AYỌ BAMGBOṢE
Language policy is sometimes overt in terms of pronouncements, laws, regulations, constitutional provisions and a series of measures by governmental and nongovernmental organizations and agencies. Quite often, however, language policy is covert and can be inferred only from observed practices. Whether overt or covert, language policy is ever present, and, by implication, so is language planning, irrespective of number, status, size, geographical spread, and power of the languages in a country.
One reality of language policy discourse in the world today is that it inevitably gravitates toward the role of English. This is regardless of whether such discourse relates to any of Kachru’s categories of Inner, Outer, and Expanding Circles. It is, of course, entirely understandable that English should loom large in language policy in Inner Circle countries, such as the USA, Britain, and Australia. However, even in countries of other Circles, language policy discourse eventually ends up either as a discussion of the position and role of other languages in relation to English or vice versa. To this extent, English is always present – in the words of Pennycook (1994: 4), “It seems to turn up everywhere.” In other words, in any language policy discourse, English must be an inevitable factor (Spolsky 2004: 91), and there is an “ideological clustering” of policies around English (Ricento 2000; Sonntag 2000). My metaphor for this ubiquitous presence is a recurring decimal. Try dividing 10 by 3, and you end up with 3.33333 ad infinitum. There will always be a decimal 3, no matter how long you go on for. This recurring decimal is very much like the way English recurs in language policy discourse.
The prominence that a language has in language policy may be due to a number of factors such as population, prestige, status, functionality, and nationalism. English shares all these factors in different countries and may in fact have more than one of the factors in the same country. In Inner Circle countries, where English is the first language of the majority of the population, all factors are involved. Consequently, any language policy must take as its point of departure the centrality of English. The issues that arise in such countries have more to do with what role should be given to minority languages (e.g. in education), and how immigrants are to be integrated into the larger society (Herriman 1996; Herriman & Burnaby 1996; Ozolins & Clyne 2001; Ricento 1996; Thompson, Fleming. & Byram 1996). Status planning decisions in such countries have nothing to do with “what language?” but perhaps with “what dialect of English in addition to the standard dialect?” This is particularly important in the case of divergent and stigmatized dialects such as Black English. Needless to say, prestige, status, and functionality are to be assumed where English is the first language of the overwhelming majority of the population. Given the entrenched position of English, it may be thought that nationalism will play no part in the promotion of English, but such is its force that there are people who advocate an English only policy, in the mistaken belief that it will ensure national unity and identity in the utopian context of a “melting pot” (Dicker 2000: 50–52; Schmidt 2000: 28–36).
In Outer Circle countries, where English was implanted as a result of colonial rule, only a minority of the population may be said to be proficient in English. Statistics of estimates of L2 speakers in such countries are no more than “guestimates.” For example, Crystal (1997: 59) credits Nigeria with 43 million speakers of English out of a population of 95 million. As a Nigerian who is professionally involved in language studies, I do not know where these millions of speakers are to be found! It is truer to say that in Nigeria, as in all other former British colonies, English remains a minority, but powerful, language used by an elite. Given the fact that literacy in English is acquired through formal education, and that a sizable percentage of children have no access to that education, it is not surprising that the English‐using population is not a large one. However, what English lacks in numbers, it makes up for in prestige, status, and functionality. Hence, language policy discourse in these countries revolves around the questions of what role English has as an official language, whether any other language can share this role at the national level, what further allocation of functions (particularly in education), when English should be introduced in schools, and what models of English should be aimed at in English language teaching.
Even when there is emphasis on languages and cultures indigenous to a country, such is the dominance of English that such discussion is carried out by reference to English. The acronym LOTE, standing for Languages other than English, which has been popularized in Australia, makes good sense in the context of a predominantly English‐using country. However, when it is used for languages whose populations of speakers are far larger than that of English, all it shows is the dominance of English in language policy discourse. While, in Outer Circle countries, the functionality of English is recognized and accepted, nationalism does not feature as justification for promoting English, even by the English‐using elite. That is why most African countries that make English their official language refrain from according it the status of a national language as well. All the same, English is a constant feature of language policy in these countries.
