Younger and younger

When out cycling around my Tokyo suburb I sometimes see a group of small children playing in the park with their teacher. Most of them look Japanese, but he looks European. And they all chatter away in English. They are from a pre-school popular not only with the small number of foreign parents in my locality but also with many Japanese who hope their kids will grow up to be bilingual.

It was not until this year that English classes were officially introduced into the Japanese elementary school curriculum, after many years of experiments and debate about whether this would mean too much work for children and teachers alike. But increasing numbers of parents are circumventing the standard education system by finding opportunities for their children to learn English. In 2006 it is estimated that 21% of Japan’s five-year-olds were taking private lessons. Are their parents’ expectations realistic?

Yuko, a Tokyo housewife who tries to teach her daughter basic English after she comes home from elementary school, feels Japan’s education system is in crisis and wants her child to have chances that she never had because of her own poor English - including the possibility of going to an overseas university. Doubts about Japanese higher education are growing as the decline in the birth-rate forces many universities to lower standards in order to compete for fewer and fewer students. But for Akiko, an elementary schoolteacher, Yuko’s views are unrealistic. Teaching English to young children means either increasing total classroom hours or reducing time spent on other subjects. And she worries that ability to read and write Japanese will decline.

Almost everyone knows of some child picking up two or more languages quite easily by being in a multilingual environment. But the evidence that young kids learn languages much more easily than older ones is not as clear as many people think. One of the strongest factors in language acquisition is the amount of exposure. It is rare for older children, let alone adults, to be able to immerse themselves in another language because they have so many activities in their lives. But if they did, perhaps they could learn quickly too.

Many other Asian countries have been much more enthusiastic about early English. In the major cities of China and Taiwan, children start the language from grade one, and those parents who can afford it have their kids in private English classes from much younger – a practice that is increasingly common in Saudi Arabia too, where state schools don’t offer English until age ten. In South Korea, where English starts in the third grade at state schools, 74% of children get a head start by taking private lessons in the 1st and 2nd grade. There are even English DVDs for babies. In a survey conducted by Park Yaku of Gyeonggi National University of Education, over a third of parents of 1st- and 2nd-graders said they spent $60 – 100 a month on these classes. Significantly, parents said they would be likely to spend even more on private English if the government carries out plans to introduce the language from the 1st grade. “It’s not that I’m so crazy about English,” one young father told me. “I just don’t have much choice. If I don’t send my son [to private English classes] he’ll fall behind the others.”

Bangladesh

In many of the countries frequently mentioned in this blog, English is a practical tool of communication for people with different language backgrounds. India, for example, has hundreds of languages, thirty of them spoken by communities of more than a million people. Although Hindi is widely understood in the north, it is less well-known – and less loved – in the south. English is often the choice for inter-regional communication, and is also favoured by the educated elite. In neighbouring Bangladesh, however, the picture is quite different. Except in a few remote areas, virtually all of its 160 million people speak Bangla/Bengali.

Indeed Bangla, which is also spoken in India and ranks sixth among the world’s languages, was a major reason for the creation of the country. Formed originally into East Pakistan when India was divided into Muslim and Hindu territories at independence in 1947, the Bengali people came to feel isolated and disadvantaged by policies made in more powerful – but less populous – West Pakistan that favoured the Urdu language. Reinforced by economic problems, linguistic nationalism led to a war with the West resulting in the foundation of Bangladesh in 1971. Bengalis remain proud of their language and less than 3% of them speak English. Rabindranath Tagore, who was from over the border in Calcutta but owned land in what is now Bangladesh, was the first Asian to win the Nobel Prize for Literature. Although educated in London, he wrote mostly in Bangla.




Despite all this, English has a prominent position in Bangladesh. It is used widely in higher education and law – indeed it is the only language of the higher courts, and lawyers who are poor in English cannot expect to get well-paid work. It is also considered the key to business success. The streets of Dhaka are full of advertisements for English courses.


Why should English be so important even in a country where most people speak the same language and are proud of doing so? Perhaps it is partly because of economics. While conditions have improved greatly in recent years, Bangladesh remains one of the world’s poorest countries. Trading, working and studying overseas are seen as crucial to economic improvement.

God's language or devil's tongue?

Sightseeing at a small temple in Phnom Penh, I noticed a group of young monks busy studying in a corner. At first I thought it better not to disturb them, but when some of them saw a foreigner they shyly approached me. Instead of reading Khmer books about Buddhism, as I had expected, they were holding photocopies of Headway, a textbook for learning English. I soon found myself helping with their conversation practice. Buddhist temples have always been a place for general education, as well as religious studies, so it is unsurprising that English is on the curriculum for many monks. Most Southeast Asian monks enter temples only for short periods of their lives, so many of them think that English will be useful when they have to look for a job.

