See also other languages'
versions:
We
can approach the world language problem in many
different ways; for example, politically, linguistically,
financially and economically and so on. Probably
because of the distortions of my professional
training I approach it from a psychological point
of view. I believe that the importance of this
point of view has not been correctly understood.
Esperantists
often complain that the world does not understand
their point of view or that it is not interested
in it, or that Esperanto is not making good enough
progress. It is very easy for Esperantists to
blame each other for this. In my opinion, these
kinds of negative feelings are not at all justified
when you take into account the psychological aspects
of the situation. In other words, as I see it,
Esperanto is progressing at a normal rate even
though it may actually regress for, let us say,
ten years at a time. In addition to this, awareness
of the world language problem is also progressing
at a normal rhythm, the rhythm of history.
The
widespread idea that Esperantists have, that their
cause is not going forward fast enough, has its
source in one of the most important parts of the
human psyche, that is: desire. We want
Esperanto to go forward, and we react to that
desire like a little child; we do not want to
see all of the obstacles that stand like great
walls between our desires and their fulfillment.
So we feel frustrated. When we feel frustrated,
instead of facing the fact that we were not realistic
in the first place and, because of that, that
the mistake was our own, we look outside of ourselves
for people to blame; those will be the outside
world which does not pay attention to us or in
those bunglers in the Esperanto world who fail
to act effectively and purposefully.
This
is childish. When I say this I am not being critical.
I am only expressing something about the way the
human psyche normally works; when strong desires
emerge, we tend to act like little children. Impatience
because Esperanto is not making enough progress
and looking around for guilty parties to blame
is completely normal and natural. This is how
normal adults react in most areas of their lives.
We are really mature only in some aspects of our
lives. In many areas, such as politics, metaphysics
and human relations, we continually react like
little children.
Society does not understand
Back
when I said that the world does not understand
us, I was touching on a psychological aspect of
the situation. Why doesn't the world understand
us? Because society in general does not understand
the language situation. But why? There are plenty
of reasons. One of them is because linguistic
relations are complex, and it is not easy to understand
something that is complex. When something is very
complicated, simplification is the natural way
of dealing with it. Consequently, society in general
has a very simplified picture of the world language
situation. A picture that is really a sketch.
Another
psychological reason why the world does not understand
the language problem is fear. This might surprise
you. And, in fact, if you were to tell a politician
or a linguist or the man in the street that one
of the reasons why the world does not solve its
language problem is fear, they will look at you
as though you are crazy. First of all, because
for them the language problem simply does not
exist. "English takes care of it, or the
translators do." And, besides, on the whole,
if there were a problem, it is absolutely clear
that it has nothing to do with fear. "Nobody
feels fear about a language. What is this nonsense?"
That is what they will tell you.
However,
many fears are unconscious. We are not aware of
them, which is a good thing because otherwise
because otherwise we would not be able to live
comfortably. But the fact remains that these fears
create a lot of distortions, misleading us about
our way of understanding reality.
Why
does a language evoke fear? Again, there are many
reasons. For example, our language is closely
linked to our identity. One day, during childhood,
we suddenly realize that the people around us
are speaking a particular language, and that language
defines us in relation to the rest of the world.
I, myself, as a native French-speaker from Switzerland,
belong to a group that is defined by the language
that it speaks. So, in the depths of the psyche,
my language is me. The widespread use of
the Swiss-German dialect is a way of saying: this
is who we are; we are not Germans.
Or look at how the Flemish or the Catalans react:
"If they persecute or criticize my language,
they are persecuting or criticizing me."
Many
people tend to reject Esperanto because they sense
that it is a language without a particular people
and because of this a language without human identity,
and so, perhaps, not a language at all, or a language
which is some kind of a fabrication without a
human quality, a language which is to real languages
as a robot is to real people. And that scares
them. The fear is that this robot, which, people
say, wants to become universal, is going to trample
underfoot all other languages, all the peoples
of the world, everything that is individual and
alive, destroying everything as it goes. This
might seem fantastic to you. However, it is the
truth. The existence of this unconscious fear,
which a great many people have, is uncovered by
the psychological method called clinical free
association in which you investigate the ideas
or pictures that are associated with each other
when you ask a person to tell what is going through
their mind when they hear a particular word (in
this case, "Esperanto".)
