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Language Loyalties
Editor's
Introduction
By James Crawford
Official English caught most Americans by surprise. When
the campaign emerged in the early 1980s, language was an unlikely political
issue for the United States. The matter of our national tongue had long
since been settled – or so it seemed. At first, we paid little attention
to warnings about creeping bilingualism and the endangered status of English.
This sounded like nothing more than the buzzing of gadflies. Or perhaps,
as one New York Congressman suggested, it was "another of the crazy
California movements" with an apocalyptic vision to espouse. Who else
would claim that English needed "legal protection" in a country
where, according to the 1980 Census, it was spoken by all but 2 percent
of residents above the age of four and where only 11 percent were regular
speakers of another tongue?<1> A
new Babel hardly seemed imminent. Americans have seldom fought over language,
precisely because we have taken the dominance of English for granted. As
late as 1987, two-thirds of respondents to a national survey assumed that
the Constitution already designated English as the official language of
the United States.
In fact, the framers were silent on the question. No one
had even thought to broach it in Congress until Senator S. I. Hayakawa
did so in 1981. A critic of bilingual education and bilingual voting rights,
Hayakawa introduced a constitutional amendment to make English official.
That seemed innocuous enough, a ceremonial gesture to ratify the obvious
– except that it went further. The measure would also prohibit federal
and state "laws, ordinances, regulations, orders, programs, and policies"
from requiring the use of other languages. Its thrust was not only for
English, but against bilingualism. If adopted, Hayakawa's proposal
would reverse a trend begun in the late 1960s toward accommodating the
needs of linguistic minorities. But the English Language Amendment was
largely ignored, and it died without a hearing in the 97th Congress.
Then, shortly after retiring in 1983, the Senator helped
to found U.S. English, a lobbying effort that generated national attention.
Its program – "In Defense of Our Common Language" – was greeted
as a curiosity by journalists. "The Mother Tongue Has a Movement,"
announced The New York Times. A spectrum of luminaries including
Alistair Cooke, Saul Bellow, Walter Cronkite, Norman Cousins, Gore Vidal,
Norman Podhoretz, and Arnold Schwarzenegger signed up for the U.S. English
"advisory board," lending their prestige to its letterhead and
direct-mail fundraising. (Later, several would resign in embarrassment.)
Official English now became fodder for right-of-center pundits. In a Fourth
of July column, George F. Will pontificated on "the connection between
the English language and American liberty." William F. Buckley, Jr.,
citing the "Canadian Frog" nuisance, endorsed Hayakawa's approach
for quelling our own "militant Spanish-speaking minority." Another
boost came when Phil Donahue featured the English Language Amendment on
his syndicated talk show, staged before thousands of screaming guests in
a Miami stadium.<2> "I
English"
bumper-stickers began to appear in Florida and other areas feeling the
impact of Hispanic and Asian immigration. Within five years U.S. English
mushroomed into a 400,000-member organization with a $6 million annual
budget.
Legislators, always on the lookout for novel issues, began
to climb aboard. Thirty-seven state houses considered Official English
in 1987 alone. It was also a hit with the voters. U.S. English passed ballot
initiatives in California and other Sunbelt states, usually by large margins;
elsewhere, opinion polls showed support ranging from 60 to 90 percent.
More than a dozen versions of the English Language Amendment have appeared
in Congress since Hayakawa's original proposal, attracting scores of cosponsors,
although none has yet come to a vote. The campaign has fared better in
the states. By 1990 seventeen had adopted statutes or constitutional amendments
declaring English their official tongue.
Despite the groundswell, however, Official English has
become a polarizing issue, revealing an enormous gap in perceptions. For
supporters, the case is obvious: English has always been our common language,
a means of resolving conflicts in a nation of diverse racial, ethnic, and
religious groups. Reaffirming the preeminence of English means reaffirming
a unifying force in American life. Moreover, English is an essential tool
of social mobility and economic advancement. The English Language Amendment
would "send a message" to immigrants, encouraging them to join
in rather than remain apart, and to government, cautioning against policies
that might retard English acquisition.
