It’s possible bilingualism could engender more division
When my kids were starting secondary school and could choose some of their subjects, I suggested two proficiencies would be of great value in their future working life.
One was an ability to speak Ma¯ori and the other was being able to play the guitar. It seemed to me those skillswould help greatly in whatever field they chose.
That was 15 years ago and it didn’t take a crystal ball to see the direction the countrywas heading in. The advice Iwas dispensing was, of course, mainly cynical, based on a belief that a country needing to import so much of its skills and labour should not put so much store in those abilities.
We are at present, for many reasons, heading towards a bilingual society, and, if Ma¯ori Language Week is any gauge, that’s fine with everybody.
It seems churlish to sound a word of caution, but I amgoing to anyway.
First, I need to erect defences to a potential lynching by saying that te reo is indisputably important and efforts should be made to preserve and protect it. I have no trouble with changing place names to their original Ma¯ori names if such claims can be properly established. I believe it’s important to pronounce those names properly and to acknowledge the importance of language to identity.
Where I depart from the current and unquestioned (openly anyway) orthodoxy on the language is the priority and focus it deserves.
I can see how language has an inherent beauty and significance but this can be overstated. Languages die out all the time and somehow people carry on and prosper.
One of the reasons given for pouring state resources into promoting te reo is that broader usage of the language in the wider community acknowledges the first people of the country and increases the self-esteem and confidence of their descendants.
If those descendants are disadvantaged or dysfunctional, and we should be very careful making generalisations, it’s thought recognition of their culture through te reo will help make them more useful community members.
But Iwonder if the resources going into te reo would be better spent on housing and skills education. If poverty and dysfunction are holdingmany Ma¯ori back, more use of te reo by New Zealand eliteswill not help much. A parallel can be drawn with sign language that now accompanies every official announcement or press conference. How much is this really helping and could the money be better spent?
Enshrining te reo as a taonga might make middle-class Ma¯ori and Pa¯keha¯ academics and journalists feel better butIwonder what it does for those at the bottom
of the heap. We are a country of immigrants who bring a variety of languages and cultures. Our standard of living, aswe are learning with Covid-19, depends on an influx of well-heeled immigrants making their life here, and also on an army of work visamigrants to do jobs we can’t or won’t do. It’s a bit much to expect them to not only master English but to appreciate
the beauties of te reo as well.
One of New Zealand’s great and lucky strengths is that it is a largely English-speaking country. Englishmay not be the most spoken language in the world but it is the international language of business and technology. The fact most New Zealanders were brought up with English as their first language is a great advantage.
We already struggle to churn out students competent in basic reading and mathematics. Recent surveys show 35 per cent of children in New Zealand reach the age of 15 without basic reading and mathematics skills.
Bilingualism will produce a small elite fluent in English and te reo. Most New Zealanderswill get to know a few token phrases and even with great effort will never be able to converse in te reo.
A language is not saved by the adoption of a few tourist-type exchanges. The danger exists that we will produce students who are not very good at either language.
English, with all its nuances and complexities, is also the language of the common law on which our legal system is based. That common law tradition gives our institutions an authority, adaptability and protection that is the envy of the world. Our courts are leading the charge in incorporating te reo and Ma¯ori culture into their formalities.
Will this water down the secularism and efficiency of the legal system?
Even if every Kiwi speaks te reo fluently, that’s only five million Ma¯ori language speakers. I know it’s an old argument but if we are to put a huge amount of resources into ensuringNew Zealanders are fluent in another language, shouldn’t we be looking at utility and pay-off?
It also seems quite possible that instead of creating unity, a bilingual system will engender more division. Already it’s easy to leap to judgment when a ‘‘kia ora’’ is met with a ‘‘hello’’ or New Zealand is used instead of Aotearoa. Language has become a political statement.
The question we need to ask is whether bilingualism will create a society where awall exists between converts and amajoritywho can’t be bothered.
Amore bilingual system will also mean a huge amount of extra resources going into translation. Every government report, website, announcement will have to be in two languages. I doubt anyone has assessed the cost and whether the benefits are worth it.
It will be said we can have it all – a glorious bilingual future. The question iswhatwe leave behind.