Abstract
Debates on language rights as integral elements of human rights have gathered momentum since the early 1990s. International organisations such as the Council of Europe (CoE) and the United Nations (UN) have advocated linguistic rights through various charters and conventions, albeit with wavering levels of success. This article focuses specifically on the European context and the manner in which the CoE has dealt with language rights in the continent. The European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), the European Charter for Regional and Minority languages (ECRML) and the Framework Convention for the Protection of National Minorities (FCPNM) are discussed in light of the region’s contemporary linguistic makeup. Current inequalities in the application of language recognition provide an area of special concern. For example, while speakers of ‘indigenous’ (or autochthonous) minority languages have apparently enjoyed an improving status in recent decades, the position of immigrant (or allochthonous) languages is less clear and current approaches largely ignore linguistic diversity which has been brought by recent mass migration patterns, leading to a somewhat exclusionary system. Through the discussion possible pathways for better inclusion of immigrant languages within current international frameworks, especially those of the CoE, are explored.
Keywords
Introduction
The emergence of nation-states in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was coterminous with the establishment of the concept of ‘national language’ through which administration of the state and national identity would be channelled (Bourdieu, 1991: 46). Such state-building, therefore, provided a sense of ‘normalisation’ and preferential treatment for speakers of the majority tongue, while rendering deviant and marginal those groups unwilling to assimilate linguistically (May, 2005: 322). These historical processes of linguistic nationalism, despite the claims of postmodernists, continue to influence systems of belonging and exclusion in contemporary states today (May, 2014a). Speakers of minority languages who have felt omitted from full inclusion within wider social structures such as education, commerce and civic life have often preserved their linguistic heritage through private ventures such as community schools, literary and cultural movements, or via campaigns for improved government support. Although some states continue to view the recognition of language minorities as potentially divisive for state identity, 1 others, especially from the twentieth century onwards – especially after the horrors inflicted on minorities in the Second World War – started to provide various aspects of official policy for speakers of lesser-used tongues (Pentassuglia, 2004: 9). In the 1980s and 1990s, growing regionalist agendas were discussed further within the framework of organisations such as the EU (Kockel, 2002: 186). 2 Trenz (2007) has noted that these ‘local’ agendas were facilitated, somewhat ironically, by globalisation. Pan-European integration, whilst championing ‘unity in diversity’ between states, also influenced notions of ‘unity in diversity’ within states, thus providing new platforms for the mobilisation of linguistic minorities. The result has been a gradual reassessment of relationships between national governments and their cultural minorities, a process increasingly channelled through international law.
Consequently, Europe has witnessed a growing system of minority protection in the past 25 years via organisations such as the Council of Europe (CoE). The CoE was established in 1949 to oversee the protection of human rights in the continent, and has included various language rights in a number of its provisions. Such provision to date, however, has been of most benefit to speakers of autochthonous (indigenous) minority languages. Despite a rise in global migration that has altered the linguistic make-up of European societies over the past century, there is much less focus on language rights for these communities within current frameworks. This is despite the fact that contemporary migration to, and within, Europe in recent decades has provided one of the greatest challenges to the myths of a monocultural and monolingual state. In 2011, there were over 33,000,000 foreign-born residents living in the EU, 3 while in some countries like Germany, Britain and France, numbers of foreign-born were larger than the overall population of other European states (Eurostat, 2011). Migration processes have been influenced by a pull towards core economic regions for employment or education, or even by historical colonial ties. Push factors such as natural disaster, war and poverty have equally contributed to migration patterns to Europe and this has been strikingly illustrated from 2015 onwards. Current trends indicate that diversity issues and questions on language rights will continue to gain prominence, even in those countries that previously had smaller migrant populations.
In the field of international law, as noted above, it is the minority regional languages of Europe that have, overall, witnessed a growing level of coverage within minority rights charters and also within the language policy of numerous states. This perception has been mirrored in some academic scholarship that has justified the right of a community to preserve its language on the basis of historical attachment to a particular territory, thus privileging the ‘sons of the soil’ (see Van Parijs, 2011). Indeed, such a principle has benefitted many autochthonous languages. However, the principle of historical attachment clearly does not apply to migrants and, despite the changing nature of European democracies, there is a remarkable lack of engagement with the position and status of immigrant languages (Nic Craith, 2006: 147). Such disparities, despite clear alterations to Europe’s linguistic map in the past 50 years, have extended to, not just state language planning but also to current provision within international minority rights law drafted by bodies such as the CoE. This article, therefore, provides an assessment of responses to linguistic diversity by the CoE through an evaluation of the coverage of linguistic rights in three relevant documents, the European Convention on Human Rights, the European Charter for Regional and Minority Languages and the Framework Convention for the Protection for National Minorities. Examples from past cases and published monitoring reports are drawn upon to illustrate the paucity of engagement with languages of immigrant communities – even when opportunity arises for such engagement to occur. While the paper refers specifically to the CoE as a case study, issues raised are also significant for the work of other bodies working in the area of human rights like the United Nations (UN) and the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE). This paper is timely in that it contributes to issues relating to the inclusion and exclusion of immigrant communities that are all too often problematised within wider discourses of global security. However, before moving to this debate I first assess theoretical considerations within which language diversity has been framed in policy and international law.
