Language Sovereignty in Wales
"Diolch," the boy thanks me as he passes where I've stepped off the trail to let his scooter through. I'm also offered cheese (caws) samples fully in Welsh at a market booth.
At the street fair, all the bands are singing in Welsh: programming for four stages across a full day.
Although most public signage is labeled in Welsh and English (Welsh first), the aisles in grocery stores are often labeled in Welsh only. That's what the locals speak.
We are in Wales, but I'm surprised and impressed. I know that in Ireland, children are taught Irish in schools, but they mostly speak English. I had expected the same here.
Not so. Both Ireland and Wales have complex and blood-soaked histories with England: resistance, revolt, pride in the monarchs, pride in military service in the British army, resentment, oppression, symbols, and plots. Though Ireland was more successful in its bid for political sovereignty from England's empire than Wales, the Welsh seem to have had a more successful program of language revitalization.
As with many other hostile takeovers, the Welsh language's decline was an intentional tactic of control by the ruling force. Wales was taken by England in the late 1200s by Edward I. Starting in the 1500s, under Henry VIII, use of the language was restricted by law, particularly in parliament and in the courts. This ensured a class distinction between people who could speak English, and those who couldn't.
Over the centuries, English spread as the lingua franca in Wales, especially during periods of mass immigration. School was taught in English, and when the church came to Wales, services were in English as well. By the early 1900s, the Welsh language was in such decline that it was expected to die out within a few generations.
Partly in response to this, in 1925, Plaid Cymru (the Welsh party) was founded, with language revitalization as a foremost goal.
Language is a powerful marker of identity. As a light-haired Lingít growing up outside much tribal culture, it's something I've turned to as a way to claim allegiance to my own colonized country. Even knowing a few words can make a critical difference in the ability to claim and feel membership.
Like Welsh, Lingít as a language was on the verge of extinction, but for the first time in many generations, there are currently more native speakers of Tlingit than one generation prior. This is a difficult, beautiful process of cultivation: classes, books, and language nests for young kids.
The process of decolonization looks different for each colonized culture. A drive for independence, political or linguistic, can lie dormant and then erupt hundreds of years later. Change can be gradual or brutal, neither or both.
As an adherent of nonviolent direct action, I know that often, the most effective way to spark a change is through a public and dramatic demonstration that an oppressor is in the wrong. For example, the American lunch counter sit-ins highlighted the violence of racism by anticipating confrontation through the simple act of ordering lunch. Irish independence followed the same principle, though not through nonviolence: the Easter Rising of 1916 could have been simply a very foolish way for Irish rebels to die, but the cruelty of the British in the aftermath aligned the nation to the rebels' cause.
It is no great surprise, then, that issues related to Welsh sovereignty resurface in the public consciousness in response to incidents of felt injustice. For example, the Llyn Peninsula (which we will visit soon) is considered an enclave of traditional Welsh culture. When in 1936 the Brits moved to install a major military site there, mass outcry arose. A small group of Welsh patriots set fire to one of the constructions. They were hailed as heroes in Wales and convicted at Caernarfon.
Three years later, following a reinvigorated Welsh spirit, the first fully Welsh-language school opened in 1939. 1942 saw limited return of Welsh to the courtroom. In 1967, a 1746 law making Wales officially part of England was repealed (related to the leader of Plaid Cymru winning a parliamentary seat the prior year). With Wales now a separate entity in the United Kingdom, the Welsh language was fully allowed for legal use.
Caernarfon, where we have passed the weekend, is the traditional site of the crowning of the Prince of Wales. Though it is true that the title has been accorded to England's heir apparent for many centuries (starting with Edward I, who stole the title through conquest), the title is older and not derived from its relation to kingship. Instead, it is the traditional Welsh title for the highest authority in the country of Wales.
Only recently has the Prince of Wales coronation ceremony returned to Welsh soil, and though it's important that words of Welsh are once again spoken in the ceremony, the English monarchs do not make a habit of learning the language before accepting the title. In the ceremony, the words are only rehearsed sounds, unintelligible to the new Prince who utters them.
But the children of Wales — they know. As of 2011, Welsh is one of the two official languages of Wales, equal with English. Just as important, it's the language kids use with one another here, in school, at home, and at play.
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Bonus: Mother’s Day Collection