Identity with the international language
One
of the problems that Esperantists have stems from
that fact that Esperanto has certain characteristics
which makes it different from all other foreign
languages, namely, that it favors identification
with itself. A Swede who speaks English with a
Korean and a Brazilian feels that he is a Swede
who is using English; he does not assume a special
identity as "a speaker of English".
On the other hand, a Swede who speaks Esperanto
with a Korean and a Brazilian feels that he is
an Esperantist and that the other two are also
Esperantists, and that the three of them belong
to a special cultural group. Even if non-native-speakers
speak English very well, they do not feel that
this ability bestows an Anglo-Saxon identity on
them. But with Esperanto something quite different
occurs. Why?
As
usually happens in the field we are examining
today, many complex factors play a role. Perhaps
the most important of these is that Esperanto
becomes integrated into the human psyche integrates
Esperanto at a deeper level than other foreign
language. Not at once, not with beginners, but
with those whom Janton calls "mature Esperantists",
those who have enough experience with the language
to feel at home in it. Why is it located deeper
in the psyche? Because, more than any other human
language, Esperanto follows the natural tendencies
of the human brain when people want to express
themselves.
Our
most basic tendency, when we learn a language,
is to generalize the traits of the language
which we are learning. That is why every English-speaking
young child says "foots" instead of
"feet" and "he comed" instead
of "he came". That is why every French-speaking
young child expresses the idea of "horses"
by saying "des cheval" before they learn
the correct term, "des chevaux" and
express the concept of "you're doing"
by saying "vous faisez" before they
learn "vous faites". In Esperanto you
just cannot make these kinds of mistakes. Because
of this, new Esperantists quickly attain a sense
of security when they use the language.
Besides,
in Esperanto people are much freer than in other
languages. This is true about the way words are
put together. In English you have to say "he
helps me"; in French you say, literally,
"he me helps"; in German, "he helps
to me". In each of these languages there
is one obligatory structure, only one. In Esperanto
you can freely choose any one of the three.
The
same is true about choosing the part of speech
of a word in a sentence. You can often choose
to use a word as any one of these parts of speech:
noun, verb, adverb, or adjective. For example,
you can use the word "automobilo" as
a noun saying "Mi venis per automobilo"
(I came by car). You can also, by changing the
ending, turn "automobilo" into the adverb
"automobile" (pronounced, automobil-eh)
and say "Mi venis automobile" which
means, literally, "I came automobiley".
In Esperanto this sounds perfectly natural. You
can also turn it into a verb by using a different
ending and say: "Mi automobilis" which
literally means "I automobiled", and,
again, this sounds perfectly natural in Esperanto.
You do not have to do this. You can if you want
to.
Very
few languages provide the means which makes this
kind of freedom possible. Even when a language
does so, in many cases the user of the language
do not have the right to use them.
Besides
in Esperanto circles people are very tolerant
about mistakes in grammar and vocabulary, much
more than people are when it comes to other languages.
Forgetting to use the accusative ending or using
it incorrectly is practically seen as a normal
thing, maybe because it almost never gets in the
way of understanding. Only a few purists make
a scene over these kinds of mistakes. However,
they do not really belong to normal Esperanto
circles. (Attention: Please do not take these
remarks about linguistic errors as a recommendation.
I am acting here purely as an observer.) In other
words, there is no connection between using the
language perfectly and identifying with it. People
can feel themselves to be Esperantists even though
they always leave out the accusative ending.
All
of this plus the freedom to put together word-elements
to make up new words as you like (something that
you cannot do in many languages) creates an atmosphere
of freedom. This puts the language in the deepest
part of the psyche, much closer to its core and
its basis in instinct.
It
is easier to be spontaneous in Esperanto than,
for example, in English, because you have fewer
arbitrary prohibitions to deal with. Because of
this people more easily feel authentically themselves.