For opponents, Official English is synonymous with English
Only: a mean-spirited attempt to coerce Anglo-conformity by terminating
essential services in other languages. The amendment poses a threat to
civil rights, educational opportunities, and free speech, even in the private
sector. It is an insult to the heritage of cultural minorities, including
groups whose roots in this country go deeper than English speakers': Mexican
Americans, Puerto Ricans, and American Indians. Worst of all, the English
Only movement serves to justify racist and nativist biases under the cover
of American patriotism.
Sorting out the arguments and counter-arguments is no
easy task. This has been especially true for voters encountering the English
Language Amendment for the first time. Because Americans lack a tradition
of language politics – that is to say, a history in which language predominated
as a symbol, weapon, and stake of ethnic conflict – there is little information
or experience to apply. And yet, amending the Constitution is no casual
enterprise. It would be rash to go forward without answering a number of
pertinent questions:
- If declaring English the official U.S. language is a
good idea, why didn't it occur to anyone in the previous two hundred years?
What language legislation was adopted by Americans in the past and what
were the results?
- Are today's immigrants learning English more slowly or
more rapidly than their predecessors? Do bilingual programs discourage
assimilation by serving as a crutch, or promote it by easing newcomers'
passage into the mainstream?
- What would happen if government suddenly terminated its
use of languages other than English? Who would be affected and how?
- Is our situation comparable to Canada's, a bilingual
federation that may face dissolution because of ethnic and linguistic tensions?
Or Australia's, an English-dominant society where immigrant and indigenous
languages are conserved as national assets?
Serious discussion of these points has been limited. The
factual vacuum, however, seems to have done nothing to inhibit opinionated
bickering over Official English.
My first encounter with the campaign occurred in the mid-1980s
as a reporter for Education Week. William J. Bennett, then
Secretary of Education, had recently delivered a speech attacking the federal
Bilingual Education Act as "a failed path, a bankrupt course,"
and a waste of $1.7 billion of the taxpayers' money. This caused an uproar
in education circles. But Bennett's office announced it was receiving hundreds
of letters from the public, which were running more than five to one in
support of his views. As a newcomer to the bilingual education beat, I
thought it might be instructive to stop by and read the Secretary's mail
(along with public comments on new regulations he had proposed for bilingual
programs).
To my surprise, most of the "supporting" letters
had less to do with schooling for non-English-speaking students than with
illegal aliens on welfare, communities being "overrun" by Asians
and Hispanics, "macho-oriented" foreigners trying to impose their
culture on Americans, and – a special concern – the out-of-control birthrates
of linguistic minorities. Some writers singled out particular groups for
abuse: "Today's Hispanics, on the whole, lack the motivation of earlier
immigrants." Others worried that they would be "forced to learn
a foreign language" (i.e., Spanish) or that the interests of "the
English- speaking majority" would be sacrificed on the altar of affirmative
action. Several charged that providing bilingual education and bilingual
ballots was "an insult to the memory of my non-English-speaking ancestors,"
who allegedly had struggled to learn the language without any special help.
Many correspondents ended with calls for Official English: "WHOSE
AMERICA IS THIS? ONE FLAG. ONE
LANGUAGE."<3>
Obviously, a lot more was happening here than an arcane
debate over instructional methodologies. Bilingual education had become
a lightning rod for tensions about demographic and cultural change, increased
immigration from the Third World, reforms in civil rights, and the political
empowerment of minorities. Secretary Bennett's fans were in no mood to
be distracted by evidence and analysis. They were offended by the idea
of spending tax dollars to perpetuate foreign tongues, rather than requiring
immigrants to learn our language from the outset; of catering to newcomers,
who should be grateful to be here instead of demanding government handouts;
of creating rights and privileges for foreigners never granted to U.S.
citizens abroad; of subsidizing ethnic cultures, formerly a private matter,
rather than revering the public tradition of the melting pot; of devaluing
English and the American way of life. Amid all the outrage over symbols,
there was little awareness of the practicalities of bilingual education
– for example, its role in teaching English (which is demonstrably superior
to the brutal, sink-or-swim methods of the past) or its potential to nurture
vital skills in other languages (which is seldom realized, to the country's
misfortune).
