Power and Ideology in South African Translation: A Social Systems Perspective 3030610624, 9783030610623

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TRANSLATION HISTORY

Power and Ideology in South African Translation A Social Systems Perspective m a r ic e l bo t h a

Translation History

Series Editors Andrea Rizzi School of Languages and Linguistics University of Melbourne Parkville, VIC, Australia Anthony Pym School of Languages and Linguistics University of Melbourne Parkville, VIC, Australia Birgit Lang School of Languages and Linguistics University of Melbourne Parkville, VIC, Australia Belén Bistué CONICET - Universidad Nacional de Cuyo Mendoza, Argentina Esmaeil Haddadian Moghaddam Translation Studies Research Unit University of Leuven Leuven, Belgium Kayoko Takeda College of Intercultural Communication Rikkyo University Tokyo, Japan

Palgrave Macmillan is very excited to announce a new series: Translation History. This new series is the first to take a global and interdisciplinary view of translation and translators across time, place, and cultures. It also offers an untapped opportunity for interactions between translation and interpreting studies, comparative literature, art history, and print and book history. Translation History aims to become an essential forum for scholars, graduate students, and general readers who are interested in or work on the history and practice of translation and its cultural agents (translators, interpreters, publishers, editors, artists, cultural institutions, governments). Thus, the editors welcome proposals which address new approaches to the subject area in the following ways: • Work which historicise translation in all its forms and expressions: orality, textuality, ideology, language, sociology, and culture • Work offering conceptual frameworks to scholars working on communication and mediation in the history of religion, political theory, print, science, and culture. All proposals and final manuscripts are peer-reviewed by experts in the field, either on the editorial board or beyond. The series publishes book-length studies (80,000 words), as well as shorter publications (25,000 to 50,000 words) which will appear as Palgrave Pivot publications.

More information about this series at http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/15957

Maricel Botha

Power and Ideology in South African Translation A Social Systems Perspective

Maricel Botha Centre for Academic and Professional Language Practice North-West University Potchefstroom, South Africa

ISSN 2523-8701 ISSN 2523-871X (electronic) Translation History ISBN 978-3-030-61062-3 ISBN 978-3-030-61063-0 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2020 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Contents

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Introduction 1.1 Translation Sociology 1.2 Power and Ideology 1.3 Translation History 1.4 Social Systems Theory References

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Social Systems Theory—Fundamentals and Application 2.1 Why Social Systems Theory? 2.2 Social Systems Theory According to Luhmann 2.3 Translation as a Social System 2.4 Translation as a Sub-System and Boundary Phenomenon 2.5 Current Application of SST References

1 4 6 8 10 13 15 16 18 31 35 38 41

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Contents

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Commencement—Knowledge Exportation 3.1 Historical Background and Societal Character 3.2 Resistance to Written Translation 3.3 Naturalist Translation 3.4 Conclusion References

43 46 51 52 64 65

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Advent—Complex Conversion 4.1 Historical Background and Societal Character 4.2 Missionary Translation 4.3 Philological Translation 4.4 Islamic Translation 4.5 Conclusion References

69 71 75 93 96 101 103

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Establishment—Nationalist Incentive 5.1 Historical Background and Societal Character 5.2 Translation and Afrikaner Nationalism 5.3 Translation and Indian Nationalism 5.4 Translation and African Nationalism 5.5 Conclusion References

107 109 114 122 127 136 138

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Peak—Oppression and Resistance 6.1 Historical Background and Societal Character 6.2 Translation as a Function System 6.3 Oppressive Translation 6.4 Resistant Translation 6.5 Conclusion References

141 142 145 153 160 175 176

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Recession—Transformation? 7.1 Historical Background and Societal Character 7.2 Translation and the Political System 7.3 Translation and the Literary System 7.4 Translation in the Educational System

179 181 186 191 204

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7.5 Conclusion References

210 211

Conclusion 8.1 Trends 8.2 An Evaluation of Social Systems Theory

215 215 229

Index

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1 Introduction

Of all the types of communication that constantly frame and re-frame conceptions of the world and shape or reflect societal power dynamics, interlingual translation is one whose contribution seems comparatively insignificant. Political discourse, mass media and literature, for example, though subject to certain constraints, appear to possess a rather vociferous potential for communicative assertion and leave obvious opportunities for the construction and propagation of world views and the reflection of various ideologies. By contrast, the unassuming act of translation, shrouded in a guise of functionalism and constrained by a comparatively stringent requirement to conform, seems to allow little room for a socially reflective or socially influential function. Yet this assumption is far from accurate and social analyses of translation have uncovered very direct and influential relations between translation and matters such as power and ideology. Maria Tymoczko (2010: 1–2) explains translation’s socially reflective potential as follows:

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_1

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The translation record between languages and cultures is a particularly rich source of information about cultural transfer both synchronically and diachronically, illuminating, for example, the shape of the literary systems involved, reception conditions, patronage effects, power relations between cultures, and so forth. Moreover, when translation occurs within a complex, multilingual cultural system […] translations reveal much of interest about cultural stratification, competing values within a culture, literary prestige, and the like.

This explanation ties in closely with the following much earlier remarks by Román Álvarez and Maria Carmen África Vidal (1996: 3): As it is approached today, translation tackles some of the most important cultural problems: the death of what Lyotard has called the “Grand Récits”; the consequences of colonisation in the interpretation of other cultures; the problems springing from the rebirth of xenophobia and racism; the understanding of the exotic […]. [Translation] can also become a form of control […].

