Kunsill tal-Malti
has already decided the matter. In fact, the question is still under discussion
as can be clearly seen on il-Kunsill’s
website http://www.kunsilltalmalti.gov.mt/.
Among language experts, authors, and
users of the language opinions differ: should we write “microwave”, microwave or majkrowejv? Should we try and come up with another term using Maltese’s own resources,
like forn tal-mewġ mikro?
There are those who believe that
the heavy influx of foreign words is mostly due to laziness: people simply
cannot be bothered to think of the correct native term and opt for the word
which comes to mind first. The process is so rapid that scholars, assuming they
were so inclined and actually could draw upon the necessary resources, do not even have the time to coin an
acceptable alternative before the word has embedded itself firmly into
linguistic consciousness.
Even if alternatives to the foreign
(mostly English) words exist, one can
only go as far as suggesting which
word people should use; ultimately the decision about which one to adopt is made by the speakers of the language,
although that choice would be influenced by linguistic ability, the value given
to culture, and the environment. Some of
the environmental factors can be controlled (broadcasting, the way Government
communicates through its administrative machinery and, the most crucial of all,
the educational system) but the level of control depends on political will and
on the availability of resources. The apparent laziness is probably partly the
result of pressures exerted on each of us by psycho-social forces, and partly
due to our mastery of the foreign language which no longer pushes us towards
giving a Maltese form to the foreign word like we used to do in the pre-war
days when we turned delfino into delfin, and fire into fajjar.
Once the word enters the language
it is difficult to avoid writing it in some context or other; its existence has
to be acknowledged as part of the living language. Lovers of language may
seethe (not too strong a word to describe the reaction of those for whom the aesthetics of language are
important) when a word like baby/bejbi replaces a perfectly adequate word like tarbija, and bajsikil/bicycle begins to supplant rota but linguists cannot not recognise their existence, nor can writers
simply refuse to use them, otherwise the dichotomy between the written and
the spoken language would reach truly ridiculous proportions.
Deciding how to write that word is
not always easy. While words derived from Italian normally fit well within
Maltese and adapt seamlessly, words of English origin enjoy no such affinity
with our language. Therefore, one either accepts apparent monstrosities like majkrowejv or (God help us) fajerenġin. or else one opts for italicised words or words within inverted comma, which would mean whole tracts of a scientific
or technical nature written in this awkward way.
The first of these two is the one
which raises the hackles of so many people: the Maltese being so familiar with
English wince when they see words they know so well written in an alien manner
–and they react, probably in knee-jerk fashion, without considering the matter
thoroughly. How else could one explain the suggestion put forward by the author
of the Times article that conjugated words like niskorja and niffajlja should
be written niscoreja and nissaveja, that is to say utilising
a hybrid spelling? This in an article decrying the use of Maltenglish!
Perhaps there is still a very slim
chance of finding a way out of this quandary, without resorting to solutions the
March Hare would probably consider bizarre: the creation of a culture where organic linguistic
development – which would involve the creation of new terms by scholars the use of which use would then be fully promoted by official bodies and all the media - can
thrive. For this to happen, political and social forces have to unite in a
concerted effort to create this environment. The ground is, however, far from
fertile.
Were one to pay attention to the
cliché-ridden declarations regarding Maltese emanating from the mouths and
key-boards of politicians and other prominent people on the island one would be
think that the powers-that-be and people who matter are overwhelmed with love
and respect for the national language. Scratch beneath the platitudes, however, and
you’ll discover that their words are, well, just that – words, uttered for the
sake of being heard to make the right sounds and for no other reason.
Take the Education Department,
for instance. You would think that, of all the Government entitities, this one
would grant priority to the national language, given, inter alia, that it is the one charged with its formal generational
transmission. Have a look at
its web-site: at first glance it would appear that Maltese is utilised quite extensively. All the titles of the different pages are in Maltese. Then click on any of these
Maltese-entitled links and you will find that, with very few exceptions, the
content is in English.
This provides an extremely telling
metaphor for many of the institution’s attitudes towards our language: apparently respectful for appearance’s sake,
scornfully dismissive in substance.The media are not much better: if pressed
hard they will comply with the directives to write Maltese correctly, but they
could not care less about their presenter’s linguistic capability. In this sort
of environment we can forget about developing native words for new terms, at
least in the short term. Despite the availability of technical expertise in the shape of a few top-notch linguists,
the nation lacks the moral, intellectual and institutional wherewithal for such an
enterprise to bear fruit.
So, how are we to treat these linguistic
immigrants? This is my opinion for what it’s worth: all those foreign words we
conjugate like niskorja, tiffajljaw, ibboksja,
ikkowċajtu etc - should be written according to Maltese orthographic
rules. The same goes for their stem-words - skor, fajl, boksing,
kowċ etc. Words which have long entered Maltese, or are by now well-established, like kowt, futbol, friġġ, maws, kompjuter, should
be written in the Maltese alphabet. Il-Kunsill
might have to update this list every now and then. Complex English words which
fit in very awkwardly with the structure of written Maltese, like fire-engine, air-conditioner and birdwatching should be written in
English, but italicised.
This would leave the problem of technical
(e.g. ICT) publications in Maltese which would contain a great deal of words in
italicised form. It is unfortunate
but inevitable, in the short term.
In the long-term, there might
just be the solution most of us desire: rational and concrete political action
which could create the climate where the institutions and the media work together
with academics, authors and educationists to foster organic linguistic
development. This will only happen when pressure is brought to bear upon those
in power. We have to lobby politicians to make them aware that we want action.
Given recent political developments, the time is ripe.
