The BP Winter Translation Forum – a feast for the mind

 

[salad ready for preparation*]

This past week, I had the great pleasure of participating both as a speaker and listener in the online BP Winter Translation Forum. With more than 50 lectures in several languages over three days, there was plenty of food for thought for any translator. If one definition of success of a conference is that the participant leaves with one new perspective and one concrete tehcnique to apply, this event far exceeded expectations. Among the various themes, one of the most interesting ones was the active choice to follow one’s passion and choose small niches. The speakers showed that it is possible to combine work and pleasure.

Examples of passion motivating translator choices were Gabriela Kouahla and Jennifer Case. Ms. Kouahla identified and focuses on aspiring academics in North Africa that require assistance in preparing articles for publication. Correspondingly, she actively caters to their needs and payment conditions. She feels part of their long-term success while ensuring her own long term financial stability. In her case, social activism and making a living go hand in hand. Likewise, Ms. Case, an Arabic to English translator, relishes to go where most translators fear to tread, political and social causes. She attempts to fully express the idea, no matter how uncomfortable it may be for some parties in the translation cycle, while challenging public stereotypes. She does not fear criticism and, thus, channels her personal passion into her professional work. For these translators, their belief system fuels their work.

Two of the speakers dissected two large markets and showed the various submarkets that exist. Eman Abdu showed the fascinating and diverse world of Arabic from Morocco to Iraq, highlighting the other languages that influence its modern vocabulary, including Amazigh (Berber), French, English and Italian. She noted that, given the wide range of forms of spoken Arabic, Modern Standard Arabic, a constructed language, serves as a bridge between cultures, a bit like English in India. Also breaking monolithic myths was Heddwan Newton, who illustrated how many types of English exist. These forms include UK and US English but also Australian aborigine and Italian, to name just a few. She highlighted the importance of being aware of the local variances by noting several terms that have rather different meanings depending on the culture, such as tabling a motion and root. From these lecturers, it became clear that each of these language subgroups are potential niches for qualified translators.

Of course, the conference treated many other translation-related topics, including, but fortunately not focusing on, AI. The more “practical lectures” included Chris Durbin’s advice to new translators (once in English and once in French, WOW!), Uri Bruck’s explanation of TM matches and my lecture on email communication when translators make errors. See the program for a complete list of all the lectures. To those whose names I did not mention, it is because I was unable to either attend the presentation or ran out of room in this post. Please do not be offended. I wish to thank Csaba Bán and his staff for an amazingly smooth experience.

Overall, the BP Winter Translation Forum was well organized, informative and wide-ranging. Almost without exception, the lecturers were organized and knowledgeable (the first is not a given taking into the account the introverted nature of many translators). There was a plenty of food for thought for one and all. I look forward to attending more such conferences.

* Picture captions help the blind fully access the Internet.

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Supreme difficulty

One of the main pleasures of legal translation is the story. Specifically, because there is a dispute, each side argues its point of view. This discussion is often fascinating and illuminating. Of course, the peak of such argumentation involves decisions of the Supreme Court.  Since I translate from Hebrew into English, I have learned the discretion can be better part of valor when it comes to taking on translation of Israeli Supreme Court decisions.

As compared to the structure of the American legal system, the Israeli Supreme Court is much more active and controversial. The reason is that a petitioner can access the high court in two manners. The court serves a court of last appeal, as in the United States. In addition, any citizen whose rights may be in danger of being breached may directly petition the Israeli Supreme Court to request a court order, which must hear the case, unlike in the United States. This is someone similar to the American process of filing a request for a restraining order in a state or federal district court. However, the Supreme Court has more freedom and thus can issue new interpretations of the law. Since these “emergency” situations generally involve complicated situations, such as immigration or destruction of property, the results of these appeals are of interest to both the legal and general community.  To give an example, if Benjamin Netanyahu succeeds in forming a government after the March elections, the Supreme Court undoubtedly will undoubtedly have to decide whether a prime minister, as compared to a minister, under indictment can legally serve, an issue regarding which current Israeli law is silent. Therefore, decisions of the Israeli Supreme Court are almost always relevant and controversial.