Because of these kinds of traits, Esperanto roots
itself more profoundly in the psyche than other
foreign languages, and, because of this, people
feel a much stronger tendency to identify with
it. However, people who do not belong to the Esperanto
world cannot understand this. They cannot understand
this identification. That is why the attitude
of many Esperantists seems to be crazy to them,
or at least very strange. Because of this identification
with the language, when others criticize Esperanto
or even the very idea of an international language,
Esperantists easily feel under attack. Attacking
the language means attacking them, and their natural
reaction is to counterattack, sometimes very sharply.
This is something that non-Esperantists simply
do not understand. So, in these normal reactions
of Esperantists, non-Esperantists see something
overly intense, too strong, proof of a sort of
fanaticism which to them seems to be the only
possible explanation of such exaggerated reactions.
Two Categories
As
I see it, psychologically Esperantists fall into
one of two categories. On the one hand there are
people who are not well adapted to communal life,
who feel themselves somewhat isolated from what
is currently fashionable, from society, from the
prevailing ideas and ways of acting. They are
individuals who have gotten used to the fact that
they are different from most people or who feel
themselves rejected by most people. It is not
easy to take on the burden of the fundamental
solitude of human existence. That is why people
who feel themselves different from the majority
tend to group together and, with others like themselves,
form a community in which they can feel at home.
They then get together and keep on telling each
other how right they are and how wrong the exterior
world is. This is perfectly normal and human.
Esperanto gives many who are not well adapted
to society a place where they can find others
like themselves who are also not well adapted,
a place where it is possible to find the consolations
and the strengths they need in order to make life
more bearable. This was especially true in the
period after the first hopes for an immediate
world-wide adoption of Esperanto were shown to
be illusory and before the body of arguments favorable
to Esperanto became sufficiently strong and factual;
in other words, between the First World War and
the seventies and eighties. A large percentage
of the Esperantists of that period consisted of
neurotics, that is, individuals who had either
more emotional problems or greater emotional problems
than you find in an ordinary person.
We
owe an enormous debt to those neurotics, to those
individuals who suffered from crippling emotional
problems, because without their efforts the language
would have simply died off. It is naïve and
unjust to look down on them, as some proponents
of the "Manifesto of Rauma" do. In the
historical circumstances in which they found themselves,
those rather sectarian wearers of the Green Star
were needed so that the language might develop.
Normal people could not get interested in Esperanto
and use it and keep it alive. If the language
were not in constant use, if nobody wrote in it,
if it were not utilized in correspondence, meetings,
and congresses (even if these consisted mainly
of eccentrics) it would not have been able to
develop its linguistic and literary strengths,
it would not have been able to enrich itself,
it would not have been able to gradually lead
to a deeper analysis of the world language problem.
I am convinced that after some centuries historians
will consider these people to have rendered an
enormous service to mankind by keeping the language
alive and developing it, even though their motives
in part lay in a kind of psychological pathology.
Besides
the neurotics, the eccentrics about whom I have
just spoken, Esperanto attracted people whose
personalities were especially strong. People who
enjoy full mental health can be part of a nonconforming
group only if their personalities are so healthy
that they can face the great majority basing their
positions on foundations that are so clear, so
well-tested, of such consequence that they can
feel that they are right without being arrogant
about it. Happily, many people of this sort were
found in the Esperanto world from the very beginning.
One of them, for example, was Edmond Privat. We
owe a great debt to them too, because they helped
things go forward and because, in various circles,
they gradually demonstrated that Esperantists
were not only a bunch of fanatic oddballs.
Clearly,
the two categories have an intersection, people
who have more or more serious neurotic traits
than the average man does but who also possess
personalities that are especially strong, personalities
that are often strengthened by the ongoing need
that these individuals have to train themselves
to live in environments to which they do not conform
or are not fully adapted.
A Paradox: Where lies Mental Health
Here
we confront a paradox: for a long time the Esperanto
world consisted in large part of people who suffered
from a psychological pathology but who had an
entirely healthy mental attitude regarding linguistic
communication while society in general consisted
of people who were maybe, relatively, more normal
psychologically, but who held to a completely
neurotic, pathological – I might even say crazy
– position about linguistic communication.
