Portugal, the incompetent Lusophone

After King Afonso II had his will written in the nascent Portuguese language on June 27, 1214, it was King Dinis who made the Portuguese language official. The first official document in Portuguese, by King Afonso II, served as the reference point for the 2014 celebrations of the 800th anniversary of the Portuguese language by various institutions, most notably the Assembly of the Republic. More profound and far-reaching, around 1290, was King Dinis's decision to mandate the use of the vernacular—an evolution, spoken at the time, of Galician-Portuguese—in official court documents, replacing Latin, a strategic measure with significant historical impact. A momentous occasion! The initiative conferred official status on our language, reinforcing it as an element of national identity and an instrument of communication and power for the Kingdom of Portugal. We will never thank King Dinis enough for this insight and vision.
Among historians, following João Paulo Oliveira e Costa, it is increasingly common to identify Portugal as a language-state. It was linguistic unity that helped cement national identity, forge the Portuguese people, and form the nation. The Portuguese, who did not exist before Afonso Henriques, became not only those who lived in the territory of the King of Portugal and embraced his flag, but also, since King Dinis, those who spoke the same language, distinct from all others.

With nationality consolidated in 1383-85, the language accompanied the Portuguese as they sailed the world from the 15th century onward. The Portuguese language, chosen by King Dinis, became a global language as it was the language of those who sailed the oceans. Our language became the lingua franca of the East in the 16th and 17th centuries – the 17th-century Dutch called it "the language of communication in Asia." It served European navigators and merchants of various nationalities to communicate with the coastal peoples of East Africa, India, Southeast Asia, and Japan, with Portuguese creoles developing in Malacca, Ceylon, and Macau. Even after the arrival and rise of the Dutch and English, Portuguese remained the lingua franca in many regions of Asian maritime trade, also being used as a diplomatic, commercial, and missionary language. The Jesuits and Franciscans themselves wrote grammars and dictionaries of "contact Portuguese" for evangelization. Its decline in the East would only begin in the 18th century. But Portuguese continued to take root in Africa and Brazil and remains in the East.
This is what defines our language as a tremendous legacy of history, one of Portugal's most powerful strategic assets. There are some quotes from great figures of Portuguese culture that sum it up perfectly. "My homeland is the Portuguese language" (Fernando Pessoa). "From my language you can see the sea" (Vergílio Ferreira). "The Portuguese language is a ship laden with voices" (Mia Couto). "The language is not ours, it is also ours" (Adriano Moreira). "The future empire will be of the Portuguese language" (Agostinho da Silva). And I add a thought from Harrie Lemmens, a Flemish translator of José Eduardo Agualusa, at a conference I organized in Brussels in 2008: "Those who speak Portuguese don't know the wealth they possess. You can travel across four continents without changing languages. I know. I have traveled across four continents."
The value reflected in these beautiful and true phrases is unfortunately largely overlooked, not to say abandoned, by the nation's leading decision-makers. These phrases emphasize the idea of the Motherland as a language, the close connection between our language and the sea, the diversity of peoples and specific cultures that have found refuge in this common tongue, and, ultimately, the universal destiny of the Portuguese language as a valuable and unique cultural and spiritual heritage.
Portugal possesses five or six major strategic assets (or resources, if you prefer), of which language is one of the most valuable. The others are: our people (ourselves); our territory; our sea; our geographic location; and our history. We lose out by not caring for them or giving them due consideration. They have enormous potential for growth and the country's affirmation on the continent and globally.
We share some of these assets with others and should be developed accordingly. For example, I advocate the "Portuguese, language of Europe" approach: in Europe, it is not only the language of the Portuguese, but also of the European Union and its member states when they wish to speak with us or with any Lusophone country. And I also affirm "Portuguese, language of Africa," "Portuguese, language of the Americas," "Portuguese, language of Asia," and "Portuguese, language of Oceania"—Portuguese is spoken on all continents, and it is important that it be spoken by those who wish to communicate with Lusophones around the world. It is in our interest to value the global presence of our language and, therefore, its multipolarity.