The justices must be extremely erudite. As a crossroads of multiple cultures and regimes, Israeli law is strange mélange of legal principles. In the United States in the states of Louisiana and Hawaii, certain matters actually follow the principles of Napoleonic and native law, respectively. In Israel, the situation is much more complex. Modern Israeli law, enacted since 1948, governs many but not all matters and is often vague or incomplete, whether intentionally or unintentionally. The regulations applying these laws sometimes take years to enter the books, complicating the issues even more.  The British ruled the territory from 1918 to 1948 and established many basic laws, some of which have not been replaced. The Ottomans ruled the region from 1517 to 1917 and had a complete set of laws. Unfortunately, the Turkish rules still have a strong influence on the procedures of land ownership. Even more relevant, religious laws still regulate marriage and divorce (but not custody) to the point of the existence of a separate special religious court system for Jews, Christians and Muslims, all applying ancient law. If none of these sources are clear, judges can refer to either modern American law, which does have a strong influence on legal reasoning, or, paradoxically, ancient Jewish law. To explain, the Halacha and Talmud, to name just the main sources, are interpretations of the Bible, similar to the body of interpretations on the Universal Commercial Code (UCC) in the United States.  Any decision supported by reasoning from these deeply respected sources has great weight. So, Israeli judges must have broad knowledge, way beyond current Israel laws and regulations.

Adding to the fun of reading and translating the decisions of the Israeli Supreme Court is the sheer number of languages that must be taken into account. Israeli law is in Hebrew. The application of the British colonial laws requires solid knowledge of English. Furthermore, many terms in Turkish law still are used in Israeli law, such as tabu, meaning registered ownership of land. Applying Islamic law requires knowledge of Arabic while Talmudic law requires understanding of Aramaic, an ancient language related to Hebrew. As American and British law traditionally use Latin terms to render the language fancier, judges must also be thoroughly familiar with that language. So, the learned judges of the Israeli Supreme Court must have thorough knowledge of Hebrew, English, Turkish, Aramaic, Latin and even sometime Arabic legal language.  It should be noted that many do not hesitate to demonstrate this mastery in their decisions.

Thus, the intrepid translator, facing some 200 pages or more of legal arguments from this huge corpus of sources, has to understand and transmit their meaning into English. For this reason, I have the greatest respect for those that successfully and artfully translate Israeli Supreme Court decisions into English.  I personally will only translate decisions up to the appeals court level and leave the Supreme Court decisions to the supremely talented and knowledgeable few who can properly handle them.

Divinely great but confusing

A few days ago, as I was driving along the main road to Acco and passing a neighboring Arab village, I noticed a message painted on the exterior of a house in clear white English letters: God is great.  My initial reaction was not theological but linguistic.  In other words, I wondered which God the houseowner meant.

To explain, if the letters had been in Arabic and read Allah Akbar, I would have known the sign was referring to the Moslem God. Likewise, the sign saying Dieu est grand in France would be referring to the Catholic God although the same sign in Algeria would probably refer to Allah. However, back to our allah akbar, in Iraq, it is not clear whether the Shiite or Sunni master is the subject of the sign.

For that matter, a German Gott ist groß is no less ambivalent as Germany is historically a mixture of Protestant and Catholic provinces. By contrasts, in the American south, that sign in English would most probably refer to the Baptist or other Protestant diety. Likewise, in Spain or South America, Dios es grande is directed at the Catholic commander-in-chief.

The Hebrew version possesses another question.  While there is no dispute among Jews about the identity of the Chief Engineer (we focus our disputes on what exactly he wants us to do), the expression Elohim Gadol has two twists. For some, it imbibes the omnipotence of God.  However, the term is also used in slang to express a complete lack of control.  For example, if asked whether the contractor will finish the job on time, someone could answer Elohim gadol, the English equivalent being God knows.

So, upon seeing that sign, I responded in a typical Israel way: Yes, but.  That is I did not formally disagree but immediately complicated the issue.  Theology can be so confusing.

Going native

Natural and foreign are relative concepts.  A good example of that is my personal perception of foreign language use in Israel. I will explain.

Hebrew is official language and, more importantly, the language of daily use for almost 75% of the residents of Israel.  Thus, in contrast to pre-State Israel, speaking Hebrew is a natural act for most Israelis.