What
makes it possible for us to make such a drastic
assertion? It is the fact that society in general
presents all of the symptoms of a psychopathology
in its relation to linguistic communication.
What
do normal people do when they feel a need? They
act to satisfy that need by using the most effective,
agreeable and timely means available. Imagine
someone who is hungry. He has a wallet in his
pocket filled with money. He finds himself in
a neighborhood with a lot of food stores and restaurants.
If he is normal, he steps into one of these and
buys some food or orders a meal and he quickly
satisfies his hunger. What would you think of
a person who, instead of acting like this, goes
to the train station, buys a ticket for a place
two hundred miles away, and after arriving walks
a long way through the countryside to a small
restaurant that has mediocre food? What would
you think about that kind of person who, because
of his strange approach to his problem, continues
to go hungry for hours and winds up in the end
with something that is not very satisfying, spending
a hundred times more money than was necessary?
Everybody would diagnose this particular behavior
as neurotic, as pathological. Why act in such
a complicated way that does nobody any good when
it was possible to easily and straightforwardly
satisfy the hunger. In the field of linguistic
communication Esperantists act like the first
person, the rest of the world, like the second
person.
The existence of resistance confirms the diagnosis
Maybe
you have some doubts about whether this behavior
is really pathological and you need confirmation
of the diagnosis. Well, we know that one of the
characteristics of these kinds of pathology is
resistance. A person who has these kinds
of pathological traits will do anything in order
to not become conscious of the fact that they
are not behaving sanely, that they could act in
an entirely different way that would be much more
agreeable and useful. Sometimes, it is true, the
individual recognizes that the behavior is abnormal
but claims, "Yes, I know that acting in this
way is strange, not normal, even pathological,
but I can't help it." This refusal to accept
the fact that the behavior is abnormal, or maintaining
that it cannot be changed is called "resistance".
Well,
it is interesting to see that the way in which
linguistic communication is organized in our world
has all of the characterizations of pathological
behavior. Esperanto exists. It makes it possible
for people to communicate in a way that is much
less expensive than simultaneous interpretation,
that is much fairer than just using English, that
is much more comfortable than using any other
language, and all this comes after a considerably
smaller investment of time, money and energy on
the part of the people and on the part of the
state. In other words it is a direct way of satisfying
the need. But instead of using it, society opts
for a very complicated and extremely expensive
path. It forces millions of children to spend
year after year studying foreign languages that
are so difficult that only one out of a hundred,
on the average, in Europe and one out of a thousand
in Asia are able to effectively use the language
after all their studies. After the investment
of so much effort and nervous energy and time
and money teaching languages, the outcome is that
the problem of inequality is not solved and the
linguistic barriers have been so poorly dealt
with that it is necessary to invest yet more millions
and millions of dollars in order to create translations
in dozens of languages and to bring about simultaneous
interpretation without which the people would
not be able to understand each other at all. This
is crazy. It is crazy to use people's time, money,
effort in such a bungling ineffective manner when
it is possible to avoid all of this. By behaving
in this way, society shows itself to be pathological.
But
what confirms that we are dealing with an authentic
case of psychopathology is this: if you draw the
attention of journalists, decision-makers, public
figures, people in authority to the way that social
life is organized and try to get them to see that
the system is crazy and that there is a mentally
sane manner in which people can communicate, a
way that is much more easily reached, then you
discover that you have provoked resistance. The
people refuse to consider what you are trying
to draw their attention to, they refuse to investigate
the matter, they brush the testimonials and the
proofs before they get to know them. This
word "before" is important, because
it provides the proof that the diagnosis is correct;
it bears witness to the resistance. Those in authority
prefer to not know that there is another way of
communicating between peoples than that which
they have foisted upon billions of men and women.
They are afraid to confront the truth. And because
they do not want to see that they are afraid,
which itself provides further proof about the
neurotic, pathological character of their conduct,
they employ every pretext to not open up an inquiry.