South African society can certainly be considered a complex, multilingual cultural system and the phenomena mentioned by Tymoczko in this regard not only apply to, but are highly relevant to the South African context. South Africa has a notorious association with complex racial and cultural dynamics and oppression on these grounds, which, though by no means uncommon in world history, are particularly marked in this case due to their severity and recentness. In this context, language has played an important role in establishing cultural dominance, exercising control and even resisting cultural oppression in ways that have not been fully appreciated. This is even truer of the specific role of translation. In response to this lack, this book seeks to uncover the covert role of written translation practices in social power dynamics throughout South African history. Although the scope is limited to the country currently known as the Republic of South Africa, the investigation is broad both in time and cultural range in an attempt to provide a history of written translation for as long as a written tradition has existed in South Africa and covering as many languages and cultures as have contributed to this

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history. The limitation of the scope to written translation was a practical choice. Desiring to account for translation occurring over a long stretch of time and involving many languages made the feasibility of adequately investigating both written translation practices and interpreting practices questionable within the constraints of the research project from which this publication originates. The choice for written translation stemmed quite simply from the greater availability of data on these practices, making it the natural place to initiate what can be considered the most encompassing account of South African translation history as yet. This does not imply that interpreting practices are less important and historical investigation of these would be very valuable, especially given the tradition of orality which characterises African cultures. In order to uncover translation’s social role, sociological and historical perspectives are combined in this book. A fecund relationship results from this combination, since history and sociology both serve to contextualise translation in complementary ways. Translation sociology and a stronger interest in translation history in fact share a common genesis, having developed simultaneously as a result of the Polysystem Theory and Descriptive Translation Studies (see Gürça˘glar 2013: 136; Wolf 2007: 6). In a chapter called “Between Sociology and History: Method in Context and in Practice” (2007), Daniel Simeoni explains that both sociology and history have more recently undergone methodological changes and traditional oppositions are no longer as apparent, paving the way to a less divergent (and in fact a productive and harmonious) relationship. Simeoni (2007: 193) states that “with so many disciplinary initiatives overlapping, there is a sense that we may soon be heading towards a new global historical social science, where the more sociologically-oriented translation studies may want to find its place”. Translation sociology is able to complement translation history by providing interpretive mechanisms, aligning historical research with the theoretical and practical motivations of translation studies or other disciplines. Due to its interpretive worth, it is not surprising that the editors of this Translation History series made specific mention of sociological approaches in their call for contributions. Translation history, on the other hand, obviously complements translation sociology by broadening its temporal scope in the interest of comparison and the tracing

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of social development and change. Historical investigations contribute viewpoints from contexts which may differ significantly enough from the present day to broaden our understanding of social phenomena by pointing out trends and behaviours which would not have been conceived or realised within the present environment. Or they point to phenomena which are similar enough to the present to be practically and theoretically educative. Moreover, both fields are able to contribute conceptually and methodologically to the understanding of translation. In this book, this is truer of sociology than of history, since the purpose of the research is social interpretation rather than historiography and the sociological framework employed therefore assumes a strong directive function. This is not to say that history cannot contribute conceptually and methodologically in more analytical or interpretive research, but the contribution of sociology is stronger in this regard. This research can therefore be considered diachronically sociological rather than historiographical, but it is historical nonetheless and certainly ties in with the purpose of this series to provide a global and interdisciplinary view of translation and translators across time, place and cultures. In the remainder of this introduction, translation sociology, power and ideology, translation history and Niklas Luhmann’s social systems theory, all of which direct the findings in this book and serve to situate the research theoretically, are introduced.

1.1

Translation Sociology

A greater emphasis on translation’s location between cultures and societies and its operation amid complex social and political relations was one of the results of the cultural turn in translation studies. This led to the development around the beginning of the twentieth century of a branch of translation studies called translation sociology, whose introduction has also been viewed as a “turn”: the social or sociological turn (Rizzi et al. 2019: 3). Translation sociology views translation activities within social contexts ranging from comparatively small entities such as organisations and communities to larger constructs, including entire cultures,

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literary systems and societies. Thus, it allows not only social contextualisation, but also macrocontextualisation of translation. The assumption of an elevated vantage point is able to reveal unequal power dynamics and various types of social conditioning which are sometimes hidden when translated texts are viewed in closer proximity. In this regard, macrocontextualisation, the perspective promoted by Sergey Tyulenev (2014), is particularly significant as it may unveil more far-reaching and often more consequential power constellations. Although sociological research in translation may assume different degrees of proximity to translational subjects (products, processes, agents, etc.), it necessitates a relational view which recognises a degree of social interconnection regardless of its scale in order to be truly sociological. In the article “Translation as a social fact” (2014), Sergey Tyulenev proposes Durkheim’s concept of social fact as a guideline for delimiting the ambit of translation sociology. In attempting to determine what it is that makes the social social, Tyulenev explains, Durkheim concluded that while individuals do influence social constraints, it takes more than one individual to do so, elevating that action beyond the individual plane to the social plane. Collectiveness thus underlies sociality. Furthermore, this collectiveness is something quite different from a conglomerate psychology. Durkheim explains social facts as “ways of acting or thinking, recognisable by the distinguishing characteristic that they are capable of exercising a coercive influence over individual consciousness” (quoted in Tyulenev 2014: 189). Tyulenev (2014: 181) explains that social facts are thus external to individuals and that “entrenched, collective action and thought constrain the individual, who can do little to eliminate or change these established conventions”. Established conventions can, however, be changed by a collective effort, but the resulting “synthesis of wills”, is once again something that exists beyond and separately from individual psychology (ibid.). This observation has the methodological implication that sociology should study trends (typicality versus a-typicality), generalisations and common social patterns (Tyulenev 2014: 186–187). Tyulenev (2014: 183) admits that translation as a social activity cannot exist apart from individual translation acts, but maintains that sociological translation should be studied not in relation to a sum of individuals, but

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as a system formed by the interaction of individuals, displaying its own features. Therefore, when individual translators or translations are studied in sociological research, individual reasons for translations should not be studied, but rather the larger context and general conditions that determine translational actions. Tying in with this description of sociology, Niklas Luhmann’s social systems theory (henceforth SST), which provides the theoretical structure in the current investigation, provides an elaborate description of the systems according to which these constraining factors may be conceptualised. Luhmann shares Durkheim’s acknowledgement of the disempowerment of the individual in the description of the social and takes a distinctly non-humanistic approach in which humans are removed from the description of society altogether and are placed within the social environment. In his approach, social phenomena are “animated” or described as possessing a “life” of their own through their partly biologically inspired description as self-recreating systems. This is simply mentioned to indicate the correspondence between this particular theory and the description of sociology just provided and more concerning SST follows shortly.