However, English is also increasingly connected to the Buddhist religion. More and more books are being published in English on the subjects such as Buddhist doctrine and meditation. Several temples in Burma, Sri Lanka and Thailand offer courses on Buddhism and meditation for foreigners in English.The World Fellowship of Buddhists is based in Bangkok and has a Thai president, but its executive members include Americans, Australians and Malaysians, and its general conferences are in English.


English and Christianity have a long connection in Asia. Of course the religion originated in the western part of Asia, where some of the world’s oldest communities are found. But more Asian Christians, especially in the east of the continent, were influenced by missionaries from America and Europe. Some of them were attracted to the religion through the English language.

Initially, British colonial authorities were reluctant to support Christian missionaries, fearing they might interfere with local power structures. So in India, missionaries went into remote areas that the colonisers knew little about and offered education to people who had been economically and politically isolated. In such places few people had a use for English, so the missionaries were quick to learn local languages and to translate the Bible and prayers into them.


Until the late 19th century Japan resisted missionary activity, but industrialisation brought a new interest in western education and new opportunities for Christians. Sophia University was set up by Jesuits in 1913 and remains one of the leading choices for students who want to study in English. Aoyama Gakuin was established by Methodists in 1949, and in the same year International Christian University was set up after a fundraising campaign by churches in New York. English-speaking students can enter ICU without knowing Japanese, and 7% of its undergraduates are from overseas, the largest numbers coming from the United States and South Korea. Koreans preferring to study at home might attend Yonsei University, an amalgamation of the Presbyterian Jejungwon Hospital, founded in 1885, and Chosun Christian College (1915). It offers many courses in English and is considered one of the country’s top universities.


Some of the most interesting debates about English and religion are in Muslim parts of Asia. Many Muslims remain concerned that English helps to spread non-Islamic values. Education in some Muslim countries emphasises English for scientific and economic advancement but not for cultural and social subjects. In a survey by Saudi linguist Sultan-al-Hamza (1), 82% of students at King Saud University, and 96% of students at Jordan University preferred to study religion, history, literature and education in Arabic, while wanting English for science. On the other hand, Malaysia’s International Islamic University teaches nearly all of its classes in English. As Malaysian linguist Asmah Haji Omar points out, to know English is to have access to a vast store of Islamic literature.

Small country, many languages

When East Timor (Timor Leste/Timor Lorosae) became the first new country of this century in 2002, language was hardly at the top of its list of problems. 500 years of colonial occupation but little economic development by Portugal, followed by 24 years of oppressive rule by neighbouring Indonesia, had left the country poor, divided and isolated. Worse, when the Indonesians withdrew in 1999, their army and its supporters destroyed most of the infrastructure and killed or kidnapped thousands of people. Although finally independent, the Timorese had little choice but to turn to foreigners for help, and various UN-related organisations are to be seen everywhere dominating educational, economic and social policy. Slowly, this country on the southeast edge of Asia is getting back on its feet. But language problems are occupying more and more of the government's time.



With a population of only a million or so, Timor Leste has at least 26 local languages. One of them, Tetun Prasa, is understood quite widely, but it has never been used much for education, business, government or law. Portuguese was the main language of education for the people who fought against the Indonesians and now control the government. But less than 15% of the population understand it, and Timor is far from from other Portuguese-speaking countries such as Brazil, Mozambique, and Portugal. Indonesian is more easily learnt and remains widely understood not only because of the occupation but also because many teachers continue to train in Indonesia. But many government officials are reluctant to promote the language of their former enemies. And then there is English. Australia, only 90 minutes away by plane, is the most active country in the UN bodies helping to rebuild the country. Other UN and NGO workers mostly use English when they consult each other. And increasing numbers of Timorese are interested in learning the language so they can study or work overseas.



Timor's 2002 Constitution makes both Tetun and Portuguese official languages while giving a role to Indonesian and English as working languages. But can a small, poor country afford to support four languages? And what about the 25 other local languages? As in many poor countries, most people take a very pragmatic view, learning whatever language they think can best get them an education and a job, and often speaking several of them very well. Meanwhile the government is allowing Tetun to be used in the legal system and making efforts to modernise the language. Thousands of technical terms have been borrowed from Portuguese, and some from English and Indonesian. But this makes the language even more difficult for people far from the main towns to understand.

The other world language

All around Asia there seems to be an irreversible expansion in the use of English. Even corners of the continent that resist Anglo-Saxon-dominated capitalism are not immune. North Korea’s national news agency, Naenara, regularly publishes articles in English in order to reach a wider audience. English is used for propaganda on the banners displayed at international sports matches in Pyongyang. However, we should be cautious about assuming that the growth of English is inevitable.