So these public figures refuse something not knowing
that they are refusing; they fear, not knowing
that they are afraid; they cause embarrassment,
injustice, frustration, and needless striving,
expense, taxes, all kinds of complications and
a considerable amount of suffering (I allude,
among others, to refugees for whom the lack of
a means of linguistic communication is often the
cause of very specific suffering), they cause
all of this not knowing that they are causing
all of this. This is a very serious social pathology.
But very few people notice this and understand
it.
A Taboo
In
fact, the entire field of linguistic communication
between peoples and between states is touched
by a taboo. If you study the documents which are
produced about this area, you find out that far
more than 99 percent of them were written as though
Esperanto simply did not exist, as though mankind
had no experience of a means of international
communication other than the usual ones of translation,
interpretation or the use of a prestigious national
language such as English. Esperanto is taboo.
This was repeatedly seen a little while ago in
Brussels, in the European Parliament, during a
session of the so-called International Commission
which dealt with the question of (mis)communication
in the European Union. What proves that we are
dealing with something taboo is that they refused
to make a comparison.
In
science, when investigators want to ascertain
the value of something, they always make a comparison
with a reference. Before making a decision about
a new medication, scientists compare its efficacy
with others that are already well known. And when
a decision is to be made about a major piece of
construction, such as building a new stadium,
what do people do? They put out a call for bids.
They invite the various firms to submit proposals,
and then they compare the various proposals
so they can choose the one that is best according
to its cost-benefit ratio as well as other criteria
which must be considered. This is the normal procedure.
In fact there exists a particular scientific method
about the art of decision-making involving the
selection of the best way possible of reaching
a particular goal. This scientific method is called
"operational research". It was born
during the Second World War as a means of choosing
the best way to transport goods or people with
the greatest speed and the least risk. Well, if
the rules of operational research are applied
to the language problem, it will be found that
of all of the methods which can be presently observed
in practice, the optimum one for attaining the
goal is Esperanto. But in order to discover this,
you have to compare the various systems with each
other and so see objectively, in practice ("on
the ground", as they say today) how effective
Esperanto is compared to using gestures, to trying
to talk in a language which has not been mastered,
to using English, to translating documents and
interpreting speeches either simultaneously or
afterwards, to the use of Latin etc. Only when
you make this kind of comparison can you figure
out which is the best system.
But,
although many thousands of pages can be found
in documents that deal with the language situation,
some in the UN, others in the European Union,
others in the linguistics departments of universities,
and so on, the documents which approach the problem
by making comparisons, including Esperanto, number
less than your fingers. Because comparing the
various possible solutions to the problem is something
that is so common in other fields, its absence
in the field of international linguistic communication
demonstrates that a taboo is working.
What are the roots of the taboo?
Why
this pathological approach to the language problem?
Again there are many causes. There are political
causes. The idea that people who are among the
least talented intellectually could freely communicate
across national lines is repugnant to many states.
There are societal reasons. This same possibility
is repugnant to the privileged social classes.
People who have a pretty good command of English
or of some other important language enjoy many
advantages over those who only speak some local
languages; they certainly do not want to give
up these advantages. This is particularly apparent
in the so-called Third World.
However,
I believe that the main causes of this taboo have
to do with the psyche. The heart of the problem
lies in the emotional weight, burden, aura of
the concept of "language", in its ability
to affect the deepest fibers of our soul. We think
with concepts or words. And the words and concepts
are not merely intellectual entities, they have
certain emotional qualities to them. Not all of
them, but a lot of them. If I say "war"
or "money" or "mother" or
"sex" or "atomic energy",
something vibrates deeply in you, although you
are normally not aware of it. In other words,
we are not indifferent when we face most of our
concepts, chiefly those which in some way are
connected to our desires, needs, aspirations,
pleasures, suffering, power etc.