This, in microcosm, is the state of the Official English
controversy. A mythic struggle is raging over models of Americanism, preconceptions
about immigrants and their place in the pecking order, shibboleths of belonging
and exclusion, and loyalties to tribal gods and national icons. Meanwhile,
back in the real world, linguistic diversity in increasing and posing challenges
for the United States.
To cite just one example: During the past decade the enrollment
of limited-English-proficient (LEP) children nearly tripled in California's
public schools, far outpacing the state's ability to train or recruit bilingual
and English-as-a-second-language (E.S.L.) teachers. Understandably, the
state is scrambling to serve speakers of the fastest growing language groups:
Cambodian, Hmong, Lao, Pilipino, Farsi, and Armenian. In raw numbers, however,
the shortage of qualified teachers is greatest for the 75 percent of California's
LEP students who speak Spanish.<4> According
to the U.S. Supreme Court in Lau v. Nichols,
children who receive no help in overcoming language barriers "are
effectively foreclosed from any meaningful education." Yet this is
the fate of many California pupils, who sit in classrooms unable to understand
what their teachers are saying. Such instruction as they receive is provided
by uncertified teacher aides and itinerant E.S.L. specialists. Ironically,
a state that has pioneered innovative bilingual programs is failing to
meet the demand for them, in part because of budget constraints, in part
because of ideological resistance. English Only fervor, culminating in
the passage of Proposition 63, frustrated attempts
to extend California's bilingual education law after it expired in 1987.
Now there is uncertainty about school districts' obligations toward language-minority
students, more of whom arrive each year. What is to be done?
It is time that Americans had a constructive discussion
about language policy, indeed, that we had a language policy, consciously
planned and national in scope. The question of Official English, which
has focused public attention on these problems for the first time in many
years, could supply the impetus. But not without a more informed debate.
While numerous excellent articles have appeared in recent years, no single
volume has been available to offer a multidimensional view of the issues.
The Source Book was conceived at the Conference
on Language Rights and Public Policy on April 16-17, 1988, organized by
the Stanford University Department of Linguistics and Californians United
Against Proposition 63. As its title and sponsorship suggest, the conference
brought together academics and activists (as well as language educators,
civil rights lawyers, business representatives, and public officials) who
oppose Official English and seek alternatives. One important goal of the
conference was to broaden the public discussion. Policy choices involving
language are asserting themselves in the schools, social service agencies,
courtrooms, voting booths, government licensing bureaus, places of employment,
and the consumer marketplace. Such decisions are far more complex than
an up-or-down vote on whether we should, in the words of Proposition 63,
"take all steps necessary to insure that the role of English as the
common language ... is preserved and enhanced." Whatever that may
mean. Debates over Official English tend to focus narrowly (and inconclusively)
on the legislation's likely effects, intended or otherwise, and on the
motives of supporters and opponents. More substantive matters tend to be
neglected.
Nevertheless, the Official English controversy is exerting
a strong influence on policymakers – which makes public education crucial.
The issue cannot be understood out of context, through fiery slogans and
thirty-second television spots. An intelligent position requires some knowledge
of: (1) the historic role of English in American identity and our past
responses to minority tongues; (2) the array of arguments for and against
Official English as they have developed in Congress and state campaigns;
(3) the sociological significance of language conflicts, for example, their
impact in various U.S. communities; (4) legal precedents on language and
civil liberties, as well as the constitutional questions raised by Official
English; (5) implications of linguistic diversity for American schools,
in particular the contention surrounding bilingual education; and (6) other
nations' experiences in grappling with language as a political problem
and an exploitable resource.
These topics of interest formed the agenda of the Stanford
conference, and they define this anthology as well. The goal of the Source
Book is to provide a comprehensive guide to today's language policy
debates. It is intended to aid advocates, educators, policymakers, scholars,
and citizens seeking to join this fascinating and important discussion.
Besides reprinting what I regard to be the strongest existing articles
in each subject area, I have solicited original contributions from conference
participants and other experts. Also, I have collected relevant primary
documents: court decisions, legislation, historical writings, and Congressional
testimony. Finally, I have included samples of advocacy on both sides of
the Official English question.
The intent here is not to offer "equal time"
to opposing views, but to elaborate and clarify the central arguments.