1.2

Power and Ideology

Power and ideology are two concepts that have been foregrounded within the sociological turn (Wolf 2007: 12), and they govern and direct the analyses in this book due to their useful distillation of the social relevance of translation. In other words, if we consider why, how and with what effect translation operates within society, it very often boils down to questions of power and ideology. In Translation and Power Play, one of the first publications to systematically investigate power in relation to translation, Peter Fawcett (1995: 117) summarises the importance of power in translation by stating that it is easy for translation to “masquerade as an ‘innocent’ activity”, whereas, in reality, its activities often include distortion and manipulation—to which one may add any number of other manifestations of power. Researching translation in relation to power thus involves uncovering its expression of an array of possible power

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dynamics, which can be done by analysing translation at various levels or from various angles. In a very broad sociological setting, as in the current volume, this may involve studying whether translation occurs or not and the languages into and from which it occurs. Translation’s occurrence between certain languages can be studied in relation to its establishment of communicative relations and cultural or political alliances, for example. Its non-occurrence between certain languages can be equally meaningful, potentially indicating trends of cultural and linguistic neglect or negation, or cultural dominance or prestige. Furthermore, general motivations for translation may be related to power. Translation may be done to elevate the status of a particular cultural group or to control or manipulate the recipients of translations. In relation to motive, translators and commissioning bodies may be studied and manifestations of motives may be identified in translation methods or the selection of specific texts or text types for translation. In addition, responses to translation may be tied to power relations. The popularity or rejection of translations may be revealing in this regard, as may the interpretation of translations. These are simply some examples which show that translation practices can be related to power in several ways which do not necessarily involve in-depth textual analysis, yet yield meaningful insights into translation’s social operation. The intention of translation sociological research involving power should therefore be to uncover and expose power dynamics, interests and agendas which only really become visible within a broader social contextualisation involving the identification of translation trends at various levels. The link between translation and ideology should be easily deducible in the light of the above-mentioned. Translations are never commissioned, produced or received in an environment of neutrality and an unmasking of translation, to continue Fawcett’s metaphor, often reveals important ideological influences on translation. This does not imply that all translation is done with ulterior motives or malignant intentions— its intentions may indeed be very positive—but it forces reconsideration of what has traditionally been esteemed a neutral, functional activity. Neither does it imply that ideological motives are necessarily known to the translator or commissioner or are acted upon consciously. Ideology

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may be so deeply socially and culturally ingrained that it operates subconsciously and hides behind taken-for-granted assumptions. Thus, sociological translation analyses may reveal both deliberate and subconscious ideological influences. The importance of ideology gains particular significance when considering translation in social contexts such as colonisation, nationalism, war, dictatorship or state oppression. Studying changes in translation in relation to ideological changes may provide much insight into the social functioning of translation at an intrinsic level, i.e. its features and its underlying message, for example, whereas power relates to the more extrinsic social effects of translation. However, it is difficult to separate these in practice and their interdependent nature must be acknowledged.

1.3

Translation History

In a chapter on translation history in the Routledge Handbook of Translation Studies, S¸ ehnaz Tahir Gürça˘glar (2013: 133) justifies the relevance of historical research in translation (1) by referring to it as the first task of a modern theory of translation, (2) by mentioning its necessity in legitimising the relatively new field of translation studies and (3) by explaining its transformative force in multiplying points of view on translation. Gürça˘glar (ibid.) mentions that the desire to gain general insights into translational phenomena by examining history does not result from “idle curiosity”, but is tied to a goal of understanding or promoting current issues about translation. She divides historical research in translation into two categories, namely so-called “pure” translation history (history for the sake of history), and historical research as “a means of exploring general translation-related phenomena or elaborating on translation theories” (i.e. history for the sake of theory) (ibid.). She indicates that very few researchers conduct pure history writing and that “for most translation researchers history is not an end in itself, but rather a means towards obtaining information about more general translational phenomena” (Gürça˘glar 2013: 133). There are some authors (see Tyulenev 2012b) who believe that historical research in translation should be done more for its own sake and that

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present needs should not inform historical research objectives (since this may result in a type of superimposition of present needs onto our reading of the past). Yet, the theoretical and practical usefulness of historical research in relation to present concerns in translation is acknowledged in this research. Given translation studies’ relative nascence in South Africa, and Africa more generally, an investigation of history could prove very beneficial in mapping the translation landscape over time and could contribute to theories regarding translation’s specific local or regional functioning. It also has potential practical worth in this context, since currently, discourse in South Africa related to translation and language is often fuelled by very real practical problems, which may benefit from academic enquiry into the past. Since historical research is not conducted for its own sake in this book and is approached with an “agenda”, its theoretical and methodological role is secondary to that of sociology in this case. However, historiography’s narrative mode and history’s contextualising and concretising functions are indeed exploited. History provides a “story” and a sequence of events which lend dynamism and relevance to sociological deliberation in comparison with purely theoretical sociology or discourse focussed on more “stationary” social settings. It makes sociological phenomena observable in relation to concrete events and artefacts and allows comparison, contrast and broader contextualisation in relation to time. Interspersing sociological analyses throughout narrative historical accounts of translation practices rather than strictly severing these, as is done in this book, provides a concrete and tangible handle on the sociological interpretations, which might remain somewhat abstract and theoretical in isolation. The interpretive value of sociological analyses can therefore be better appreciated within evolving real-world accounts of translation practices, which incidentally promise to provide an interesting read in themselves.