Among
these concepts with a strong emotional aura is
the concept "language". Why? Because
the language evokes the fact that we are able
to make ourselves understand, and the being able
to be understood is one of the deepest desires
of each human being. When I am tormented by some
worry or when I am hurting, if I can speak about
it to someone who will hear me and react with
understanding, then I will feel that I have been
helped, that I will have shared my worry or suffering
so that I no longer feel alone, and because of
that I will feel better. When a baby is hurting
and cries, very often adults do the wrong thing
because they do not understand what is going on,
or they do nothing except show by their expression
how helpless they are. But when the small child
acquires language and can say, "My ear hurts",
then there is an altogether different reaction
on the part of the grown-up. What takes place
then is real communication, and that changes the
child's life. Because this communication usually
happens with the mother who then can do a better
job of helping her child, the emotional aura of
the concept of "language" takes on feelings
about her. Because of this, most languages have
an expression like "our mother tongue"
when, in fact, it is the "parental tongue"
or "the language of our environment".
Acquiring
language is really a very ordinary thing. It happens
like any other kind of learning. There is nothing
more mystical about the acquisition of language
than acquiring the ability to drive a car. Nevertheless,
there is an enormous difference between the two.
It is because of our age. When we learn how to
drive, we know that we are learning, and we already
know a great deal about the art of learning because
we have already spent many years attending school
where we learned a lot about learning. But when
we acquire our parental language, we do not know
in any way that we are learning. This is why the
experience seems like a miracle to us. Before
we could not communicate clearly. Now we can express
ourselves. Here is a miracle which changes our
whole life. Because of these circumstances in
which we acquire language, learning without knowing
that we are learning, without knowing that a perfectly
ordinary process of learning is taking place,
the language becomes something that is holy, magical,
fabulous, mythical. Something which is located
beyond the field of reason. Something about whose
origins we know nothing. In the deepest part of
our soul language is a gift of the gods, a supernatural
gift. No person has the right to change it. No
one has the right to freely and rationally meddle
with something that is linguistic.
Just
see how upset people get when they hear of an
attempt to change the spelling of words. Examine
their arguments closely and you will see that
there is nothing really rational about them. It
is simply a matter of feelings, the feelings which
the concept "language" always stirs
up.
A hidden authoritarian message
This
core feeling about language as mythic, bestowed
by the Gods, and thus holy and not to be touched
is the innermost part of the emotional aura that
surrounds the concept of "language".
To this core is added the fact that the concept
"language" evokes our earliest connections
in the family, mainly those with mother. To these
two layers we can add a third: the relationship
with authority. When language is handed down to
children along with it comes a hidden message
that is almost never made explicit. And this message
is horribly dictatorial.
In
fact it dictates the respective positions of the
child and the adult in society. When a child speaks
incorrectly, they correct the child almost from
the very first day of school. If they do not correct
the child, they laugh or make fun or smile meaningfully.
Whatever the reaction, it makes little ones realize
that when they use a form of language that differs
from correct vocabulary or grammar, they are no
longer within the bounds of what is normal. When
little English-speakers say "more good,"
they are told, "We don't speak that way.
We say better". Perhaps in German
they don't have the right to say "mehr gut"
or "guter" or "gueter" and
yet, apparently, children use those forms. They
are corrected: "Not like that. You say besser".
What
does this mean for the depths of the psyche? It
carries a hidden message: "Do not trust your
spontaneous, natural tendencies which make you
generalize those features of the language that
you have recognized. Do not trust your own logic.
Do not trust your reason. Do not trust your reflexes,
your instincts. Do not trust yourself. Obey us,
even if our system is absolutely irrational and
foolish."
For
children language is essentially a way to communicate.
So the first step in their thinking is: "If
they understand me, everything's OK. We have language
so we can understand each other." However,
the reactions of those around them keeps on sending
this message: "Language is not something
that was thought up so people could understand
each other. Language is a field in which you learn
to conform to the arbitrary, inexplicable demands
of the big people." There are taboos in language
which no one can justify. If a child who wants
to express the idea "he came" says "he
comed", "er kommte", "il a
venu", they point out that the child must
say, "he came, er kam, il est venue".
Suppose the child then asks "Why?" No
one can provide him with a rational answer. People
can only say, "Because that's the way it
is." And that implies that the language is
something that is governed by incomprehensible
laws that are never to be explained, that have
their roots in the long ago. Respect for those
who lived so long ago or for the gods who provided
the language is more important than logic, than
reason, than the tendency to act spontaneously,
instinctively, and so more important than individual
human nature.