In the European Parliament (1999-2009), language was one of my main focuses in the "Portuguese, language of Europe" line. I defined the concept of "European languages of universal communication" (which would later evolve into "global European languages"): European languages spoken not only among Europeans, but shared with people on other continents. And in April 2003, the European Parliament approved, at my proposal, that "the Portuguese language is, in terms of the number of speakers, the third European language of universal communication." I repeatedly called attention to this opportunity, but no one, whether in diplomacy, government, or political leadership, followed through. The Portuguese language seems like a second-class, if not third-class, subject.
In November 2006, in the Resolution adopted within the framework of the Joan i Mari Report on the "new strategic framework for multilingualism," I presented and approved the principle of change, recognizing "the strategic importance of the European languages of universal communication as a vehicle of communication and as a form of solidarity, cooperation, and economic investment and, therefore, as one of the main guidelines of European policy on multilingualism." I again warned of this advance in the doctrine of European multilingualism policy. It was time to take action to promote the Portuguese language within European institutions and their programs—but nothing was done.
Thanks to the support of Ambassador Ana Martinho (then in the Office of the President of the European Commission), the Commission's 2008 initiative "Multilingualism: An asset for Europe and a shared commitment" included the line I had been advocating: "The European Parliament has drawn attention to the fact that some EU languages, referred to as 'European languages of universal communication,' are also spoken in a large number of non-member states on different continents (...). The main objective of this external dimension is to fully understand the potential of these EU languages spoken in third countries, to promote the teaching and learning of EU languages abroad and of those countries' languages within the EU through the exchange of knowledge, the exchange of good practices, and cooperation between stakeholder groups." I again called for the Commission and Parliament to align on valuing languages like Portuguese. Once again, nothing happened.
My experience in the European Parliament, regarding the Portuguese language, was full of struggles and disappointment. In almost all the parties, I never felt any genuine interest in the European and global status of the Portuguese language or its defense and promotion. The government didn't care, and REPER did little or nothing in this area. When it comes to national interests in the cultural and political sphere—that is, in the realm of intangible interests—what predominates among our decision-makers and courtiers is the mentality of give-ups or losers.
There were other struggles in Brussels until 2009, and then in the Assembly of the Republic until 2015, which speak for themselves. As is well known, the Treaties establish the same rights and equal status for the official languages of the Member States, which are also all official languages of the European Union—today, 24 languages in 27 Member States.
In 1993, the first blow came: the trademark regime, whose European body is in Alicante, established only five languages (German, Spanish, French, English, and Italian). Since the equal status of languages can only be changed by unanimous vote, this meant that Portugal approved its own exclusion from the "Alicante regime." And from 2010 to 2013, there was a new offensive on patents, with its body in Munich: a unified European regime was established with only three languages (German, French, and English). The unanimity shows that Portugal also voted in favor of its exclusion from the "Munich regime"—a highly tortuous and tricky affair, in which our national officials were consistently at fault.
What happens to Portuguese, the "third global European language," if it doesn't appear in the European system where three languages are in force? And what if Portuguese isn't even included in the European system where five languages are valid? It looks very bad. In the patent system, it looks really bad, as it disqualifies Portuguese as a technical and scientific language, which will likely cause it to fall irreparably behind, with serious harm to us and the entire Lusophone world. I've even seen the word "laiaute" typed on a typewriter, meaning (it took me a while to figure it out...) the English "layout." Perhaps this will become the new linguistic paradigm, who knows?