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Social Systems Theory

Systems theories are frequently employed in sociologically oriented translation research. Tyulenev (2014: 160) explains that this is because of the fact that “translation has always been implicitly or explicitly associated with structures larger than itself ” and one way of conceptualising these structures, or the environments in which translation operates, is by systemic thinking. Tyulenev (ibid.) describes two main kinds of social systemic paradigms that have been employed in translation: those that concentrate on larger social formations (macrostructures) and those that concentrate on individuals (within microstructures). Since this research was conducted at the very broad level of society, it involves a macrostructural approach, whose value has been mentioned with regard to the type of power relations it is able to unveil. Macrostructural theories mentioned by Tyulenev (ibid.) that are commonly used by translation scholars include Pierre Bourdieu’s field theory, Niklas Luhmann’s SST , Jürgen Habermas’s theory of communicative action and Anthony Giddens’s theories on social systems in the context of globalisation. The structural configurations provided by these scholars are helpful in studying the nature and operation of translation as a social practice at a broad scale and help to account for “translation’s natural social habitat” (Tyulenev 2014: 164). Systems theories in particular do not only describe the environment of translations as systems, but describe translation itself as a system, thereby having the advantage of helping to solidify translation’s status as a unique social activity (ibid.). Niklas Luhmann’s SST was chosen as the theoretical basis of this research for several reasons. These are elaborated in the second chapter, but very briefly, Luhmann’s theory of society firstly provides one of the most extensive and detailed descriptions of societal functioning yet, making it worth the attention of translation scholars. Furthermore, Luhmann bases his theory of society, or, more generally, his theory of social systems, on communication, making it particularly applicable to language-related research. Thirdly, Luhmann’s theory offers a means for accounting for translation’s social operation in somewhat unconventional ways due to its focus on autopoietic social systems rather than on people and more traditional conceptions of social order. Although his theory

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offers but one of many ways of conducting social research in translation, and other research paradigms are by no means dismissed, SST provides a very distinctive social perspective. In the application of SST to translation, this book draws partly on previous applications by Theo Hermans (1999, 2007a, b) and Sergey Tyulenev (2009, 2012a, b, c) and relies partly on new applications of SST to the society or societies which exist/-ed in the area currently known as South Africa. Whereas Hermans focuses on the description of translation itself as a system, Tyulenev describes translation as a sub-system of society on the whole with the view to uncovering its sociological functioning in a very broadway. Tyulenev’s application, which is more closely followed, provides an excellent way to investigate translation in its broad mediatory function. He describes translation from the perspective of SST as a boundary phenomenon or “semi-permeable membrane”, which functions on the borders systems by selecting and filtering information into those systems based on ideological stimuli. By observing society in terms of the opening, closing and filtering function of translation, much can be revealed concerning the relationship between translation, power and ideology, particularly when comparing what is filtered into systems with what is filtered out. Tyulenev’s membrane metaphor offers a very original conceptual apparatus, but it has not yet been employed to account for the internal operation of translation in multilingual contexts, which has necessitated an extended application in the current research. The application of SST in this book initially involves consideration of written translational interaction between different societies (and more specifically different types of society displaying different degrees of development, or so-called emergence) within the current boundaries of South Africa. In later history, one societal type is seen to predominate and the application of SST in this context involves distilling society into a network of interacting systems which are differentiated functionally. In other words, so-called function systems emerge from the specific functions they fulfil for society at large. Translation is not considered to be a system in the earlier historical accounts, but it is later seen to emerge as a function system whose function for society lies in mediating communication across intelligibility barriers (or indeed resisting mediation or very selectively mediating information) depending on ideological stimuli.

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Translation is seen to be influenced, but not directly controlled, by the ideological climate of society as the overarching system, or by other societal sub-systems or indeed other societies. Translation is described in its functioning on outer societal boundaries in interlingual communication with other societies, in line with Tyulenev’s descriptions. Power relations and ideological influences are evident at this level by examining communicative ties between societies and the types of text filtered into society by translation’s “membranic” function. Translation’s function is also explained in relation to internal language barriers which often correspond with class distinctions and other social barriers in the South African context with clear links to power and ideology. SST is explained more fully in the next chapter, with each successive chapter dedicated to a section of South African history, proceeding chronologically. An attempt has been made to encapsulate the developmental stage of translation and its main social role in the titles of each of these chapters rather than highlighting the historical era under investigation. This reflects the intention to present history from the perspective of translational changes, rather than from within the confines of traditional period delineations, which have been critiqued for being reflective of settler or otherwise “white” history. However, it is exceptionally hard to escape these “traditional” delineations when discussing translation, since colonial (including apartheid) history, which constitutes the largest part of the history under investigation, did to a significant extent dictate changes in translation due to the control of translation by colonially instituted hegemonic forces. Therefore, the fact that the third chapter’s scope coincides with the period of Dutch colonial rule and the fourth, with the period of English colonial rule, for example, is a result of the accompanying ideological and power changes and their effect on the major translation trends rather than a consequence of taking these typical period delineations as taken-for-granted historical points of departure. Therefore, correspondence between the scope of individual chapters and traditional period divisions reflects ideological and power-related conditioning rather than traditional historical prescription. This volume has been written with the intention of focusing readers’ attention on the

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nature of translation as a social operation rather than on the history itself in the analysis chapters.