In Expanding Circle countries, English lacks a strong population base, it is not likely to have any official status, nor is the push for it born of any nationalistic considerations. Yet it has enormous prestige, mainly on account of its instrumental value. Although the role of English varies from use in certain domains (such as tourism) to institutionalized entrenchment in the educational system, what all these countries have in common is the learning and using of English as a foreign language. What has accelerated the use of English in Expanding Circle countries is the impact of globalization. Nowhere is this trend more evident than in Europe, where English is said to have almost become a lingua franca in, for example, Scandinavia and the Netherlands, and is the “preferred first language taught in schools” in virtually all of Europe (Hoffmann 1998: 145–146). In Switzerland, French Swiss are said to be more attracted to English than to German, while German Swiss also tend to favor English over French as a second language (Dicker 1996: 224). Even in the countries of the European Union, which has an official policy of 24 official languages for conducting its business, as Phillipson (2001: 7) remarks, “the rhetoric of equality of the official 11 [at the time] languages is hollow” since “there is a pecking order of languages, and … English has the sharpest beak.” Hence, even in countries in which English is a foreign language, it stills features prominently in language policy discourse.
The dominance of English in language policy is often presented as the effect of a deliberate choice. English has been found useful and functional; it opens doors to knowledge and technological advance and it is the language of globalization par excellence. In the case of most Outer Circle countries, it is the one language that serves as a lingua franca in a complex multilingual situation. Hence, it is only natural that it should be given a significant role in educational and general language policy. In a survey of postimperial English in 20 countries (including the European Union, which was treated as one unit), it was found that English was widely used in several domains, including education, the media, science, technology, commerce and industry, and informal social contacts. Based on this data, Fishman (1996: 639) concluded that “the socioeconomic factors that are behind the spread of English are now indigenous in most countries of the world and part and parcel of daily life and social stratification.”
While this conclusion may serve as a rebuttal of extreme views of linguistic imperialism (cf. Phillipson 1992), it fails to “problematize the notion of choice” (Pennycook 1994: 12). Is the choice of English a free choice or are there constraints that make the choice inevitable? In 20 case studies of postimperial English, only 3 – Nigeria, Papua New Guinea, and Puerto Rico, as documented by Bamgboṣe (1996), Oladejo (1996), and Ramirez‐Gonzales & Torres‐Gonzalez (1996), respectively – specifically allow for the possibility that the dominance of English may have been constrained by factors other than free choice. If a country has had a long history of contact with English, if in the multilingual situation English is the only link language among speakers of different languages, if contacts with other countries through trade, industry and higher education are in English, then it does not require a clairvoyant to predict that English is bound to occupy a central role in the language policy of the country in question. What is true of a single country is also true of the demand for English in the world at large. Hence, one cannot but agree with Pennycook (1994: 74), when he says, “given the broader inequitable relationships in the world, people have little choice but to demand access to English.”
The problem of choice, or lack of it, is perhaps more evident when applied to individuals. It would appear that because of the enormous advantages which knowledge of English confers, people deliberately demand and opt for it. For example, there are prospects of better jobs and upward social mobility, particularly in countries where English is an official language. On the face of it, this argument makes sense in light of investments that people make sending their children to English‐medium schools, hiring private English tutors, going abroad for special courses in English, etc. A closer examination, however, reveals that it is not so much wanting to learn English because of the advantages it confers (though there is undoubtedly an element of this) as needing to learn it, because not learning English is not really a choice. While writing this chapter, I listened to a news item about a candidate for the post of Secretary‐General of the Organization of Oil Producing and Exporting Countries (OPEC). As this candidate does not speak English, but only Spanish, it was said that his chances of being elected were slim. For such a position, English is a requirement, not merely an advantage. Can anyone imagine a candidate for the post of Secretary‐General of the United Nations who does not speak English, in addition to whatever other languages he or she may speak?