Language rights, liberal multiculturalism and political theory
Deliberations on multiculturalism and group-oriented cultural rights have, within political theory, been fervently debated since the 1990s. Such rights might include general language protections for an ethnic group from discrimination or more proactive measures by a state to actively support the maintenance and use of minority languages. While one school of thought advocates a more sympathetic stance towards group-oriented rights (Kymlicka, 1995; Kymlicka and Patten, 2003, May, 2001, 2005), another has been critical of such approaches (Michaels, 2006; Okin, 1999; Schlesinger, 1998). Group-oriented rights have been viewed with trepidation by many liberal theorists who fear the politicisation of ethnic identities, protection of illiberal practices and a subsequent detraction from other issues that are the real cause of social inequality and poverty (Barry, 2001: 305). Critics also argue that cultural rights are additional rights-based privileges that are not provided to other citizens and are, therefore, incompatible with individualistic democratic principles (Schlesinger, 1998: 153). Kukathas (1992), for instance, argues that individual rights are sufficient for members of ethnic minority groups to participate fully in the public space and there is no need for state interference in the arena of cultural expression, which should be maintained as a private matter.
Other opponents have taken umbrage with the advocacy of minority language rights in general. There is supposedly little reason for either immigrants or indigenous groups to protect their languages given that these speakers will ‘inevitably’ and ‘voluntarily’ shift from their mother language to one which seemingly provides better opportunity for social mobility and cohesion (Edwards, 1985, 2003). However, sociological analysis here rejects such assertions and stresses the role that undemocratic power structures have had in actively minoritising certain languages. In this case, language rights are justified as a means to redress inequitable processes such as colonisation, elements of cultural imperialism and institutional racism. Often, in the case of immigrants, the socio-economic context of speakers also shapes the status of a language itself which ultimately determines the political discourse surrounding that language. For example, Spanish, despite the opportunities potentially provided to speakers of such a global language, is often viewed as a barrier to integration in the USA when spoken by a Latino immigrant. Indeed, education policy has witnessed an increasing discouragement of Spanish/English bilingual programmes in some states in favour of English-only programmes. 4 In this case, the socio-economic standing, ironically of the group, is at the forefront in shaping the discourse about individual Spanish speakers themselves. Therefore, a rejection of language rights on the grounds that speakers will inevitably transition to a ‘language of progress’ is deeply flawed in its ignorance of wider social context.
In the debates between group-oriented versus individual rights, some scholars have also argued that social and historical factors cannot be ignored. Patten, for instance, notes that assumptions which prioritise individual rights ignore that majority populations often ‘seek to fashion the state in their own image’ and ‘see their own values, traditions, norms, and identity expressed in meaningful ways in public institutions’ (2014: 3). This process actively includes some groups more than others which has clear implications for civic participation and equality. Nowhere is this more evident than within national language policy where one vernacular is often promoted in the public space while non-majority languages are regularly viewed by authorities as barriers to integration (Kymlicka, 1995; Parekh, 2000; Taylor, 1994). Moreover, a focus only on individual rights ignores the fact that shared aspects of a person’s cultural identity, like language, are central to the overall makeup of their individual identity (see May, 2011: 267). Consequently, a school of thought which advocates group rights contends that providing minorities with rights which rebalance their marginal status is vital in pursuing more equal and democratic societies – an approach termed ‘liberal multiculturalism’. 5 Liberal multiculturalism maintains a fundamental support for individual liberal values, yet acknowledges the importance of cultural expression for members of minorities in fully accessing these freedoms. This might include a respect for religious belief, dress and customs or more advocative examples like state funding for community organisations, ethnically based schooling, or language recognition. 6 Liberal multiculturalism is, therefore, viewed by supporters such as Will Kymlicka, as central in assisting members of minority groups to participate more fully as active citizens in the public life of the state in which they reside. Thus liberal multiculturalism helps to incorporate various ethnic, linguistic and religious groups under a wider umbrella of state citizenship that still has the individual’s rights at its core (Kymlicka, 1995, 2007).
The major controversy, however, arises in relation to how liberal multiculturalists propose rights be applied to immigrants vis-a-vis indigenous national minorities. For instance, the deep historical attachment that an indigenous minority has to a particular territory is viewed as requiring some specific rights tailored to the needs of such communities. This might include the devolution of political authority to local/regional governments 7 which, in turn, might influence policy to support a regional language in areas like education, media, culture and wider public life. For instance, state-funded education in such regions might facilitate the learning of a regional language, or even full instruction in that language. Such significant civic support, as noted earlier, has often been justified as redress for aggressive historical processes of linguistic homogenisation by the state. These more robust measures are often classified as positive language rights (Kloss, 1971). 8
Immigrants, with a shorter historical connection to the territory, are viewed by some liberal multiculturalists as more likely to be making demands associated with integration (Kymlicka, 1995: 96). For instance, they might demand less robust inclusion of aspects of their culture and language within state education when compared with national minorities. Immigrants may also request publicly funded programmes which support acquisition of the majority language. Likewise, public sector interpreting might encourage engagement between immigrants and state in areas like health and the justice sector. While not on the same scale as demands made by national minorities, these could be described as ‘lighter’ variants of promotion-oriented rights. Another approach in the application of rights to immigrants may include only broad standards of non-discrimination through the introduction of race relations laws that protect groups (such as linguistic minorities), from overt prejudice in the wider public sphere. This approach has been drawn upon by those governments which avoid more active measures of support but which, nonetheless, have committed in principle to treat immigrant minorities justly. 9 Application of rights in this less robust way falls into Kloss’ (1971) description of tolerance-oriented rights.