My own bias, and the bias of those who have supported this project, should
be stated clearly: Adopting English as the official language would be a
backward step for this country. The English Only campaign offers at best
a simplistic answer to our language problems, at worst a vehicle for xenophobia.
This, I believe, is good reason to portray it accurately for purposes of
analyzing and responding to its claims. At the same time, I would emphasize
that the Source Book reflects a variety of opinion about many issues
apart from Official English.
A note on terminology: No attempt has been made to standardize
usage. Except in minor matters of spelling and punctuation, each author
retains full responsibility for his or her words. This includes the labeling
of Anglos, Americans, Anglo-Americans, non-Hispanic whites, Chicanos, Latinos,
Cubans, blacks, African Americans, Asians, Chinese Americans, Indians,
Native Americans, and similar political decisions. Also, the reader will
notice that the terms Official English and English Only often
appear as synonyms, a usage that warrants some explanation. Supporters
of Official English have objected to equating their position with English
Only, arguing that they are concerned solely with the language of government,
not of private speech. They neglect to acknowledge, however, that it was
U.S. English that first popularized the label during a 1984 California
initiative, entitled "Voting Materials in English Only." More
important for opponents, English Only highlights the restrictionist face
of Official English: its attempt not merely to recognize one language,
but to limit the use of others in government and other domains. The dispute
over terms has become a feature of the larger debate, and I see no reason
to restrict anyone's freedom of speech in the matter.
In the interest of readability, I have chosen articles
for their brevity or, failing in that, have abridged longer selections.
Where documents of a legal or historical nature have been excerpted, the
omissions are marked with elipses. For readers who prefer to skip around
rather than read straight through, there are frequent cross-references
to related articles and documents.
I want to acknowledge the generous support of the National
Education Association and, in particular, Mary Sosa, Wilbur Luna, and Gloria
Barajas of the N.E.A.'s Human and Civil Rights Division, who provided encouragement
and resources that made this volume possible. Additional support came from
Californians United through the auspices and financial management of the
Japanese American Citizens League. Edward Chen and Geoffrey Nunberg supplied
invaluable advice at every stage of the project, from conception through
final editing. Also, I am indebted to the numerous authors who contributed
original articles to fill gaps in the literature on U.S. language policy
and related issues. Finally, I want to thank Mary Carol Combs, former director
of the English Plus Information Clearinghouse and unequaled resource on
the Official English controversy, who first brought to my attention many
of the materials collected here.
1. The latter figure is probably overstated; 11 percent
of U.S. residents above the age of four lived in households where
a language other than English was spoken, while 98 percent reported that
they spoke English "well" or "very well"; U.S. Bureau
of the Census, United States Summary, General Social and Economic
Characteristics (1980), Table 99, p. 68.

2. New York Times, June 3, 1984, sec. 4, p. 8; George
F. Will, "In Defense of the Mother Tongue," Newsweek,
July 8, 1985, p. 78; William F. Buckley, Jr., "Avoiding Canada's Problem,"
National Review, Oct. 18, 1985, pp. 62-63; Lourdes Meluza,
"Donahue Touches Bilingual Nerve in Show's Finale," Miami
Herald, Feb. 8, 1986, p. 1B.

3. For more samples of these letters, see my book,
Bilingual Education: History, Politics, Theory,
and Practice, 3rd ed. (Los Angeles: Bilingual Educational
Services, 1995) pp. 13, 66.

4. The state's language census identified more than
743,000 LEP students in 1989, up from 288,000 in 1979. By 1990 California
faced a shortfall of approximately 11,000 bilingual teachers; see Assembly
Bill 4308 (March 2, 1990); California State Department of Education, Bilingual
Education Office, BEOutreach, Jan. 1990, p. 1.
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: From LANGUAGE LOYALTIES:
A SOURCE BOOK ON THE OFFICIAL ENGLISH CONTROVERSY, by James Crawford, published
by the University of Chicago Press. Copyright © 1992 by the University
of Chicago. All rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance
with the fair-use provisions of U.S. copyright law, and it may be archived
and redistributed in electronic form, provided that this entire notice,
including copyright information, is carried and provided that the University
of Chicago Press is notified and no fee is charged for access. Archiving,
redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium,
requires the consent of both the author and the University of Chicago Press.

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