Esperanto
messes all of this up. It was born not so long
ago. That is sacrilege. A language does not have
the right to be young. A language is something
that is holy and was handed down by our ancestors
or by the gods, not something that could come
into being now. And they say that this language
does not have any exceptions. That is criminal!
If you could follow your natural tendencies, your
nature, your logic to express yourself, what remains
of the authority of your ancestors? That is why
Esperanto causes terrible fears in the depths
of the psyche. It threatens to deprive our parental
language of its mythical, holy, magical character.
It relativizes it in spite of there being a powerful
emotional need that the parental language be something
absolute. We need to stop Esperanto's spread by
all means possible. And we need to do everything
we can to prevent serious scientific investigation
of Esperanto. It might be seen that language is
not what we thought, and then the foundations
of social relations will be undermined. This subject
is too emotional for calm, objective scientific
study, and also for such study of the reactions
to Esperanto.
A Monster
Besides,
Esperanto seems to be a monster, because, they
say, one man made it up. In other words, it has
a father but no mother. It is the monstrous product
of a single pervert. You can find many definitions
which contribute to this idea in dictionaries,
encyclopedias, books about language and materials
put out by Esperantists. According to these "Esperanto
was created by Zamenhof in 1887." Actually
Esperanto was not created in 1887. In 1887 there
appeared the seed of a language, a seed which
had been growing and development in the mind and
in the notebooks of Zamenhof for many years. After
that long process, which can be compared to the
process by which a seed is gradually created in
a plant, the project became public. That means,
the seed was sown. But the seed could become something
that lives only if the soil accepted it. And that
soil was the mother of Esperanto. It was the community
of those first great-hearted idealists who accepted
the seed and gave it an environment in which it
could grow, could become transformed could become
something that was viable independent of any particular
individual.
Esperanto,
as we use it today, is not the work of Zamenhof.
It is a language which has developed on the foundation
of Zamenhof's project through a century of constant
use by very diverse people. It is a language which
has developed in an entirely natural way through
usage, literary creation, successive proposals
and counter-proposals, usually unconsciously.
It is not a monster which a single person brought
into existence. It does have a father, certainly,
a marvelous father who successfully endowed it
with an incredibly powerful suitability for life,
but it also has a mother who lovingly cared for
it and who, much more than a single father could
have, gave life to it.
Facts are more stubborn than words
You
see, the psychological aspects of Esperanto, and
of the world language problem, are much more complex
than you would have first imagined. In the psyche
of most individuals lies a terrible resistance
to the very idea of an international language.
Because of this resistance, almost no one in the
political, social and intellectual elite will
willingly and calmly investigate the matter. And
yet it progresses. Similar cases of resistance
to something that is an improvement, that is more
suitable and more democratic occur very often
throughout history. The most typical example is
the resistance in Europe to the numerals which
we now use, the Indian/Arabic numerals: the intellectual
elite (and not only they) felt these numerals
to be a sacrilege against the Roman numerals which
had been in use. I am convinced that Esperanto
will someday be generally accepted. The pathology
will not always be more powerful than the healthy
forces which are also active in society. Among
these healthy forces is the greater and greater
understanding of the phenomenon of Esperanto on
the part of linguists and of many other people.
There are also the demands of reality. As Lincoln
said, "You can fool all of the people some
of the time, and some of the people all of the
time, but you can not fool all of the people all
of the time." If you compare Esperanto with
other means of communicating between peoples,
you find it to be objectively the best method
by far according to all the criteria. Facts are
more stubborn than ideas. The resistance will
go on and it will be intense, certainly, even
if only because you can perceive something only
when you ready to. Because of this, nowadays,
many people simply will not hear what you are
saying about Esperanto: their minds are not ready
and so your phrases pass them and do not reach
them. Yes, the resistance will continue to be
powerful. But, believe me, it cannot win out.
The facts will win out. The truth will win out.
Esperanto will win out.
translated from the Esperanto by Sylvan Zaft