For one thing, the language gap between Asia’s influential, affluent elite and its urban and especially rural poor remains huge. Karachi, Pakistan's largest city, has middle-class areas where families use English more than any other language, but it has far more areas where children get very little schooling at all, let alone in English. While every child in Seoul studies English, there is a big contrast between some wealthy suburbs south of the river (Kangnam), where there is an English-language kindergarten on almost every street, and the older, poorer Kangbok districts to the north where it can be hard to find a shopkeeper or taxi-driver who understand even a few words of English. English-language skills are often cited to explain the rapid modernisation of India’s economy, but it must be remembered that perhaps no more than 4% of the population can use the language proficiently.

For another, as British linguist David Graddol points out, while English continues to grow as a second language, the proportion of the world’s population speaking it as a first language is actually falling. Hindi and Arabic speakers are increasing faster. Chinese has far more first-language speakers, and while population growth in China is slowing, the number of non-Chinese learning Mandarin is exploding.

It has been estimated that over 30 million people are currently studying Chinese. South Koreans are especially enthusiastic, aware that their country now does more trade with China than America. But Mandarin-learners are also growing in the UK, where there are now over 80 secondary schools teaching the language. At Hawkesdown House, a private school in an affluent part of London, four-year-olds are learn it. Some British parents even hire Mandarin-speaking nannies for their children. Still greater interest can be found in Australia and New Zealand, where courses for European languages and even Japanese struggle to compete. America is not known for its enthusiasm for foreign languages, but the Senate Foreign Relations Committee recently considered allocating $1.3 billion for Chinese language and culture classes in public schools.



The strongest motivation for studying the language is economic, of course. The economies of China and several of its neighbours consistently outperform the EU and US. Recently the Asian Development Bank predicted that less than 1.25% of East Asians will be living below the poverty line by 2020. The world has never seen a manufacturing expansion like the one occurring in China now, and it seems everyone wants a piece of the action. Aware of the economic and also cultural advantages to be gained from global interest in their language, the Chinese government has set up Confucius Institutes around the world. The first opened in Seoul in 2004, and there are now nearly 300.

The number of Britons studying in China has grown since 2004 from 650 to 1400. Many have business or other professional qualifications and feel that adding Chinese language skills will give them an edge over competitors. Concerned about the possibility of foreign businessmen taking jobs from its own citizens, China’s Securities Regulatory Commission now requires high-ranking executives in the financial services sector to take a government test requiring a good standard of written and spoken Chinese.



While the expansion of China’s economy looks unstoppable, it is difficult to say whether current interest in its language will continue to expand. Over 200 million people are studying English in China, and it is likely that far more of them will become proficient in the language than the number of Americans and Britons who will become fluent in Chinese. The International Herald Tribune suggested that rather than pour dollars into learning Chinese, US high schools would do better to concentrate on improving maths skills, which are now below the standard of schools in China.

The other imperialists

English is a relative latecomer among the languages brought to Asia by European imperialists. Long before the British or Americans had any bases on the continent, Portuguese traders were active from the Middle East to Japan. By the 17th century their language had become a lingua franca for many Southeast Asian seamen. Portuguese words adopted by Asian languages include almariya (cupboard) and iskolaya (school) in Sinhala, jendela (window) and meja (table)) in Indonesian, and pan (bread) and tabako (tobacco) in Japanese. Some people believe arigato comes from obrigado.

Despite the long colonial influence, however – Macau was the first European colony in Asia (1557) and also the last, returning to Chinese control in 1999 – how many Asians today speak Portuguese? While it continues to be an official language of Macau and remains important in the legal system, Cantonese is far more widely spoken, with 93.4% using it as a first or additional language. Many people in Sri Lanka have Portuguese names, but very few can speak what was once a lingua franca there.

We see a similar situation with other European languages. The Philippines were a Spanish colony for 350 years and both Tagalog and Philippines English are full of loanwords such as fiesta and presidente; yet a mere 2,658 of the 93 million Filipinos use Spanish as a first language. The Dutch, who controlled the East Indies for 400 years, brought numerous everyday words such as hantuk (towel) and kamar (room) to the Indonesian language. We also find many Dutch words in Malay and Sinhala. But very few Indonesians, Malays or Sri Lankans speak the language.

In all the above countries, English is now much more important than European languages that preceded them. Even in Macau, which was never a British colony, over 12% of Macanese claim to speak English, compared to only 2.7% using Portuguese as a first or additional language there. The fate of Portuguese, Spanish and Dutch in Asia seems to suggest that colonisation is not the main reason for the spread of languages. Military alliances and access to jobs and global trade may be more important.

In recent years, some Asian countries have re-emphasised their links with former European occupiers. In August 2007, for example, Philippine President Arroyo announced that Spanish would be reinstated as an official language. But it will be trade with Spain and Latin America rather than government policy that determines whether the language increases in importance.