Major constraints on free choice are historical, economic and bureaucratic. Attention has been drawn to the fact that the logic of postcolonial policy is maintenance rather than change. While postindependence governments appear to be making language policy, most of the time they are only perpetuating colonial language policy (Bamgboṣe 1991, 2000). This inheritance situation has meant a futile struggle between change and continuity, with the latter usually gaining the upper hand. In practically all African countries colonized by Britain, English remains an official or co‐official language. Attempts to promote the use of any other language as national or official have resulted either in failure or limited success. The South African experience is instructive in this regard. While there has been a determined effort to empower languages other than English and Afrikaans by entrenching nine African languages in the Constitution and making supplementary provision for their use in the legislature, education and broadcasting, such is the hold of the past on the present that English has remained dominant in most domains (Alexander 2001: 361–362; Bernsten 2001; de Klerk & Barkhuizen 2002: 11; Kamwangamalu 1997: 244; McLean & McCormick 1996: 329; Reagan 2001: 63). The influence of the historical factor is that status planning, as far as English is concerned, is a predetermined choice, for it is no exaggeration to say that once you go for English, your choice will always be English. In turn, each variety of English is itself determined by historical factors, as shown in the case of South Africa, where the recognized varieties of English are Traditional White English, which can be traced to the first‐language speakers, and a series of second‐language varieties, including Afrikaans English, South African Indian English, Cape/Colored English, and South African Black English, with each variety identified with an original indigenous or settler group (Bernsten 2001: 226).
A major constraint in the choice of language is its economic power. Under normal circumstances, it is unlikely that a student would choose to learn a language that does not offer the prospect of a good job or social advancement. This explains why measures to promote indigenous languages have often been singularly unsuccessful, as knowledge of such languages generally does not confer any appreciable economic advantages. Although it has been suggested that in countries such as Japan, where English is not used for internal purposes, thus the language is “not a central basis for deciding who has access to economic resources and political power” (Tollefson 2000: 13), it is still the case that English is prestigious, particularly in international business relations and communication. In other countries, where English is used for internal purposes, it is a major determinant of position and power. Why, in the name of giving a head start to their children, do some parents insist on their learning English from kindergarten, or speaking English at home, even when English is not the language of the community? Their idea is to position the children for a good education and prospects of economic advancement. What is true of choices made for children is also true of choices made by adults. They are constrained by the hope of expected economic prospects and rewards.
Most policy decisions on language status are bureaucratic in three senses. They are taken by government or quasi‐government bodies. Second, their implementation depends on rules and regulations made by bureaucrats. Third, the officials responsible for decision‐making are members of an elite that have a vested interest in maintaining the role and status of English. The question of who makes policy (Cooper 1989) is a nontrivial one, as it affects what policies are made. Given the tendency for “elite closure” (Myers‐Scotton 1990), the consumers of policy tend to be those who have no leverage on, nor input into, policy making. The result is that, for them, there is really no choice, as they can only abide by laid‐down‐policy. If, as is usually the case, such policy is oriented towards English, the hegemony of English is further enhanced.
The hegemony of English may be said to be beneficial on the one hand and detrimental on the other. When one considers its communicative and instrumental function, its role as lingua franca in many countries, and its global reach (which further enhances the concept of a shrinking world), it is easy to see why the spread of English is often viewed as “natural, neutral and beneficial” (Pennycook 1994: 7, 9, 11, 141) – a claim that is increasingly being disputed (see Phillipson 1992; Pennycook 1994; Skuttnabb‐Kangas 2000; Tollefson 2000). In the contexts of Outer Circle countries, where English is largely acquired through formal education, the detrimental effects of the hegemony of English can be seen in social stratification, exclusion, and problems associated with education and literacy, the status of languages other than English, and language rights.
Inherent in the way English is propagated is the emergence of an educated elite. It so happens that this elite is privileged in terms of access to positions, power and influence. And it is a self‐perpetuating elite, since it ensures that the opportunities it has are transferred to its offspring, particularly in terms of privileged education. The situation described for the Philippines by Tollefson (2000: 14–15) is true of virtually all Outer Circle countries:
Since those who make policy are most certainly likely to be drawn from the ranks of the elite, a situation arises in which policy and practice are self‐reinforcing and constitute the entrenchment of a self‐perpetuating social class. This elite has a vested interest in maintaining the hegemony of English, since it gives its members an overwhelming advantage in terms of access to jobs, social status, and power. Hence, it does all it can through the educational system to maintain its privileged position and to reproduce itself (Dua 1996: 3; Rubagumya 1991: 76).
