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| [crispy biscuit*] |
On a conceptual basis, purity and heterogeneity seem on the opposite
poles. On the one hand, we have the words pure, clean, unadulterated,
unpolluted and genuine. Pure-bred animals are worth more while
many countries and societies have sought or are seeking racial purity as a
goal. On the other hand, mixing is linked with diluted, cheap, compromised
or hybrid. Mutts and immigrant societies are somehow considered less
attractive and more problematic. However, the reality is that purity is an
ideal that may not even be that beneficial. Pure-bread animals tend have
shorter lives and suffer from more genetic diseases than mixed breeds while
xenophobic societies tend to be less dynamic and flexible in the long term as
compared to immigrant societies. Insistence on purity for its own sake has a
high price.
Regarding this matter, the national language is an essential part of a
country’s patrimoine, national treasure. Yet, like all developing
entities, it has a tendency to naturally borrow from other sources as its
speakers adopt foreign words and phrases. It is interesting to observe how
various countries react and cope with this osmosis of alien terms. Of course,
the current great colonizer is English. Whether through commercial ties or
cultural emissions, people hear and adopt English terms to their own language
and create a manner of expression that often disturbs significant elements of a
population However, in some cases, due to either the extreme need to add terminology
or a tolerant attitude, speakers welcome the newcomers to the existing lexicon.
As I see it, variety, however distasteful it is at first, is the spice of life.
English, the great invader, is itself a
product of sometimes violent amalgamation. It began as a gradual hybrid of
Gaelic and Germanic languages but had to accept a forced marriage with French
due to the Norman invasion. The steady entry of foreign terms has never
stopped, especially for foreign items, including ketchup from Chinese, kangaroo
from Australian aborigines and jubilee from Hebrew, to name just a few
examples. Being a true mutt, English not only accepts words from completely
different languages in the same dictionary but people proudly use them in the
same sentence, bragging what a rich vocabulary they have. The muttier, the
better, it appears.
Alas, the French, especially its national government and its
intellectuals, view the matter completely differently. One of the most important natural
treasures of France is the French language. It is irrelevant that French began
as a local poor man’s version of Latin or that for a long time, one third of
the country spoke another language, langue d’oc. The country is fully mobilized
to protect its language from the anglicisme virus. The Académie
Française actively scours the language for any invaders, rejecting any
English word threatening the existence of a French species. The government
passed the Toubon Law in 1994 to ensure that governments and consumer notices
use proper French in communicating their messages. Of course, leading
intellectuals cringe at the growing use of English words, often with changed
meanings. Yet, they, like most French, go away for le weekend and find it un
challenge de faire face à la revolution digitale, même le email. In practice, the French use
foreign words when they are useful or create a “cool” effect. Pardon my French but merde alors!
By contrast, Hebrew offers little resistance. It is a language with few
roots, frozen for a couple of thousand years and in dire need of modern
terminology. For much of its modern existence, Hebrew was not even the mother tongue
of its speakers. By the time the official Hebrew language academy finishes its
deliberation on the matter, the usage is a fait accompli. As the song goes, let it snow. It has already absorbed
countless foreign words in the past, including Arabic, (al’an, hello),
Persian (kiosk), Turkish (tabu, land registration) and Russian (chupchik,
figamajig). English is just the latest influence. The words are sometimes
distorted in pronunciation e.g., the English bowling is pronounced boweling,
or meaning, e.g., American ice cream and American questions are
actually soft ice cream and multiple choice, respectively, but
these are minor details. Most Israelis greet them as they receive guests in
Hebrew, bruchim ha baim, welcome to our house.
Of course, each culture chooses its level of formal acceptance of
foreign words, especially from English with its colonialist reputation. Yet,
regardless of the official attitude, the true decision makers regarding the
matters are the people actually using the language. I admit
that I do cringe when I hear an Israeli chef say crispy instead of the
Hebrew parich. Yet, fundamentally there is nothing sacrilege in having
more than one word for the same idea, each with its own evolving connotations.
Colette wrote “Le pur and l’impur” showing the complexity of morals. Language
is also far from a black-and-white issue. In fact, sometimes a foreign adopted
child has a certain je ne sais quoi, as they say in English.
* Picture captions allow the blind to full access the Internet.
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