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.

Dance accounting – Karmiel Dance Festival 2019

The Karmiel Dance Festival has come and gone. I was able to attend two performances, one being a potpourri of international troupes, whose actual names we were never mentioned. They came from Mexico, Brazil, Serbia, Turkey, Russian and China (as well a local group of Yemenite dancers). Each performed two dances. Like all good smorgasbords, while all came were good, I did not enjoy each one equally. The interesting aspect, in retrospect, is the reasons for my preferences.

The groups from Mexico and Brazil both performed long couple suites. The costumes were colorful and flowing while the music had a nice dancing pace. However, the dancers from Mexico were energetic and enthusiastic. Their faces expressed the joy they felt in dancing.  Couple dancing is fundamentally erotic foreplay.  In their case, I could imagine them celebrating the dance in private. By contrast, the Brazilian group seemed distant from the audience and each other, with a few exceptions.  In my mind, good dancing goes beyond technical skill and must involve getting into the spirit of the music.

Two Balkan (in the dance meaning of the word) dance groups appeared. As I have been dancing such dances for over 40 years, I can say that the Serbian and Turkish troupes were both very authentic in both costumes and style. Regarding the latter, the steps are small, precise and often quite quick, which is deceiving simple to execute. Yet, I had a strong preference for the Serbian group as their dancing felt as if it was genuinely being done in a small village by people who know each other and enjoy each other’s company. By contrast, the Turkish dance, whether because I am not fond of the sounds of traditional Turkish instruments or the steps are so understated, seemed flat and out of context to me. Traditional folk dancing is a social act, like going on a walk with friends, and should express that context.

The Chinese and Russian troupes were more theatrical and performed more choreographed and sophisticated dances. They were both quite skillful whether in terms of the ability to jump, float around the stage or control their hand movements. Still, I enjoyed the Chinese more than the Russian. The reason may be that it was more novel to me, never having really seen Chinese dance before, but I also enjoyed the image being represented, life in the spring, I think. Between the costumes and the movement, it took me away in some manner. The Russian dances involved the standard songs and steps made famous by the Red Army Orchestra.  The steps involve primarily physical skill but seem, maybe unfairly, a cliché. In my eyes, performance dancing must somehow open our eyes to something new.

None of the performances were poor.  Yet, I preferred those that expressed a spirit, context or idea. As they say in Hebrew, על טעם וריח אין להתווכח  [Al ta’am vereah ain lehitvakei’ah], which means you can’t argue with taste and smell, or French, chacun à son gout; in short, in dancing, there is no accounting for taste, even if I try to understand my own.

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.