To be British is to be multilingual – a statement that might jar with you if your impression of Britishness is dogged monolingualism. But not only does that image ignore the many millions of immigrants and their children who are British citizens and who pivot between languages every day, it obscures a growing interest in reviving the languages of the British Isles.
An excellent example of this happened last week. Just two decades ago, the MP Andrew George was the first parliamentarian to swear allegiance to the Crown in Cornish when he was elected. This time round, all six of Cornwall’s MPs chose to do the same. By law, MPs are obliged to do it in English and then have the option of repeating it in another language if they so desire. As of last week, our current Parliament chose to not only swear oaths of allegiance in English and Cornish, but also in Welsh, Ulster Scots, Scottish Gaelic, Doric and Punjabi.
It does seem to be in pomp and circumstance, and moments of heritage-building, that our linguistic diversity is most prominent. This week, King Charles and Queen Camilla are visiting the Channel Islands, which while not part of the UK are Crown Dependencies.
Few seemed happier to see the Royals than the Guernsey Language Commission, who were “delighted” to set up a display on the Crown Pier to showcase Guernésiais, a local variety of the Norman language.
Charles and Camilla were greeted with a banner that assured them of their welcome – “Bianvnus en Guernesi vos majestaïs” – and the Queen was sung a rendition of Happy Birthday in Serquaise, the variety found on the Channel Island of Sark. Leaflets were handed out with QR codes to help locals pronounce words correctly, and commissioners were on hand to share words and tips.
Part of the excitement draws from the story of Charles spending nine weeks learning Welsh before his investiture as Prince of Wales in 1969. The effort he went to has been remembered, to the point that calls were made for Prince William to do the same in 2022.
It was a huge milestone in the representation of British minority languages – languages where speakers often feel their community has suffered from linguicide, the phenomenon in which a language disappears or is actively “disappeared” due to reasons like state policy, colonisation, or even assimilation.
It is a matter that is also close to my heart – I am writing a book on linguicide – and in my own family we prize our heritage language, a variety of the Emilian language in Italy, which I have listened to my whole life and am now trying to learn. That’s my Italian half sorted; for my British half, I too hope to one day familiarise myself at least with the linguistic features of languages like Welsh and Cornish to understand more about my country’s national heritage.
At school, you’re lucky if you’re presented with French, Spanish or German; the internet now means we have access to many, many more language learning opportunities that may be far closer to us. Language learning brings immeasurable benefits to us, from cognitive wellness into our later years as well as exciting moments of connection – it doesn’t really matter which one you pick to achieve these goals. Indigenous British languages are worthy of our increased attention.
Cornish was extinct only a couple of hundred years ago, but revival efforts – which include proud moments of language reclamation like we saw in Parliament last week – mean Cornwall council now estimates there are 400-500 advanced speakers of Cornish, but also between 2,000 and 5,000 people who can speak the basics.
However, small speaker communities are immensely fragile: last year the University of Aberdeen announced it would be scrapping all its single honours language degrees which includes the teaching of Gaelic, which it has taught since 1495, blaming a steep fall in student numbers. Communities regularly call out for more money and better protections so that languages can continue to be taught and spoken.
In the UK, language learning in schools has halved in the last 15 years, and you’ll normally hear worries hone in on the most taught languages like French or German. But the reality is that this hurts a wider culture of language learning and respect for multilingualism, something that is deemed to be important elsewhere but not here. As Cornwall council said in its evidence to last year’s Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport inquiry into minority languages, “Cornish is not just for Cornwall, but a British cultural asset which is at risk.”
It is our minority languages that will, invisible and ignored, feel some of the hardest blows if we don’t better embrace them into British national identity.
Sophia Smith Galer is a multi-award-winning reporter, author and content creator based in London