About Esperanto
Sunday, September 18th, 2011Esperanto was a project to create a neutral second language for everybody to use. It was created by a teenager over a century ago. Since its publication it has grown from a one-man project to a community of tens or hundreds of thousands, including fifth-generation speakers.
As a teenager growing up in the divided city of Białystok in the Russian-ruled Poland of the 1870s, student Ludwik Zamenhof mournfully observed that the accident of birth that decided in which area of the city you were born (and, thus, your religious, ethnic, and linguistic background) determined the people that you would consider your friends, and those from whom you shied away.
All around him others thought in terms of labels: Jew, Russian, Pole. It filled him with dismay to see that an errant foot in the wrong neighbourhood would see a man assaulted on account of being an outsider. Observing the prejudice and discrimination that characterised his city, he thought to himself that a principal barrier that separated these groups was that of language. If people could greet one another, express regret or gratitude, or verbalise pain, maybe then they could see each other as fellow human beings. He theorised that Białystok would cease to be so volatile, if its people had access to an additional language, commonly spoken by all of them.
Himself a speaker of a number of tongues, he put his mind to deciding what that common language could be. In the first instance, he had to rule out one of the languages native to the ethnic groups of Białystok, since the perception there would be that one of the groups’ languages (and, by extension, culture and native speakers) was superior to the others’. Imposing A’s language on B and C not only resembles imperialism; it also poses a greater burden on the two groups who have to learn the the other’s native tongue. Hardly the ideal solution to a spawned of perceived inequality.
This being the case, he had to extract a suitable language from outside of those spoken in his home city. It’s likely that others would have done just that. Young Ludwik didn’t. Just as it was not his wont to distinguish himself from non-Polish-speaking Jews in Białystok, nor was it his inclination to do so with people from outside of Białystok. Ludwik was thinking of all people, everywhere. For this reason, there was no national language that could be a fair and just common second language, since it would always be someone’s native tongue.
The solution, then, was to plan a second language. To create one.
Ludwik was not the first person to have tried to create a language. The first on record appears to have been penned in the twelfth century, and no lesser a respected figure than René Descartes (he of “I think, therefore I am” fame) had recognised the need for a neutral tongue and tried his hand at inventing one.
The youngster spent the next several years crafting his language. His first draft of his lingwe universala was prepared in 1878. By 1887, now in his mid-20s, he had finished his third draft, and printed books of his Internacia Lingvo. Interestingly, that was the language’s name, rather than that by which we know it. Ludwik used the pen-name “Doktoro Esperanto” when writing about his creation; in the language itself, Esperanto means “one who hopes” (so “Doctor Hopeful”), and adherents soon applied this name to Ludwik’s project itself.
Esperanto hasn’t risen to its earlier promise to be the common second language for all people. But it has achieved in other areas and, for those of us that speak and use it, proves to be a worthwhile pursuit that I’d recommend to anybody who showed an interest. Other people can give their own stories, as they do in this 24-page booklet, which I think provides an extremely good way of reading how Esperanto plays an important, enjoyable role in people’s lives in the twenty-first century.







Anyway, aided and abetted by Google China’s logo today, I’d like to wish well on Zamenhof Day to any and all curious souls who may have stumbled upon this blog entry.