Whenever there is a privileged class, there is bound to be an element of exclusion. This is amply illustrated in the dual education system just mentioned, which separates those who have superior proficiency in English from those that do not. As Phillipson puts it, “English is the language of the powerful. For the majority, lack of proficiency in English closes doors” (Phillipson 2003: 7). There are other categories of those excluded, such as those who have not had the opportunity of formal education or have had such education in a medium other than English. In a situation in which English is an official language, lack of familiarity with it “constitutes one of the greatest impediments in a country, affecting as it does, access to education, public services, jobs, political positions, and effective functioning in a society.” English thus becomes “a bar between those who can participate using the official language and those who cannot” (Bamgboṣe 2000: 2, 11). Consequently, those likely to benefit from the policy are “[c]ertainly not the poor” or economically disadvantaged (Brock‐Utne 2001: 115). Also in the category of the excluded are those who have imperfect mastery of English. Although they pretend to be able to participate, they are, in fact, functionally excluded since they do not function adequately, but admitting their inadequacy would involve loss of job or loss of face (Bamgboṣe 2000: 11). Where a language has been empowered to function alongside English in certain domains, such as in politics, the basis for participation may be widened. For example, in the wake of the adoption of Swahili as a national language in Tanzania and Kenya, certain politicians became more relevant as a result of their competence in the language. A more interesting case, reported by Canagarajah (1999), is the emergence of a monolingual Tamil‐speaking elite in the Tamil‐controlled areas of Sri Lanka. Given that the leadership of the military regime in control there is largely monolingual, a new elite has emerged that has control of political power. This elite exists side by side with an older elite that is bilingual in English and Tamil and dominates the economy and the professions. Hence, there is an awareness of “parallel elites.” But even in this situation, it is reported that English is still perceived as “a class marker (i.e. the language of the educated and rich)” (Canagarajah 1999: 29).
In a multilingual situation in which English is not the first language but is the medium of learning and teaching in schools, it has been repeatedly observed that a significant percentage of pupils repeat classes, drop out before the end of the elementary education cycle, or fail to obtain the required school leaving certification. Although several factors, including teacher competence, learning environment, teaching materials and other facilities, financial capability of parents, and community support may affect success or failure in schools, the fact is that the medium of instruction is also a significant factor. Given the prevailing attitude that English‐medium education is best, it is not surprising that parents opt for it in the belief that the earlier a child is exposed to instruction in English, the better will be his or her chances of success in higher cycles of education. What is often lost sight of is that conditions for the teaching of English are usually unsatisfactory. Hence, length of instruction in English does not automatically translate into greater competence and effective education. In other words, “longer” does not always mean “better.” Although the alternative of bilingual education is often ignored, the reality is that it offers a more promising approach in a multilingual situation. Rather than have an English‐only medium at the elementary level, which is terminal for most children in many African countries, it is much better to have a combination of the child's first language and English as languages of instruction. Even if the child then fails to complete its primary education or completes it without the required certification, there will be another language in which it may be said to be literate.
What is true of basic education is also true of adult literacy. Given an estimated illiteracy population of 854 million in the less‐developed regions of the world in 2000, eradication of illiteracy is understandably a major preoccupation of developing countries. It is reported that “[o]f the twenty‐three countries with estimated illiteracy rates higher than 50% today, fifteen are located in sub‐Saharan Africa and five in Southern Asia” (UNESCO 2000: 37). Needless to say, eradication of illiteracy can hardly be achieved unless literacy education is conducted in a language that the adult learners already speak either as a first language or a language of the immediate community. Attempts to carry out mass literacy campaigns in an official language which is not the mother tongue of adult learners have usually been difficult or unsuccessful (UNESCO 1992: 23). Hence, should English be used as the language of literacy, it would hardly make a dent in the war against illiteracy.
In status planning, one consequence of making a language an official language is the status it confers on that language and its speakers. The official language becomes dominant, and other languages become disadvantaged, and policies affecting such official languages “affect the viability and stability of other languages used in the community” (Herriman & Burnaby 1996: 9). For example, as an official language in many African countries, English holds a dominant position over other languages. Some will even say, with a touch of exaggeration, that English will “squeeze out” other languages (Ager 2001:86), or that “English poses a direct threat to the very existence of other languages” (Pennycook 1994: 14) or to “the country's linguistic and cultural diversity” (Webb 1996: 176). Where there have been attempts to break away from the colonial tradition and adopt a language other than English as an official language, such is the force of the dominance of English that those new policies have only been partially successful. A good example of this is Swahili in Tanzania, which does not function beyond the primary school level as a language of instruction.