The dichotomy between immigrants and national minorities described above has again irked those traditional/orthodox liberalists who have fundamental problems with the group-based focus of liberal multiculturalism (see Pogge, 2003). Differentiation between the two groups of minorities is illustrative for them of the inequalities that liberal multiculturalism facilitates because one category of minorities, indigenous groups, appears to be supported more than the category of immigrant minorities. Second, while it is likely that a state will be able to provide support to its established indigenous group, the sheer number of different immigrant minorities in superdiverse societies renders it unlikely in practical terms that all these groups can be recognised in the same way – yet another example of differential treatment. For example, while in some cases it might be feasible for larger immigrant groups to receive more significant financial state support (or positive rights), other smaller groups may be covered only by general notions of non-discrimination. In some cases, proactive policy responses to certain immigrant groups might be encouraged by a government if an immigrant group is large enough to have substantial weight at election time. In such cases governmental self-interest might be the rationale for support, rather than a search for equality. However, supporters of liberal multiculturalism argue that, overall, this is a process which actively increases the scope of rights to members of marginalised groups and thus extends the reach of democratic values.
Despite the reservations, at a practical level a multicultural agenda has emerged as a prominent framework within many states and global human rights organisations. 10 General tendencies, as will be illustrated throughout this paper, have witnessed more robust application of promotion-oriented rights to national minorities while tolerance-oriented rights have, more often than not, been regarded as appropriate for immigrants (Kymlicka and Patten, 2003). Tolerance rights, however, have frequently been interpreted by states as requiring a largely apathetic attitude. In practical terms, this is especially problematic when there is a large immigrant group on a given territory and a state’s apathetic response might be construed by that group as social and cultural marginalisation. When a sizeable immigrant community is requesting language support it is difficult for a state to ignore this entirely and, in some instances, a ‘where numbers warrant’ principle has been drawn upon to apply some promotion-oriented rights to such groups. This pathway to rights for immigrants has controversially been situated within a number of international charters and conventions, such as the CoE’s Framework Convention for the Protection of National Minorities (FCPNM), yet it has rarely been utilised in the application of this legal mechanism to date. While a tactic like this might be criticised as creating distinctions between larger and smaller immigrant communities, it at least attempts to increase the scope for applying language rights. As May (2014b: 388) notes, such pathways in international law provide ‘greater linguistic democracy’ which ‘is not necessarily the same as ethnolinguistic equality’. Therefore, this paper notes that while it is useful to draw distinctions between the language rights of immigrants and national minorities in some circumstances, this need not become an intransigent approach that compartmentalises national minorities and immigrants into two very different spectrums of inflexible coverage. Given that social, cultural, historical and, indeed, contemporary contexts for policy-making differ from one jurisdiction to the next, an approach which is more considerate and open to these complex conditions is required.
It is the issue of improving the application of language rights to immigrants in Europe that forms a central point of concern throughout this chapter. Special attention is placed on the CoE, an organisation concerned with furthering ‘European unity, protecting human rights and facilitating social and economic progress’ (Clements, 1994: 2), and which has also played a fundamental role in advocating language rights in the continent. I look at three pieces of CoE legislation and analyse the approach towards language rights within them. First, I consider the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) and the European Charter for Regional and Minority Languages (ECRML) which might be considered less flexible in their approach. Finally, I reflect upon the FCPNM which, although potentially more accommodative to migrants due to its legal design, has seen only limited discussion of allochthonous language rights. Here, I am critical of the FCPNM’s monitoring procedure that has not adequately progressed this matter in the 20 years since the document was drafted, despite the potential to do so. Discussion of this legislation also provides an empirical base by which to explore the many theoretical concerns raised above. This article, it should be noted, is not arguing for a whole system of new rights for immigrant groups, or indeed for new legislation. Rather, it is concerned with exploring the potential of already existing mechanisms, especially the FCPNM, as a means of widening the reach/scope of language rights in contemporary Europe to include the languages of immigrant populations.
The ECHR and the ECRML: a restrictive approach to language rights?
European convention on human rights
The ECHR, the CoE’s founding document, was opened for ratification in 1950 and since then its purpose has been to safeguard the civil and political rights of citizens in CoE states (Leach, 2001: 3). New members of the CoE are required to ratify the Convention that allows individuals or groups to take a case to the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) when there is an allegation of a human rights abuse by a signatory state. 11
Although language rights are not explicitly expressed within the ECHR, by implication, a number of articles have relevance for linguistic minorities. Article 14 on discriminatory practices notes that ‘[t]he enjoyment of the rights and freedoms set forth in this Convention shall be secured without discrimination on any ground such as sex, race, colour, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, association with a national minority [emphasis added], property, birth or other status’ (CoE, 1950, Article 14). Therefore, while language rights are not explicit, general principles of non-discrimination on the basis of language are protected here (Paz, 2013: 165). Rather than providing language rights per se, Article 14 ensures that all individuals are entitled to rights detailed in the ECHR, irrespective of the language they speak (CoE, 1950: 178). Similarly, Article 10 upholds freedoms of expression which effectively ensures that parties to the Convention cannot prohibit the use of a language in their territory.