References Álvarez, R., & Carmen África Vidal, M. (1996). Translation, power, subversion. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Gürça˘glar, S. T. (2013). Translation history. In C. Milán & F. Batrina (Eds.), The Routledge handbook of translation studies (pp. 131–143). London and New York: Routledge. Hermans, T. (1999). Translation in systems: Descriptive and system-oriented approaches explained . Manchester: Saint Jerome. Hermans, T. (2007a). The conference of the tongues. Manchester: Saint Jerome. Hermans, T. (2007b). Translation, irritation, resonance. In M. Wolf & A. Fukari (Eds.), Constructing a sociology of translation (pp. 57–78). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Rizzi, A., Lang, B., & Pym, A. (2019). What is translation history? A trust-based approach. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Simeoni, D. (2007). Between sociology and history: Method in context and in practice. In M. Wolf & A. Fukari (Eds.), Constructing a sociology of translation (pp. 187–204). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Tymoczko, M. (2010). Translation, resistance, activism. Boston: University of Massachusetts Press. Tyulenev, S. (2009). Why (not) Luhmann? On the applicability of social systems theory to translation studies. Translation Studies, 2(2), 147–162. Tyulenev, S. (2012a). Applying Luhmann to translation studies: Translation in society. London and New York: Routledge. Tyulenev, S. (2012b). Social systems and translation. In Y. Gambier & L. Van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of translation studies (Vol. 3, pp. 160–166). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Tyulenev, S. (2012c). Translation and the Westernisation of eighteenth-century Russia: A social-systematic perspective. Berlin: Frank & Timme. Tyunelev, S. (2014). Translation as a social fact. The Journal of the American Translation & Interpreting Studies Association, 9 (2), 179–196.

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Wolf, M. (2007). Introduction: The emergence of a sociology of translation. In M. Wolf & A. Fukari (Eds.), Constructing a sociology of translation (pp. 1– 36). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

2 Social Systems Theory—Fundamentals and Application

In this book, I employ a perspective which de-emphasises human agency in favour of social structures and which is not typically tied explicitly to power and ideology to a history which clearly involves humans and emphasises power and ideology. This requires some explanation. Social systems theory (SST) was found to yield valuable insights into translation’s social characteristics and its social environment and, in spite of the apparent incongruence, allows meaningful analysis of power and ideology in a way that does allow discussion of people. The abstraction of society and translation into communicative operations conceivable within a framework of interacting systems and the comparison of translation’s function for society with that of a semi-permeable membrane offer, to my mind, a very original perspective. This perspective allows for effective macrocontextualisation of translation practices socially and allows power and ideology to be discussed in unconventional and therefore illuminating ways, although it does make referring to the agents of translation somewhat more cumbersome than is the case with other theoretical possibilities. This limitation is acknowledged, but it is not seen as a reason to dismiss the valuable contributions of this theoretical stance. © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_2

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SST offers many conceptual advantages and a robust theoretical foundation for the sociological observation of translation. It is not prescribed as “the ultimate” theory and I am not necessarily an ardent promoter of SST, as other scholars are, but find it exceedingly enlightening none the less. This theoretical choice is further explained in the following section, after which the fundamental concepts of SST are explained in the remainder of the chapter.

2.1

Why Social Systems Theory?

In justifying the application of Luhmann’s SST to translation, the first obvious motivation would be that Luhmann is considered one of the greatest sociologists of the twentieth century with one of the most substantial social theories to have been conceived. Hermans (1999: 137) credits both Luhmann and Bourdieu with having been prolific, innovative and controversial sociologists whose influence extends well beyond their area of specialism. He further regards both as relational thinkers who were “acutely aware of theoretical and methodological issues” (ibid.). These facts alone warrant attention from researchers involved in translation sociology. But, why not Bourdieu? Bourdieu does, after all, seem to be favoured by researchers studying translation sociology, particularly in relation to power. In order to motivate choosing Luhmann over Bourdieu, a brief comparison of these scholars’ theories is provided. In a chapter dedicated to such a comparison, Anja Weiss (2004) firstly identifies an important similarity between Luhmann’s SST and Bourdieu’s field theory. Both complicated one-dimensional Marxist ideas concerning social inequality related to production relationships by identifying a host of social inequalities which differ according to fields and systems, respectively (Weiss 2004: 210). In Bourdieu’s case, society is conceived from the perspective of fields and in Luhmann’s it is seen from the perspective of systems. These social constructs differ significantly in their operation and in their emphasis on inequality. Fields designate autonomous social areas such as judiciary or political fields, for example, in which agents operate based on certain rules (as in a sports game). Agents compete for capital

