Along the border between England and Wales stand some of
Great Britain's most imposing castles. They are testimony
to centuries of conflict between the two countries. The
cannons have long been silent, and motorists cross the
frontier today without encountering so much as a sign
of welcome or good-bye. But in Wales, pride of place and
pride of culture are still very much alive.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the effort to promote
the Welsh language. In the 1890s, at least 70% of the
people of Wales spoke Welsh. By the middle of the 20th
century, the national language (known as Cymraeg,
related to Cornish and Breton) appeared to be dying. It
was still dominant in some areas (mainly to the west and
north), but virtually everyone in Wales spoke English,
and everything from road signs to traffic tickets were
written in the imperial language. Students were punished
for speaking Welsh in school, and the mass media flooded
the country with English pop culture. Linguists assumed
that Welsh would go the way of Gaelic in Scotland and
Ireland—the focus of much nationalist rhetoric, but
spoken on a daily basis only in the poorest and most isolated
areas.
Today the revival of Welsh is shaping up to be one of the
world's most impressive linguistic success stories. The
latest census (2001) showed, for the first time, an increase
in Welsh speakers both in real numbers and as a percentage
of the population. The rise was especially marked among
the young, and in traditionally English-speaking areas
in the south and east. "We can now say, hand on heart,
that the language is in the ownership of people throughout
Wales," says John Walter Jones of the Welsh Language
Board. "It is not something that is being ghettoized
and left in a corner. It is there throughout society."
Language activist Heini Gruffudd credits a century of grassroots
campaigning for the resurgence of Welsh. As a young man,
Gruffudd would dismantle English road signs in the dead
of night. Other activists would ride their bicycles down
the wrong side of the street, then refuse to pay their
fines until the tickets were translated into Cymraeg.
Pre-schoolers dance
to Welsh nursery rhymes at Tiddlywinks
school in the hills north of Swansea.
The Nursery School Movement was critical
in bringing language awareness to
the mainstream.
Over time, the tactics became less symbolic and more practical.
In 1971, parents founded the Nursery School Movement (Mudiad
Ysgolion Meithrin), and began setting up Welsh pre-schools
and childcare centers. Today Welsh-medium education is
solidly mainstream. About 25% of all primary-age children
are enrolled in Welsh immersion schools. Studies show
that these schools don't just provide students with a
strong foundation in the national language—graduates
also do better in English.
Government has played its part. Laws enacted by Britain
in 1967 gave Welsh official status in the courts. In 1993,
parliament passed a much stronger Welsh Language Act,
creating the language board and erasing the remaining
legal inequities. Today the board supports innovative
programs like "Twf"—a word that
means "growth" in Welsh, and also stands for
"Taking Welsh to Families." In Twf
(pronounced "toove"), parents are encouraged
to speak Welsh with their children. That's a challenge
in a country where the great majority of young adults
are native English speakers.
The Language Board claims that in homes in which both parents
speak Welsh, there is a 92% chance that the children will
also speak the language. Where only one parent speaks
Welsh, the rate for the children drops to about 50%. Jones
says English-speaking parents must come to believe that
raising bilingual children makes educational and—especially—economic sense. Marketing materials produced by the
language board tout the intellectual advantages of multilingualism,
and point out that more and more companies require Welsh
proficiency of their employees. But learning a new language
is a serious commitment, and not everyone is sure it's
worth the effort.
Bilingual road signs
are the result of years of activism
and civil disobedience.
No one in Wales expects Welsh to replace English. Nor does
anyone claim that an ability to speak or understand a
second language necessarily means that people will use
it in everyday life. There may be Welsh classes and plays
and poetry readings and road signs, but walk down the
street in Cardiff or Swansea and you will rarely hear
anything other than English.
"It’s a gradual thing," says Jones. "You
don’t invest in a language today and see the results
tomorrow. Language does take time. We lost it over two
or three generations. We’re going to regain it in
two or three generations."
John
Walter Jones