In a country such as South Africa, where nine African languages are recognized as co‐official languages with English and Afrikaans, such is the dominance of English that, compared with English‐medium education, education in an African language does not confer any visible benefits, either in terms of social mobility or better economic prospects (Alexander 2001: 361; Kamwangamalu 1997: 245). Consequently, there is a rush to enroll in English‐medium schools, with the result that loyalty to the mother tongue by the younger generation is weakening and competence in the mother tongue is decreasing (de Klerk 1999: 319). Although it has been suggested that “neither Afrikaans nor most of the indigenous African languages are in any immediate danger,” the point has also been made that “language shift towards English is clearly taking place at an accelerated rate, and the number of spheres in which languages other than English can be used is rapidly declining” (Reagan 2001: 63). In Europe, where there are well‐entrenched national languages, it is said that “the popularity of English is also a looming threat” (Dicker 1996: 227).
In discussions of the hegemony of English, the case for the use of other languages is often presented in terms of linguistic human rights. The focus is mainly on minority languages and the need to preserve them. Hence, there are grassroots language revival movements to promote the use of regional languages in education and the media. In Europe, in particular, there is institutional support by the European Union through the European Bureau for Lesser Used Languages, which finances, among others, projects in Gaelic in Ireland and Frisian in the Netherlands (Dicker 1996: 227). A language rights approach to language policy is fraught with problems. First, it attributes undue power and influence to international conventions and agreements, which advocates of linguistic rights are fond of invoking. The reality, of course, is that such agreements are often ignored because they are not legally enforceable (Bamgboṣe 2000: 19). As de Varennes (1999: 117) has pointed out, agreements that have a moral rather than a legal force are “things which governments ‘should’ do, if they are ‘nice,’ not something they must do.” And one may just add that governments are not particularly noted for being nice.
Second, a linguistic human rights approach is idealistic. For example, Article 24 of the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights (1998: 27) states:
All language communities have the right to decide to what extent their language is to be present, as a vehicular language and as an object of study, at all levels of education within their territory: preschool, primary, secondary, technical and vocational, university, and adult education.
It is simply unrealistic to expect that all languages will be used as media of instruction at all levels of education. While it is ideal for a child’s mother tongue to be used as medium of instruction, in practical terms and in certain situations, a language of the immediate community may be a preferred medium. Similarly, in Outer Circle countries, the language of instruction at secondary and tertiary levels is likely to continue to be in English. Third, a linguistic human rights approach limits language choice in cases where, for good reason, parents do not opt for their own mother tongue as a language of instruction in schools for their children. It is this possibility of choice and the making of uninformed choices that is often to blame for the entrenchment of English. Although dominance is presented in anthropomorphic terms, as if it is the language itself and not its speakers that is responsible for maintenance and promotion of a language, speakers of other languages are, to some extent, responsible for the hegemony of English, particularly in terms of their attitudes to their own languages. Even when allowance has been made for those factors that encourage the hegemony of English, a family that abandons the mother tongue in favor of English as the medium of communication in the home cannot at the same time complain that its mother tongue has been marginalized in other domains.
As most of world Englishes studies have been conducted within the framework of linguistic sciences, researchers on world Englishes have tended to emphasize pedagogy. It has been suggested that more attention has to be paid to “the more macro aspects of English language teaching, which include such political, cultural, and social issues as language policies and their implications for schooling practices” (Hall & Eggington 2000: 1). This is because language learning cannot be divorced from its “social, cultural and educational contexts” (Pennycook 1994: 299). Unfortunately, such concerns are either relegated to the pedagogical aspect or, presented in a high profile, an adversarial or polemic treatise, which tends to give the impression that there is something sinister about the spread of English in the world. This is exemplified in particular by Phillipson (1992) on linguistic imperialism, which provoked a symposium that appeared in World Englishes (Kachru & Smith 1993) and has continued to be a topic for discussion in the literature.