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(whether social, economic or cultural), which determines their position in the field by employing their agency (Barker 2005: 448). Hierarchy and inequality are thus built into Bourdieu’s conception of fields (Weiss 2004: 213). By contrast, inequality is subordinate to systemic differentiation in Luhmann’s conception of modern society in particular. Although Luhmann’s function systems designate similar social realms to Bourdieu’s fields, these are not hierarchical, and their function is described apart from the inequalities which may exist within them (Weiss 2004: 214) based on communication as the interacting principle. Luhmann’s focus on communication is the first feature that makes his theory not only interesting, but particularly appropriate to language-related research. If societal functioning is to be viewed with a focus on interlingual translation, a societal model that relies on communication provides a very fitting analytical mechanism. Luhmann focuses heavily on the structure side of the structure-agency continuum and grants inequality a secondary role to functional differentiation. Yet these “peculiarities” allow translation to be approached in fresh and productive ways in relation to power and ideology. Power relations can be discussed in interesting ways within the context of communication instead of relying on more typical and perhaps even hackneyed discussions of competition for cultural capital. In addition, Luhmann’s structure focus has theoretical benefits in terms of the scope it allows. If, as Tyulenev (2012a: 164) explains, social systemic theories are placed on a cline with structure and agency poles, then so-called “grass roots” theories such as the actor-networktheory, concerned with individual translators in smaller networks, would be placed close to the agency pole, while more large-scale theories, functioning at the level of society, would be placed near the structure pole (Tyulenev 2012a: 164–165). Tyulenev (2012a: 165) explains that moving between these poles allows one to “zoom in or zoom out” on social phenomena related to translation. Since the desire in this research is to zoom out to consider a broad set of translation trends, Luhmann’s theory is very fitting. Bourdieu’s emphasis on agents (within structures) places his theory closer to the middle of the cline.

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Social Systems Theory According to Luhmann

The explanation of SST begins with a consideration of some of the basic characteristics of Luhmann’s original conception of the theory before considering its application to translation by Theo Hermans and Sergey Tyulenev, respectively, in the following sections. SST was formulated in relation to a life’s goal of providing a grand theory of society in all its infinitely complex facets and functions. While the resulting comprehensiveness and complexity is beneficial, it makes a full explanation of SST somewhat difficult and even unnecessary. Therefore, instead of attempting to relay all the complexity, this section draws selectively from it to the extent that it benefits the current research. This mirrors its application by Tyulenev (2012b: 44) who states that his research “is neither an illustration nor a systematic or synoptic presentation of Luhmann’s theory, but a critical application of his theory to a case study”. In Luhmannian theory, one finds a general systems theory (which is the most abstract systemic level), a social systems theory (which is intermediate) and a theory of society, which is a particular case of a social system (Segre 2014: 187). General systems include three types: social systems, psychic systems and living systems. Living systems refer to physical, biological systems, psychic systems to human consciousness and psychological activities and social systems to systems of communication. Social systems include societies, organisational systems and interaction systems, which are all dependent on living and psychic systems. The latter two types of social systems (organisations and interactions) are not applicable in this research. Society is therefore simply one specific type of system, but it is an exceptionally important one, since it is the all-encompassing social system. Function systems, which were compared to Bourdieu’s fields, form sub-divisions of modern society and encompass the various functions of society. These include, for example, literary, economic, political and religious systems. Some preliminary comments will be made about a major distinguishing factor in Luhmann’s notion of society (its being void of humans) before social systems and society as a social system with its various function systems are further explained.

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It has already been mentioned that Luhmann sees people as existing outside of society. It is not humans that constitute society, Luhmann argues, but communication which allows its existence. Luhmann (2012: 7) explains: Society does not weigh exactly as much as all human beings taken together, nor does its weight change with every birth and death. It is not reproduced, for example, by an exchange of macro molecules in the individual cells of a person or by the exchange of cells in the organisms of individual human beings. It is therefore not alive. Luhmann (2012: 12) goes on to explain: The inquiries that follow […] do not, of course, deny that there are human beings, nor do they ignore the glaring differences in living conditions between the various regions of the globe. They merely refrain from making these facts a criterion for defining the concept of society […]. And it is precisely this reticence that enables one to recognize normative and evaluative standards in dealing with people.

Luhmann places people outside of social systems as psychic and living systems and society exists apart from them as the sum total of communication. Luhmann (2012: 7) explains: Society does not weigh exactly as much as all human beings taken together, nor does its weight change with every birth and death. It is not reproduced, for example, by an exchange of macro molecules in the individual cells of a person or by the exchange of cells in the organisms of individual human beings.

Seeing society neither as a collection of people nor as a set of actions sets Luhmann’s theory apart from most other social theories. Luhmann argues that without communication, whether in the form of words, signs or actions, there can be no “sociality”, which is the binding factor in society. While not only societies possess sociality, society is the sum total of all sociality, of all communication. Luhmann (1995: 408) explains this as follows:

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[S]ociety is the all-encompassing social system that includes everything that is social and therefore does not admit a social environment. If something social emerges, if new kinds of communicative partners or themes appear, society grows along with them. They enrich society. They cannot be externalized or treated as environment, for everything that is communication is society. Society is the only social system in which this special state of affairs occurs.

Luhmann does not see the world as being constituted of societies, but of one global society consisting of all communication. While this perhaps has merit when describing general societal functioning, the purpose of this research is to perform a contained, localised study, which means that this particular feature of society as a social system has been adapted for the sake of regional interest. Thus, two main points so far are: (1) social systems consist of communication and can be distinguished from biological and psychic systems and (2) there are various types of social systems, of which society is the overarching social system, encompassing all other systems. Of the systems included in society, the importance of the so-called function systems has been pointed out. Theo Hermans (2007b: 64) describes function systems as “systems which specialize, so to speak, in performing certain socially necessary functions, such as producing collectively binding decisions (politics), the management of scarce resources (the economy), or maintaining social order through the distinction between permissible legal and punishable illegal acts”. The type and number of function systems are not predetermined, and any number and type of function systems can be described, although there are several prominent and generally agreed-upon function systems in society, such as the political, economic, religious, scientific, legal, educational, health, literary, art, media and sports systems. It is important to note that this description of society according to functions was applied to industrialised and post-industrialised Western society and represents a stage in what Luhmann calls the evolution or emergence of society. Society, according to Luhmann, has undergone a type of emergence based on changes in the structuring of communications. This emergence of society is an important aspect of Luhmann’s