Article 5 identifies rights to liberty and security, noting that anyone under arrest, ‘shall be informed promptly, in a language which he understands, of the reasons for his arrest and of any charge against him’ (CoE, 1950: Article 5). Likewise, Article 6 on the right to fair trial states that interpreters should be available if defendants cannot understand the language of court proceedings (CoE, 1950: Article 6). Articles 5 and 6 have had most direct implication for language policy within signatory states as they have instigated wider debates on criminal justice interpreting. Even though many variations can be found in policy and practice, formalisation of this sector has occurred in numerous European countries as a result of these debates (Vogler, 2015). 12 Requirements within the ECHR have also acted as a catalyst for change within pan-European organisations. For example, in 2010, a ‘Directive on the right to interpretation and translation in criminal proceedings’ was introduced to reinforce ‘common minimum rules for European Union (EU) countries’ (EU, 2010), thus providing a further, and more explicit, interpreting framework.
Article 8 advocates the right to private and family life and this has been invoked by a number of speakers of both indigenous and immigrant minority languages. Numerous cases have involved the refusal by some states to accept use of surnames and forenames by members of national minorities in non-state languages – for example, on birth certificates and other documentation (CoE, 2011a: 13). Further investigation, however, indicates that cultural claims like these have been a ‘weak link’ in protections provided by the ECHR. Most cases of such a nature have, by and large, not been upheld in the ECtHR; the CoE itself has admitted that ‘the Court has had a rather restrictive approach in this field, granting a wide margin of appreciation to the Contracting States in view of the existence of a multitude of factors of an historical, linguistic, religious and cultural nature in each country’ (CoE, 2011a: 13). Therefore, while the ECHR prohibits states from using overt forms of linguistic discrimination, it has been fundamentally weak in dealing with positive language rights relating to identity and culture. Indeed, Dunbar notes that the ECHR’s measures can be viewed as ‘encompassing a regime of linguistic tolerance’ (2001: 91) which focuses on civic, rather than cultural, rights. For instance, practices like criminal justice interpreting are viewed as upholding impartiality in the civic space by protecting speakers of ‘minority languages from discrimination and procedural unfairness, among other things’ (2001: 91). Nonetheless, the ECHR’s biggest flaw is that it takes the majority culture, including the linguistic culture, of each signatory state as a given ‘norm’ and fails to engage adequately with the role that cultural and linguistic exclusion can have on an individual’s ability to contribute to wider civil and political life. If individuals, such as migrants or national minorities, are denied representation in the public space for their group’s culture, then their equal participation as an individual in the society in question is also compromised.
Thus, the ECHR ignores the role that a collective majority culture has in contributing to the marginalisation of citizens who are members of a minority. These inadequacies, however, did not go unnoticed in the changing political environments of the 1980s and 1990s. The growth of regionalist politics (Nic Craith, 2006: 75) and insecurities caused by the end of the Cold War (Pentassuglia, 2002: 27) were factors which drove a reassessment of human rights in Europe to include more explicit engagement with issues affecting national minorities. In this regard, drafting the ECRML in 1992 was one such response by the CoE.
European charter for regional and minority languages
The ECRML deals specifically with the protection of linguistic heritage. Drafted in 1992, the Charter aims to ‘protect and promote regional and minority languages as a threatened aspect of Europe’s cultural heritage’, namely ‘regional and minority languages, non-territorial languages and less widely used official languages’ (CoE, 1992a: 3). The Charter aims to ensure the survival of regional languages by fostering proactive provision and policy at state level (Gilbert, 2005: 163; Wise, 2007: 176). In this respect the document falls into what Dunbar (2001: 94) calls the ‘ecological’ approach to minority rights which is justified on the basis that ‘linguistic diversity, like bio-diversity, is valued in and of itself’ (2001: 94). Despite these claims, the ECRML advocates state support in areas like education, the media, cultural life and state administration which means that it is undeniable that the Charter’s beneficiaries are minority language communities collectively, as well as individual speakers themselves.
When a state signs the ECRML, this is a guarantee of adherence to eight general statements contained in part II of the document which recognise regional or minority languages as an important ‘expression of cultural wealth’ in the national territory (CoE, 1992a: 4). Further commitments are not expected unless ratification occurs, which is a public declaration by a government to actively endorse, through financial and other means, regional and minority languages in areas like media, education and the justice system. 13 The languages chosen for such recognition and the level of support attributable to each are declared when a state ratifies the Charter. This means that different minority languages in a state can be offered contrasting levels of commitment which, Grin (2003:11) notes, raises ‘problems of choice’ for signatory states. The UK’s ratification, for instance, provides higher levels of support for Welsh than to other minority languages such as Scottish Gaelic or Irish (Muller, 2010: 81). Such decisions are undeniably driven by factors like numbers of native speakers as well as the nature of political and community mobilisation. Nonetheless, this system has been criticised by some for its a-la-carte approach where signatories have a wide margin in deciding the level and nature of recognition provided to different language groups, thus creating a ‘pecking order’ of minority languages within states (Nic Craith, 2003).
The ECRML explicitly advocates indigeneity as a criterion for recognition stating that it ‘does not include… the languages of migrants’ (CoE, 1992a: 2). As Nic Craith notes, it, therefore, ‘ignores the real extent of linguistic and cultural diversity’ in Europe (Nic Craith, 2003: 59). The official rationale for excluding immigrant languages is that the Charter has been designed to protect regional minority languages which are under real threat from extinction against the encroachment of majority languages. Moreover, immigration in the 1990s was already a divisive political issue in Europe and the inclusion of support for immigrant languages may have deterred states from engaging with the Charter at all. Nonetheless, the preamble to the document declares that the languages of migrants deserve ‘to be addressed separately, if appropriate in a specific legal instrument’ (CoE, 1992b: 3). However, in the intervening years, despite such commentary, there have been no overt additions to the European human rights mechanisms to deal with the linguistic rights of immigrants more fully. Therefore, the problem perhaps is that the ECRML’s existence in the continued absence of more formal discussions on immigrant languages serves as a symbol of a largely exclusivist understanding which privileges languages that are historically aligned to a particular territory.