 Likewise, at the college where I teach, Muslim, Christian and Druze Arabs speak Arabic to each other as they would do naturally in their own villages and families.  That makes complete sense.

In my neighborhood, there are many Ethiopians. In the morning, I can hear from my office the older generation talking to each other in Amharit as they sit on the benches surrounding the playground.  Many barely know Hebrew. So, Amharit as a language belongs to Israel.

Likewise, in cafes and squares, older Hungarians and Romanians sit and discuss the world in their mother tongue as they have for some 50 years, at least.  As the song notes, this is a tradition.

French is also heard throughout Israel. Older immigrants from North Africa and recent ones from France are more comfortable using their mother tongue than their adopted tongue, something I can understand.

In ultra-religious neighborhoods throughout Israel, but mainly in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and Zefat, the street language is Yiddish because Hebrew is a holy language that should not be used on banal matters. While I would disagree politically, I have to respect a person’s choice to use a language.

All this brings us to English. Immigrants from numerous English-speaking countries have come to Israel, including myself.  Many came as families with English as the language of communication in the house. Not only that, there is no need to learn Hebrew as almost everybody can understand English. Yet, for some reason, I find the use of English in the street foreign and even offensive, however illogical that is.

The only reason I can find for this feeling is that I am imposing my ideology on my fellow Anglo-Saxons. Specifically, I came to Israel determined to be Israeli and use Hebrew in my personal life.  While I teach English in English, I have always spoken Hebrew with my family and friends. It is a matter of pride. I find it lazy and unacceptable for English speaking immigrants not to try to speak Hebrew. Of course, I don’t hold that standard to speakers of other languages.  That is another story, isn’t it? So, I concur with Bertrand Russel who said, “"Man is a rational animal — so at least I have been told.”

[Rendering of an ancient picture of the Tower of Babel from a 2500 year old, one of four such images from http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2080375/One-earliest-drawings-Tower-Babel-ancient-stone-tablet.html]

Middle Eastern Languages

National languages seem like inevitable facts. The language of your country is like your dominant hand. You don’t choose it.  However, the modern Middle East shows how that seeming passiveness is an illusion.  Due to the area serving as a corridor between Asia, Europe and Africa, the Middle East has been host to countless empires, each imposing its own language.  To choose to speak a language different from your occupiers is a political statement.

Egypt, for example, was technically part of the Ottoman Empire for several centuries until World War I.  Its administrators were Turkish, often Kurds.  Thus, Turkish was the official language of communication in Egypt.  It was only in the 19^th century that a few intrepid Egyptians starting publishing newspapers in Arabic.  The Turks gave Arabic the same status as the French have given French Creole, a bastard language at best.  As part of the nationalist movement in Egypt, Arabic was used as a way of expressing Egyptian pride. So, the fact that Arabic is the official language of Egypt is an act of will.

That will is even more evident in the status of Hebrew in Israel.  Hebrew was a hibernating language for 2000 years, maintained only as in its written form.  Variants of Yiddish and Ladino were the lingua franca of Diaspora Jews in addition to the official language of the land.  The revival of Hebrew as an active language was an explicitly political act to create a Jewish identity and part of the overall program to create a Jewish state, a wild dream in the 19^th and early 20^th century.  The Turks, followed by the Brits, ruled this area until 1948, imposing their language for administrative purposes.  To learn and speak Hebrew in the 1920 and 1930’s was a statement of identity.  Later, the imposition of Hebrew became part of the plan of creation of the New Israeli (as compared to the Diaspora Jew),  a Jew whose cultural and linguistic past was cut off.  For practical purposes, to be Israeli meant and means that you try to speak Hebrew.  Accent and accuracy are irrelevant – listen how many of the Israeli’s early leaders spoke – as long as a person showed the intention to “fit in.” Still, the reality for the early generations of Israelis was quite different.  To demonstrate, in the Technion, there was a serious proposal to make German the language of instruction as most of the professors were German. Today, even Moslem, Christian and Druze Israeli, who daily language is Arabic, all speak Hebrew to the point that their Arabic has many Hebrew words inserted into it. The choice to make Hebrew the daily language was a conscious use of a language to establish identity, which was successful.

So, as people shape the physical world around them, they also influence their linguistic space.  There is nothing inevitable about it, especially in the Middle East.