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theory in the current research, since written South African translation history initially involves the interaction of various types of society before one homogenous form of society emerges. According to Luhmann’s description, society was originally divided into equal sub-systems consisting of families, clans and tribes. This type of society is characterised by relative equality and is therefore described as segmented. After the period of segmentation followed a period of differentiation according to centre and periphery criteria, or according to cities and rural areas. Thereafter followed the emergence of classes in a stratified society, which Luhmann sees exemplified in the feudal system of the Middle Ages. Finally, in industrialised modern society, the functions of society rather than hierarchical elements provide the main structure within which communication takes place. The periods of communicative development do not necessarily exist alone and there may be some overlap, as is explained by Seidl (2004: 13): Each of these primary forms of differentiation can be combined with the other forms of differentiation on a secondary level; e.g. in stratified society the different strata were often differentiated internally into equal subsystems (segmentation) or according to the difference centre/periphery. Similarly the different functional subsystems might be differentiated internally into equal subsystems, into centre/periphery or hierarchically.

Nevertheless, primary functions remain observable. In South African history, a process is observable by which, as a result of colonisation, the two middle periods, the centre-periphery and stratified periods, have been foregone in a leap from segmentation to functional differentiation, although a secondary hierarchical structure can be observed within the primary structure of functional differentiation which eventually emerged as the all-encompassing social structure. This situation provides an interesting context for the application of SST to South African history. Hermans (2007a: 118) explains that Luhmann “is aware that his own brand of sociology is a product of the contemporary world it seeks to describe”. He continues (ibid.): “How it will fare when it engages in detail with other societies remains to be seen”. This indeed poses an interesting challenge to which the current research offers a response

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which indicates that while the “prototype” of modern society in its Western manifestation may have developed gradually along these lines, its more recent reproduction showed another pattern of emergence. This, however, does not mean that the occurrences cannot still be described in general Luhmannian terms. The following discussions of the main characteristics of social systems focus on modern society with its functionally differentiated sub-systems, as this modern perspective of society represents Luhmann’s main focus and this is the form of society which features most prominently in the current research in spite of the initial convergence of different societal types. It is also hoped that by focusing the discussion on modern society with its function systems, the comprehension of the operation of systems more generally can be facilitated, as helpful examples from within functionally differentiated society can be used in order to make the otherwise abstract concepts more tangible.

Autopoiesis Autopoiesis is an important concept in Luhmann’s theory. It refers to the ability of a system to self-determine its operations as opposed to being directly affected by its environment, which includes other systems and even non-systematised communication, i.e. simply a realm of indeterminate complexity (Luhmann 1995: 27). Perhaps the easiest way to explain the autopoietic nature of social systems is to use the biological examples of David Seidl (2004), which really help to “de-mystify” Luhmann’s complex notions which are not furnished with examples by Luhmann himself. Seidl’s choice of biological examples is not arbitrary, since Luhmann based his concept of social systems on the work of two Chilean biologists, Humberto Maturana and Francisco Varela, who described autopoietic systems in biology. Maturana and Varela used the word autopoiesis, meaning self-creation or self-production, to describe living systems. A living system reproduces itself. One may apply this principle to a living cell (here I paraphrase Seidl 2004: 2–3). A cell reproduces its own elements, such as lipids, proteins and so forth. These are not taken in from the environment, but

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are produced by the cell itself, making the cell an autopoietic system. This operation is in contrast to so-called allopoietic systems, whose elements are produced by outward entities. Autopoietic operations exist in processes of self-production, and in this regard, they are closed. This is known as operational closure. Although they depend on their environment (as a cell depends on its environment for energy and other matter), systems are not directly formed by their environment, but depend on their own autopoiesis in interacting with the environment. The system determines all exchanges with the environment and outward events never directly determine its operations, although they may provide triggers. Seidl (2004: 3) provides another biological example here. One may hold one’s finger over a flame. The flame triggers the response of a heat sensation in the finger. The eye constructs a vastly different sensation in response to the flame: light. This proves that the same trigger may affect different responses by different systems. But how does this relate to sociology? In a somewhat controversial jump from biology to sociology, Luhmann applies the principle of autopoiesis to the description of social systems to explain that the operation of social systems may be influenced by other systems, which provide triggers, yet is determined by the system itself. In other words, the system makes use of its own means to deal with stimuli. Perhaps the best way to understand this principle is to look at the operation of function systems by means of what is known as their binary code. The binary code of a system is simply a distillation of the function of that system into two polar concepts which explain the function of the system in relation to society and give the system internal order. An example is lawful/unlawful for the legal system or truth/untruth for the science system. While this binary code is an aspect of Luhmann’s model which has attracted some criticism (see Segre 2014: 206), it does help to understand the concept of autopoiesis. While various function systems in society may stimulate one another, the systems can only respond to the stimuli from other systems by means of their own binary code. The political system, for example, no doubt influences the legal system of a society, but the legal system can only respond to that stimulus in a way that relates to legality and illegality. Hermans (2007b: 65) provides the

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following explanation of the autopoiesis of function systems, which helps to make the concept clearer: Luhmann thinks of the major function systems of the modern world – the economy, politics, law, science – as rather self-centred networks that read everything that happens around them in their own terms. Politicians translate the church’s moral pronouncements into their own vocabulary and interests. The commercial sector puts a price on art on the basis of criteria that are common currency in the business community but may well be at odds with those employed in the art world. Natural catastrophes trigger very different responses among environmentalists, the news media, medical staff and insurance companies, for instance. Luhmann calls these reflexes “operative closure”. Whatever systems take from their environment they convert into their own currency. For their operations systems draw on their own resources.