It would be erroneous, however, not to consider the changes facilitated by the ECRML. A Committee of Experts (COMEX) 14 acts as a monitoring body and publishes regular reports on the Charter’s application in ratifying states. Despite its exclusion of immigrants, the ECRML is indicative of the potential effectiveness of international legal frameworks in driving incremental change at national level (Dunbar, 2001: 98). Monitoring reports have the potential to act as a catalyst for policy development, or at the very least, to embarrass governments in a global forum. One such example was a 2011 report on Sweden that was critical of poor provision for the teaching of Samí (CoE, 2011b). By 2013 the Swedish Government, in response, established ‘special funds to build up and develop subject teacher training in Sami’ (CoE, 2013a: 41). Similarly, reports on the UK have been scathing of progress made on lesser-used languages in post-conflict Northern Ireland (CoE, 2013b: 5). Even in such cases where positive policy change has not occurred, continual pressure is maintained on ratifying countries to ensure that debates on minority languages continue and that such questions are not airbrushed entirely. 15
Although the ECRML excluded immigrant languages from its terms of reference, it has instigated widespread debate on linguistic rights and can be credited as the first document to raise language as a separate issue within a wider human rights framework. The Charter has also provided indigenous linguistic minorities in Europe with a platform beyond the state by which to lobby for an improvement in their status. This process, as noted above, has had a positive impact for speakers of those languages that have been supported by ratifying states. Explicit exclusion of immigrant minorities from such a framework does, though, raise the question of where exactly more formal discussions on immigrant communities fit. While the ECRML provides an example of how international law can influence policy change at state level, it further illustrates the difficulties in striking a balance between rights for autochthonous and allochthonous languages. The next section, however, focuses on the FCPNM which offers much more opportunity for the language rights of immigrants to be addressed within the European legal framework.
The FCPNM, language rights and immigrants: tentative support for linguistic diversity?
Another legislative mechanism relevant to the concerns of linguistic minorities is CoE’s FCPNM. Drafted in 1995, the Convention was designed to promote the rights of national minorities and act as a critical voice against discriminatory practices. A total of 39 member states have both signed and ratified the document which means that these countries commit to the values of the Convention and respond to criticisms made of them. In recognition of the differences in minority issues from country to country, the articles in the FCPNM are intended to guide policy-making at state level. Articles focus on issues such as the right of minorities to exist (Article 1), the right of members of national minorities to self-identify as such (Article 3), and the right of minorities to maintain and develop their culture (Article 5). Signatories also commit to introduce ‘adequate measures in order to promote, in all areas of economic, social, political and cultural life, full and effective equality between persons belonging to a national minority and those belonging to the majority’ (CoE, 1995: 3).
Language rights are dealt with specifically in Articles 9–14 and assert the right to use one’s mother-tongue in private and public (Article 10), to promote that language in the media (Article 9) and to use one’s own first name and surname publicly (Article 11). A number of other articles recommend that governments take action in language policy and legislation to further the Convention’s overall aims. For example, Article 14 on education states that ‘Parties shall endeavour to ensure, as far as possible and within the framework of their education systems, that persons belonging to those minorities have adequate opportunities for being taught the minority language or for receiving instruction in this language’ (CoE, 1995: 3). Article 5 states that parties ‘undertake to promote the conditions necessary for persons belonging to national minorities to maintain and develop their culture, and to preserve the essential elements of their identity, namely their religion, language, traditions and cultural heritage’ (CoE, 1995: 3). Consequently, the FCPNM goes beyond merely outlawing discriminatory practices and encourages governments to introduce promotion-oriented measures that assist the use of minority languages in the public arena 16 .
The FCPNM’s monitoring procedure involves periodic reports from each ratifying government that detail recent legislative and other developments that support national minorities. 17 An 18-member expert Advisory Committee then responds to the content of these submissions and on the progress made by the state in question. 18 Monitoring and reporting are designed to instigate gradual, yet sustained, change in the position of national minorities. Some commentators view such multilateral and global processes as of major significance ‘in the development of legally binding rules for the protection of minorities’ (Spiliopoulou Åkermark, 1997: 233). Unfavourable reports can often lead to international criticism of a government and in many cases this has resulted in policy and legislative transformation at national level – something which will be discussed in more depth later. Although the monitoring procedure is perhaps its strongest aspect, the FCPNM suffers from extensive ‘qualifying phrases’ or ‘claw-back clauses’ (Skutnabb-Kangas, 2000: 538; Weller, 2005: 610). For instance, Article 10 advocates the rights of national minorities to use their language in correspondence with administrative authorities but only where there is a ‘real need’, while Article 12, which promotes the fostering of education and research on minority cultures and languages, notes that this should be provided ‘where appropriate’. While the use of such expressions are viewed by some as undermining the overall effectiveness of the document, the ambiguous terminology perhaps ‘gives States Parties the flexibility to translate the Convention’s objectives into national laws and policies that are most appropriate’ for their own circumstances (OHCHR, 2014: 2).