The current regime in the ACP/EU JPA is bureaucratic and ridiculous—it breaks records. It's a joint parliamentary assembly that brings together, in equal parts, MEPs and MEPs from former colonies (Africa, the Caribbean, and the Pacific). Although the Rules of Procedure follow the same linguistic regime as the EU, the ACP/EU JPA only uses two languages (English and French) for preparatory documents; and for oral interpretation in plenary sessions, there was a restrictive regime for other languages, based on the prior registration of a minimum number of MEPs from the European country of that language. After much struggle, the minimum number of MEPs was reduced, but the problem persists. In the case of Portuguese, the regime is especially ridiculous, since there are six Portuguese-speaking states that are not counted for anything: if there are three Portuguese MEPs, there is simultaneous interpretation, but if there are six Lusophone MEPs on the ACP side, they are not counted for anything according to the bureaucrats' criteria. The main problem is not so much oral interpretation, but the circulation of preparatory documents in Portuguese, the only way for our Portuguese-speaking colleagues, their professional, academic and media circles to follow the progress of the work and for it to receive the necessary feedback and influence in a timely manner.
After 2009, no one took any interest in this, and as far as I know, everything remains the same: in the ACP/EU, the Anglophone and Francophone empire rules. Lusophony? "Don't know..." It's as if Portugal hadn't been a member state since 1986, and the newly independent countries with Portuguese as an official language hadn't been in the ACP, some since 1975 and 1979. Portugal has never worked to defend the rights of our language, establish its position, or affirm the status of Lusophony.
Occasionally , there's a vague, belated, and lazy awakening to the value and status of the Portuguese language. But always more ready to give up than to fight. Now, the added challenge of another tricky issue has arisen, where we allow ourselves to be spun around and often flounder: the so-called "Iberophony"—as if there were an Iberian language... Experience has led me to conclude that Portugal is the most incompetent Lusophone country. We contrast, for the worse, with Brazil and Angola, which weigh heavily in their regional—and even global—contexts due to their size and wealth. And we also contrast, for the worse, with East Timor, an example to all, with strategic sense, sound choices, persistence, and tenacity.
The European Union's linguistic system is excellent, which further highlights our lingering incompetence. We are the ones who are bad. If, in decisive moments, we stop to consider what happened when we lost, we will see the childishness in our actions. Childishness in timidity, childishness in dazzlement, childishness in subservience, childishness in indifference, childishness in shaking the water off our coat.

I've been wondering why so many leaders don't see, even instinctively, the extraordinary value of the Portuguese language as a great international language. And why they don't champion it on all fronts and opportunities. The explanation I've found is that "Portuguese," an international language, is relatively recent: it's only about 50 years old, and the change hasn't yet fully taken hold. Until 1975, Portuguese was a matter for two: Portugal and Brazil. And, until 1822, only for Portugal. Brazil made Portuguese enormous after 1822. And the new countries after 1975 demonstrated Portuguese as broad, extensive, and multicontinental. Now, all Lusophones possess the language as their own, not just the colonizer. If this explanation is correct, language policy will be more conscious and, therefore, active in the future, if time overcomes childishness and stimulates our intelligence, vision, and strategy. Hopefully!
The other great ally is demographics. In fact, life happens, despite the blunders. Demographics demonstrate the exponential growth of the Portuguese-speaking world, as seen in the table below. We must rise to this call and this challenge. We are the third most spoken European language worldwide, the fifth most spoken globally as a mother tongue or official language on five continents, the most spoken language in the Southern Hemisphere, and one of the fastest-growing languages on the internet. And all of this will strengthen in the future, as these figures from the United Nations (2019) show. The first four columns show the evolution from 1950 to 2100, in 50-year intervals; the last presents the figures closest to today, specifically in 2019.

Each person will make their own calculations, according to their own taste or criteria or objectives. And I'll highlight some general aspects. First, the Lusophony is growing significantly, multiplying sevenfold from 1950 to 2100—it multiplied threefold from 1950 to 2000 and is expected to multiply 2.3fold from 2000 until the end of the century. Second, the Lusophony is consolidating its leadership in the Southern Hemisphere, reaching 495 million speakers by 2100. Third, the weight of the Lusophony in the world is also increasing: in 1950, it represented about 3% of the world population; by the end of the 21st century, it will represent about 5%.
Will we be able to read and understand these numbers and the challenges and opportunities they represent? Will we be able to appreciate and evaluate them, together with Angola, Brazil, Cape Verde, Guinea-Bissau, Macau, Mozambique, Portugal, São Tomé and Príncipe, and Timor-Leste? Will we be able to establish common platforms, regardless of each country designing the most appropriate platform for its specific situation and regional framework? Will we be able to become competent and persistent? King Dinis, who made the language official, created the University, and founded the Navy, could well inspire us.
In a 2008 interview, in the context I described above, I argued that "the Portuguese language should be the priority of the country's cultural policy for the next decade." Where this is already going... And I added: "This priority must also permeate the country's foreign policy and European policy." It's still a long way off... So I can say the same for the next decade or, better yet, until the end of the century. It's a serious language policy that we lack. It doesn't exist. And it must exist.
Ah! How I miss D. Dinis!
[The articles in the Portugal 900 Years series are a weekly collaboration of the Historical Society of the Independence of Portugal. The authors' opinions represent their own positions.]

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