There was some surprise when Timor Leste chose Portuguese as an official language when it gained independence from Indonesia in 2002. Most of its 220 million speakers are in far-away Europe, Africa and South America, and few Timorese know the language as well as Indonesian or the local lingua franca, Tetum. However, Timor had been a Portuguese colony for 500 years before being invaded by Indonesia, and Portuguese had symbolic importance for groups resisting Indonesian rule. Tetum was considered too underdeveloped to be used exclusively for education and law, and Indonesian is too closely associated with the military occupation. So Portuguese and Tetum were made co-official languages. This complex situation has created a growing unofficial role for English, which many locals hope will help them get jobs with Australian and other international NGOs operating in the country.



In recent decades France has gained a reputation for resisting the global spread of English, promoting French language and culture through L’organisation internationale de la Francophonie, which now has 55 member states. It might therefore be expected that French would have fared better than Portuguese, Spanish and Dutch in former Asian colonies. But it is probably only in Lebanon, in the far west of the continent, that French is as important as English. Although neighbouring Syria was under French rule for as long as Lebanon, it has been less exposed to international business. Few Syrians know any language other than Arabic, but those who do are more likely to speak English than French.

We find similar stories in the region once ruled by France as Indochine. As late as the 1970s most private schools in Laos, and the one public lycée (secondary school) in Vientiane, taught in French, but Lao seems largely to have displaced the language in the public sector and English in the private.


The first wave of Vietnamese escaping communism tended to know French and headed for Paris, but subsequent groups were more interested in the United States and English. In Cambodia, French – and even Russian and Vietnamese – were more important than English until the 1990s, but in recent years Phnom Penh has seen protests by university students against compulsory French classes.

Military exercises

When a friend and I were trekking in Nepal twenty years ago we found very few locals able to speak English, but every so often we would pass someone working in a field with whom we could chat fluently. Usually these were older men who had been Gurkhas – Nepalese soldiers who serve with the British or Indian army.

Under international law the Brigade of Gurkhas are an integral part of the British army, yet only in 2007 were their pensions raised to the value of those of their UK comrades; even now the Ministry of Defence appears to be trying to reduce its financial commitment through a policy of early retirement. But there is no shortage of support when it comes to strategies to promote military efficiency, and language is at the centre of these. The Gurkha Language Wing organises courses “to equip Gurkha soliders to operate alongside multinational forces,” including a 9-week English programme for new recruits.

Clearly it is crucial that participants in international training exercises and actual operations are able to understand each other, and the number of such collaborations is increasing. NATO has expanded beyond the group of 12 North Atlantic nations which formed it in 1947. Turkey has been a member since 1952, and the break-up of the Soviet Union led to Individual Partnership plans with several other Asian countries including Azerbaijan and Kazakhstan. In 2004 the latter created a military language institute in Almaty to train officers in French, German, Turkish, Chinese and above all English.

Military English is now a significant and growing business. In 2005 a series of coursebooks for teaching military peacekeepers was shortlisted for an Elton, the ELT world’s equivalent of an Oscar. UK-based Military English Language Training Ltd advertises itself as far away as India as a “combination of English language teachers and former military personnel” with experience from British, NATO and UN operations. It targets members of overseas armed forces expecting to take part in multinational operations and its website http://www.military-english.co.uk/ includes pages in Arabic. The British Council has been particularly active in this field, managing a programme of Peacekeeping English projects on behalf of the UK’s Ministry of Defence and Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

But British military involvement in Asia is dwarfed by that of the United States, whose emergence by the end of the Second World War as a global military power was a major impetus behind the globalisation of English. In South Korea, for example, General Hodge set up an English military school in 1946 whose cadets included future president Park Chung Hee. The Korea Military Academy sought to adopt not only America’s military practices but also its doctrines and culture, with English language a key discipline. Today the Academy’s intensive English programmes target the whole cadet corps and aim “to cultivate officers capable of performing joint military operations with UN forces”. These include the four main annual exercises of the SK-US Combined Forces Command: Team Spirit, Ulchi Focus Lens, RSOI and Foal Eagle.

All the examples of military English mentioned above have been tools of powerful governments, but it should not be forgotten that English also has a small but significant role among Asia’s anti-government movements. Many of the ethnic-based forces fighting the Burmese government make extensive use of English to stay in contact with each other and the outside world. And when a faction of the Japanese Red Army hijacked a Japan Airlines flight in Dhaka in 1977 they refused to speak Japanese, even to the Japanese negotiator flown to Bangladesh. The tapes that survive from the incident reveal some of the communication problems that can occur when a well-educated but English-deficient group of hijackers try to convey threats about time limits and hostage executions to negotiators who either genuinely do not understand them or claim not to do so as a delaying tactic.