Another concern is the absence of a definition of ‘national minority’ that has led to confusion as to who the FCPNM is designed to protect. Article 10 alludes to the fact that minorities who are either ‘substantial’ in numbers, or who are ‘traditionally’ settled may be supported (CoE, 1995: 12). Such imprecision, however, unlike the ECRML, does not openly exclude immigrants. For instance, the sizeable Lithuanian population in Ireland which has grown in the past decade could feasibly build a case for recognition due to its sheer size. In contrast, a small but historically settled immigrant population like the Polish community in Austria, which has maintained a distinct identity in the region for over 100 years, could also call for acknowledgement under the FCPNM (CoE, 2011c: 10). 19 The CoE has often asserted that the absence of a definition for ‘national minority’ allows a state to apply the Convention on the basis of its own demographics and is a method of enticing ‘general support of all Council of Europe Member States’ (CoE, 1995). The fact that immigrant minorities have not been openly excluded from its terms mean that the FCPNM could be significant for future discussions on the position of immigrants within European human rights law. As Kymlicka notes, even though migrant issues could perhaps be better addressed in a charter dealing specifically with their own range of issues, the FCPNM can perhaps be viewed as a means of incorporating migrant issues into the current European rights mechanisms via the ‘back door’ (2007: 225).
Nonetheless, a number of states, when ratifying the document, identified specific national minorities living in their jurisdiction to whom they would apply the Convention. For instance, Sweden specifically named long-established populations, and primarily European indigenous groups, such as the Sámi, Finnish speakers and Roma as its national minorities. 20 Germany interprets the term ‘national minority’ as only applying to those members of minority groups who are also German citizens. This, undeniably, is an attempt to ensure that residents of Germany who hold citizenship of another state are unable to benefit from the FCPNM. 21 Such declarations are, however, not conclusive and the Advisory Committee has already shown that it holds the authority to comment on minority groups beyond an individual state’s definition of the term. As Ringelheim argues, ‘the Advisory Committee has taken the view that, notwithstanding the absence of a definition in the FCNM, the assessment of what constitutes a minority under this instrument cannot be left entirely to the discretion of states parties’ (2010: 113). For example, reports on Sweden, despite the assertions listed above, have made some, albeit limited, commentary on immigrant minorities, especially in the advocacy of widening ‘the scope of legislative guarantees against discrimination on ethnic and other pertinent grounds’ (CoE, 2012a: 9).
The FCPNM is perhaps the piece of legislation with most flexibility in advocating the rights of immigrants and, consequently, could play a stronger role in better informing language policy for such communities at state level. This was openly advocated in the FCPNM’s 2012 ‘Commentary on Language Rights’ which stated that ‘[l]anguage policies should ensure that all [emphasis added] languages that exist in society are audibly and visibly present in the public domain so that every person is aware of the multilingual character of society’ (CoE, 2012b: 11). Furthermore, it was also noted that ‘in line with Article 6 of the Framework Convention, inclusive language policies should cater for the needs of everybody, including persons belonging to national minorities living outside their traditional areas of settlement, immigrants and non-citizens’ (CoE, 2012b: 11). Moreover, the CoE has noted that the concept of language itself under the Charter can be defined as the ‘communicative repertoire, which may encompass a range of linguistic resources (standard and non-standard forms of languages, dialects, etc.)’ which often develop ‘throughout life as a result of interaction and mobility’ (CoE, 2012d: 4). These examples perhaps suggest that the FCPNM’s seemingly flexible approach is more appropriate for the complex circumstances of superdiverse societies (see Vertovec, 2007) and are more compatible in recognising the multiple identities/affiliations, and indeed non-affiliations, held by groups like migrants, in comparison with more exclusionary approaches.
This is evidence that the FCPNM is, in theory, not as exclusionary in its operation as other conventions and there is potential for immigrant communities’ rights to be explored within its scope. At present, though, the monitoring procedure which has been undertaken by the Advisory Committee has not been effective in endorsing such wider interpretations and there continues to be reluctance by the Committee to comment explicitly on the status of allochthonous languages in signatory states within the monitoring reports.
However, it is important to acknowledge the FCPNM’s achievements. Some scholars note that the Convention, along with other frameworks such as the ECRML, has provided a pathway for the gradual recognition of migrant languages in Europe. Burch Elias (2010), for instance, argues that language rights during the twentieth century had traditionally been driven either by a need to preserve a language vulnerable to extinction (280), or to recognise language rights for minority groups resident in a particular territory for a long historical period. She challenges, however, the argument that this approach has remained stagnant noting that there has been an emphasis in recent documents such as the FCPNM and the ECRML on minority languages that are spoken across national frontiers. 22 Also, ‘nomadic’ or ‘non-territorially-aligned’ languages like Yiddish and Romani are included in the terms of reference of both documents. These moves are viewed by Burch Elias as significant as they have started to break down, albeit slightly, the rigid association between a language and a national territory in policy and law. This disentangling of the language–territory connection in the legal instruments illustrates that minority rights legislation can be malleable rather than stagnant (311), and, therefore, a wider recognition of immigrant languages is feasible in human rights law. 23
Indeed, in recent years, the FCPNM’s Advisory Committee has indirectly instigated debates that are of relevance to the status of immigrant languages in ratifying states. For example, numerous reports have emphasised the importance of government data collection on all languages spoken in a number of countries. Commentary on Austria, for instance, advocated that future censuses allow individuals ‘to indicate multiple languages and identities’ (CoE, 2011c: 12). In another report, Portugal’s failure to gather data on language use beyond Portuguese was heavily criticised and the Advisory Committee stated that it ‘deplores the persisting lack of reliable data on the situation of persons belonging to minorities’ (CoE, 2009: 11). The Committee strongly encouraged that data be collected on all languages spoken in the national territory. 24 Ireland was praised for its introduction of data gathering on cultural background, language, and religion of ethnic minorities in its national census (CoE, 2012c: 6). However, it was noted that the mandatory and limited options on the return form contravened the individual right to non-affiliation with an ethnic group (CoE, 2012c: 6).