The volume titled New Englishes: A West African Perspective (Bamgboṣe, Banjo, & Thomas 1995) is a good example of what has been said above on research in world Englishes. Of the 21 chapters in the book, only five deal with general issues of language policy and the context of English language teaching. Apart from two which discuss literature in English, the remaining 14 are devoted to varieties of English and variety differentiation, indigenization processes, standards and codification (Kachru 1985), code‐switching, communicative competence, and corpus research. In my own research, I have concentrated on identification and indexical markers of Nigerian English, registers, endonormative norms, and codification. These issues are no doubt important, and it is right that emphasis in World Englishes research should initially be on justifying the very existence of world Englishes and their viability. Increasingly, however, I have been drawn to the broader issues of educational failure and the role of English in language policy and planning. In the Nigerian school system, for instance, the following problems have been observed:
Several factors may be suggested for the observed educational problems, including curriculum, teacher training, teaching materials, methodology, and examinations, but above all, language policy (Akere 1995; Bamgboṣe 1992; Mohammed 1995). Irrespective of whichever factor, a situation in which English becomes a barrier has to be seriously addressed. Unfavorable outcomes of the system include children who are unable to complete primary education because of inability to cope with subjects being taught in English, students who have to take and retake the English Language paper (without which they cannot gain admission to tertiary institutions), and teachers who reinforce the learning errors of their students by their own poor grammar and pronunciation. All these are instances of educational failure.
Language policy discourse in relation to English has implications for language planning, particularly with regard to extending its scope beyond language, and ensuring that it is inclusive, equitable, and ultimately designed to promote the overall cultural and economic development of a country. The hegemony of English is a reality that language policy and planning should take account of. Given that English is ever present and needed, how does one formulate policy so that it tries to avoid most of the undesirable effects associated with hegemony? First, it must be recognized that language policy is not about language alone (Herriman & Burnaby 1996: 13), but that it encompasses sociopolitical and economic issues. For example, some of the problems associated with educational failure can be tackled with better funding, closer attention to institutional structures, and curriculum reform. No matter how desirable language policies may be, unless they are backed by the will to implement them, they cannot have any effect. Hence, implementation should be well articulated even at the point when policy is being formulated. Allowance should, however, be made for distortions that occur in the process of implementation owing to contrary attitudes and actions of stakeholders affected by a policy. This is what has been referred to as “unplanned language planning” (Kachru 1991: 8; see also Kaplan & Baldauf 1997: 297–299).
Second, an effective language policy has to be inclusive, in the sense that it caters not just for a minority but for the generality of the population. In relation to English hegemony, what this means is that a multilingual policy is to be preferred to a monolingual one. Even if not all children of school‐going age can make the transition to secondary level, a meaningful bilingual education policy will at least ensure that those who complete primary education are able to absorb and transmit information either in their mother tongue or in a combination of their mother tongue and English.
Third, language policy must be equitable in that it should minimize the incidence of exclusion, whether in terms of those who have access or who are denied access on grounds of language alone (Bamgboṣe 2000: 8–16). In this connection, the tendency to marginalize minority languages needs to be firmly resisted, perhaps in terms of positive action. The example of India is instructive in this regard. Article 347 of the 1996 Revised Constitution empowers the president to direct that any language spoken in a state be recognized, provided there is a demand by a substantial proportion of the population of the state (Choudhry 2001: 302). Similarly, if a minority group constitutes at least 60% of the total population of a district, the language of that minority group may be recognized as an official language in addition to the official language of the state (Dua 1996:14).
Fourth, language policy is not an end in itself. The rationale for it must be what it can contribute to the overall cultural, human and socioeconomic development of a country (Afolayan 1984: 1; Bamgboṣe 2000: 116; Reagan 1995: 320; Webb 1996: 186). In this connection, mention must be made of the United Nations Millennium Development Goals, whose achievement has been considerably slowed down in many developing countries owning to inadequate language policies (Bamgboṣe 2014). Hence, it is not enough to place emphasis on globalization, information and communication technology, and the need for a language of wider communication to the detriment of the first language through which most of the population can participate and make any meaningful contribution to national development.
The dominance of English is an inescapable fact that language policy and planning must come to terms with. In so doing, this dominance must be so managed as to produce maximally favorable outcomes. In Outer Circle countries, in particular, a proper definition of language roles should minimize the incidence of exclusion. Researchers in world Englishes cannot turn a blind eye to the problems of educational failure or unfavorable language policy outcomes. The research activity must contribute to language policy discourse insofar as it relates to the role of English. Such a contribution must be informed by an understanding that, although the English language is one major, global and powerful resource in the world today, its role can only be complementary to that of other languages in a multilingual and multicultural context.