Data on the linguistic demography of any state’s population are a key factor in driving change in language policy for both indigenous and non-indigenous groups. When such statistics are available, it is difficult for governments to ignore sizeable linguistic communities in policy decisions. Moreover, the availability of data allows states to identify and plan for the needs of particular language communities. Such pragmatic advice by the Committee, therefore, has the potential to improve visibility of both autochthonous and allochthonous languages. Moreover, the wider availability of data might assist future Advisory Committees in making more specific assessments suitable for a particular country’s circumstances. For example, where a significant minority, either indigenous or immigrant, is concentrated in a specific area of a given state it may be appropriate to provide language services to that group, but only in that geographical area. In other cases, minorities may be dispersed throughout a territory, yet rights to these groups might be applied nationally on the basis that they are, overall, a significant group in numbers – identified by Patten as the personality principle (2014). Patten argues, however, that the search for a more ‘hybrid’ approach to language planning means that neither approach should be rejected in favour of the other and instead, given the complex circumstances, ‘empirical conditions’ (2014: 231) should be considered when deciding on appropriate policy action. Of course, the empirical context can only be fully determined with the availability of accurate census data, something which the Advisory Committee has actively championed.
In some examples of the FCPNM’s reporting, there has been even more explicit commentary on immigrant languages. This has been especially true with regard to the UK which follows a more flexible understanding than most ratifying states. Britain’s interpretation of ‘national minority’ centres on the definition of racial groups as contained in its national Race Relations Act. A national minority is, therefore, ‘a group of persons defined by colour, race, nationality (including citizenship) or ethnic or national origins’ (CoE, 1999: 4). The result is that, in the UK, the FCPNM’s terms, as accepted by the government, are not necessarily restricted to historically settled peoples. In 2001, for instance, as part of its analysis of Britain’s progress the Advisory Committee visited Northern Ireland. 25 Discussion between the Committee, local actors and NGOs led to particular criticism of public interpreting in the region where it was acknowledged that children of immigrants were often used as interpreters for their parents in health and other social care settings (CoE, 2001: 16). This criticism resulted in more robust practice, policy and public funding for health interpreting which was introduced in 2005 (McDermott, 2011; McMonagle and McDermott, 2014: 257). The issue of improving interpreting for immigrant communities has not been isolated to the UK. It was also raised in a report on Norway which was complimented for having made efforts ‘(by training interpreters, for instance) to adapt public services to the growing diversity of Norwegian society and make them better equipped to respond appropriately to this diversity’ (CoE, 2006a: 16–17). While these provide only two examples, they do illustrate that the FCPNM can potentially impact positively on the language rights of immigrant populations by altering poor practice as well as actively underscoring good existing practice.
Later monitoring reports on the UK also detailed issues relating to immigrants. In 2007, concerns were raised about the lack of state support to help migrant communities promote and maintain aspects of their culture, including language (CoE, 2007: 5). Wider language barriers faced by speakers of ethnic minority languages were noted with concern, as was the failure of authorities to disseminate information on public interpreting to ethnic minorities (CoE, 2007: 18). Recent observation on Britain has continued to pursue and identify such issues in the face of economic pressures caused by the global recession. A 2011 report, for instance, stated that ethnic minority projects, including those supporting language maintenance, had been adversely affected by austerity measures implemented across public sectors (CoE, 2011d: 16). Such reporting has been an important and welcome step in incorporating discussion on immigrant language rights within the wider European legal framework. However, by and large, there has been limited dialogue on allochthonous languages in most states party to the FCPNM and the UK reports provide the most overt example of where the trend has been broken. Despite the claims that there has been a growing propensity of de-territorialisation in language rights (Burch Elias, 2010), closer observation of reports on other signatory states indicate only a ‘tentative’ move in recognising immigrant languages.
Committee reports on Germany have been characterised by very general statements relating to immigrant issues, such as that published in 2006 (CoE, 2006b: 15). 26 Similarly, a 2010 report mentioned the German state’s need ‘to pursue programmes and policies to encourage integration as well as the promotion of diversity and tolerance’ (CoE, 2010a: 22). However, the report did not make much commentary beyond this. Nevertheless, it is important to note that such narrow reference to immigrants appeared despite Germany having identified only Danish speakers, Sorbs, Frisians, Sinti and Roma as its national minorities when it ratified the FCPNM (CoE, 2000). Therefore, the Advisory Committee here deviated, albeit slightly, from Germany’s restrictive interpretation of national minority. Reports on numerous countries have followed this pattern and included generalised commentary on the eradication of racism, the need to improve race relations and the encouragement of tolerance towards immigrant minorities. For example, the Advisory Committee praised Denmark’s proactive approach in trying to ‘integrate immigrants and promote diversity and intercultural dialogue’ (CoE, 2011e: 1). Austria was encouraged in 2011 to ‘take resolute measures to further promote equal opportunities for immigrants’ (CoE, 2011c: 6), while comparable issues on integration have also been raised in reports on the Netherlands (CoE, 2013c: 14), Sweden (CoE, 2012a: 9), and Finland (CoE, 2010b 18). There is, however, little direct reference to language issues affecting immigrants.
As with the German case the later examples, regardless of general ambiguity, have come even though some of these states had also, on ratification of the FCPNM, identified only indigenous communities as their national minorities. This further indicates the potential of Advisory Committee reports to diverge from a signatory’s own definition of national minority. However, the Committee has, by and large, remained imprecise in its coverage of the linguistic rights of immigrant communities, whereas ‘indigenous’ minority languages have been dealt with more robustly. This stagnant outlook goes against CoE’s formal position which is more accommodative to immigrant languages, as identified in its 2012 ‘Thematic Commentary on Language Rights’. Indeed, the commentary noted that the FCPNM ‘should be understood as a living document’ (CoE, 2012b: 5) that will develop and change as the monitoring process itself evolves. To date, however, such an evolution of the monitoring process has not occurred and reporting has continued to largely endorse principles of territoriality with very limited observation and detail on immigrant languages.
Of course, the super diverse nature of contemporary European societies means that it would be an impossibility for the Committee to report on all immigrant groups within a country. However, I would state that FCPNM’s ‘substantial in numbers’ principle has been an underutilised vehicle. Specific discussion within the reports on larger and/or well-established migrant groups like the Turkish in Germany, Polish in Ireland or Indians in the UK could be a means by which to balance the coverage of language rights. Of course this, returning to an earlier point, would require acute use of national census data by committee members in preparation of their reports. While some would criticise such an approach as being too selective towards only some immigrant groups, it would merely be following the pattern utilised for indigenous languages. After all, not all regional and minority languages are protected by the ECRML, and even those that are have been dealt with in differentiated ways. As May notes, ‘greater ethnolinguistic democracy is not necessarily the same as ethnolinguistic equality’ (2014b: 388). In this case, the same principle applies.
Future Advisory Committee reports, therefore, are a key determinant as to whether or not a change occurs. If the FCPNM is to be viewed as truly fluid, malleable and inclusive, which it claims to be, then the Committee should, at the very least, incrementally introduce, via the ‘substantial in numbers’ principle, more unequivocal commentary on language rights for immigrants. However, it is also critical for various stakeholders to take a proactive stance in these debates. For instance, collaboration between academics in this field and organisations working with immigrant groups is an important means of ensuring knowledge dissemination on this topic. Reports on a state’s performance are often based on knowledge acquired during periodical visits by the Advisory Committee to each ratifying state and through information provided by NGOs. However, the engagement between NGOs working specifically with immigrant groups and the Advisory Committee must be explored more fully. Partnerships between academic researchers in the arena of language policy and NGOs working with immigrants could be furthered in the form of seminars, civic conversations and advice sessions in order to highlight the ‘gaps’ in current provision at European level. The aim of such engagements could be to initiate correspondences between such NGOs and the Committee itself, thus feeding directly into the monitoring process. Indeed, this is in keeping with views expressed by Skutnabb-Kangas who, while critical of the FCPNM’s ambiguity, acknowledges the importance of the grass roots organisations in advocating change for linguistic minorities in the wider arena of public legislation and international organisations (2000: 666).
Conclusions
This article has outlined CoE’s approach to language rights through analysis of the ECHR, the ECRML and the FCPNM. Within the three documents, elements of promotion-oriented rights and tolerance-oriented rights are evident. Promotion-oriented approaches have mainly functioned to protect the ‘indigenous’ European languages and promote their use in the public space. By contrast the languages of immigrant communities have often been relegated to coverage through principles of non-discrimination which merely ‘allow minority language speakers to continue speaking a language in the private domain’ with only a partial focus placed on active support in public policy or legislation (May, 2014b: 387). This dichotomy in international law is inherently simplistic and there is a need to strike a balance between tolerance-oriented and promotion-oriented language rights in a manner which is more reflective of Europe’s linguistic demography. However, the actual approach of CoE has largely cemented the compartmentalisation of rights for language minorities meaning that cross-over debate between the two arenas has continued to be incomplete.
Perhaps it is the FCPNM, with its less restrictive terminology and scope, which could allow for more inclusive discussion on immigrant linguistic minorities to emerge in international law. Advisory Committee reports have, as yet, only touched on the position of immigrant languages in a general, rather than a focused, way. Given that an international mechanism like the FCPNM is supposedly evolutionary and, therefore, reflective of societal change, it is an appropriate forum by which to further these considerations. In the 20 years since the FCPNM’s inception, however, this has not been the case and there is still an apparent reluctance to engage more closely with issues relating to immigration – including the language rights of immigrants. If the FCPNM’s Advisory Committee, as a first approach, were to incorporate more reference to immigrants in its reports on the basis of the ‘where numbers warrant’ principle then this could be an important step in facilitating a wider discussion on the status, nature and applicability of rights for allochthonous languages more generally. Moreover, state policy-makers, representatives of organisations, like CoE, and academics from a variety of disciplines require interrelated and collaborative debate on the feasibility of implementing a more accommodating coverage for the millions of speakers of immigrant languages in Europe. It is only then that the current hierarchical system might be effectively challenged to present a more inclusive interpretation of human rights that better reflects Europe’s contemporary demography.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