Luhmann asserts that in modern functionally differentiated society, no system is dominant over other systems. Rather, they are simply structurally linked to each other, allowing them to react to each other’s stimuli. Nevertheless, an assessment of stimuli is able to indicate distributions of power in society. Tyulenev (2014: 163) points out, for instance, the “undeniable” influence of the political sub-system over the economic and education systems. But he emphasises that this influence is never absolute, since the political system is dependent on other systems to perform tasks that it is unable to perform. In this sense, systems remain interdependent and are unable to dominate. Social systems reproduce themselves by means of communication (with communication implying or pre-supposing psychic or conscious participants in the environment). Thus, communication is the selfreproducing mode of operation of the social system (Segre 2014: 187). The system reproduces itself by making a distinction between itself and the environment and reproducing that distinction (ibid.). The environment, which has been distinguished from the system, is an infinite set of complexities outside of the system. The system reduces the environment’s complexity through selection; yet, it remains operatively closed. In other words, it relies only on its own internal operations to continue, receiving merely stimuli from the environment. The stimuli from the environment

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effect a type of irritation (see Hermans 2007b) and their relationship with the system produces what is known as structural coupling. For the system to be structurally coupled to the environment means that it is able to adjust itself based on important stimuli from the environment (see Tyulenev 2012b: 44). The distinction between what is within the system and what is outside the system can be thought of as a distinction between self-reference and hetero-reference. The boundary existing between the two is not permanent, but fluctuates—in fact, Luhmann’s entire conception of social systems is based on temporal rather than fixed spatial concepts (see Hermans 2007a: 113). The system constantly defines or re-defines itself by drawing a distinction between itself and the environment and reproducing that distinction through communication. The system exists in the continuation over time of a recognisable connection of sequences and ceases to exist when connecting sequences cease (ibid.). In this way, the system produces and forms itself, i.e. exercises its autopoiesis.

Communication The first important observation regarding communication in SST relates to what it includes. Language is not the only type of communication in Luhmann’s theory. Rather, communication is understood very broadly, and all the binary codes of function systems encapsulate forms of communication (which may rely on language, or non-linguistic forms of communication such as payment). However, language occupies a special place in Luhmann’s theory since it is the most stable form of communication (Luhmann 2012: 58). It is also the most relevant form of communication in this book and even where communication is discussed in terms of actions (which are discussed under the next heading) such as the publication of books, the relevance of such an action hinges on linguistic phenomena and is interpreted in relation to language. The second important feature of Luhmann’s understanding of communication is its inferential nature. In the chapter “Connecting Systems” in The conference of the tong ues (2007a), Hermans traces Luhmann’s view back to the observations of Karl Bühler and relates it

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to Michael Reddy’s inference model seen in his so-called Toolmaker’s paradigm (Hermans 2007a: 114). Luhmann’s understanding of communication can also be linked to Wilson and Sperber’s relevance theory (based on Grice’s ideas on inference), and it sees communication as more than simply encoding and decoding messages in a straightforward manner, but rather as a process which involves contextually interpreting a speaker’s intended meaning. Luhmann understands communication as a combination of three elements: information, utterance and understanding, of which the third is critical in his theory. In explaining these, I refer again to Seidl (2004: 7). The first element, information, is seen as a selection from a set of possibilities. In other words, in all communication, there is a selection of what needs to be communicated from everything that could possibly be communicated. The second element, utterance, refers to the way in which something is communicated and why it is communicated. Utterance is also seen as a type of selection. It is the selection of a particular form and reason from all forms and reasons. Understanding, the third element, is the distinction between information and utterance. By distinguishing information from utterance, the domain “information” can be separated, to which cognition can be attached. Seidl explains (ibid.): If alter says to ego: ‘I am tired’, ego has to distinguish the information (‘I am Tired’ and not e.g.: ‘I am very energetic’) from the utterance (the words alter is using and the reason why alter is saying it: e.g. alter wants to indicate that ego should leave him alone; he is not saying it in order to get any advice on what to do about his tiredness).

Distinguishing the utterance “I am tired” from the information “I want to be left alone”, thus results in understanding. The communicative act is completed by understanding and not simply by uttering information. Understanding thus becomes the condition for successful communication. Luhmann approaches communication from the “reverse” direction in this sense. For him, communication does not lie in the intended meaning, but in the understood meaning. In other words, meaning is determined by the receiver of the utterance and not by the producer. In this sense, meaning is not transferred, but inferred (Hermans 2007a: 63).

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Because of this, the ability to communicate cannot be attributed to an individual. It requires at least two parties, making it a social activity. A fourth element can be added to the above-mentioned three elements of communication, namely acceptance (or rejection). This refers to the fact that an utterance may be understood, but rejected and therefore understanding does not imply acceptance (Seidl 2004: 7). This distinction adds a further dynamic element to the communication process, allowing or disallowing further communication and, in the case of the former, determining the type of communication to follow.

Action The fact that Luhmann’s communication model relies on understanding to complete the process makes communication rather difficult to analyse, since understanding is not easily discernible. Therefore, actions become important in the theory as a means of analysing communication in more discernible ways. Traditionally, either people or actions have been seen to be the elements of social systems. Actions are not disregarded by Luhmann as elements of social systems, but they are seen in relation to his communication model (and in this regard are in fact endowed with much significance). To Luhmann, communication is not a type of action, as is the case with Habermas, who speaks of “communicative action” (Seidl 2004: 11). While information and utterance might involve action, understanding, the most essential of the three, does not involve (perceivable) action (Seidl 2004: 12). Thus, if meaning were dependent on action, Luhmann’s theory would fall apart. The importance of action, however, lies in its ability to allow social systems to observe their communications and communicate about their communications (ibid.), through the production of communication in the form of information and utterance. Systems view their communications not as communications, i.e. not necessarily by considering the completed process of communication (see Luhmann 1995: 168), but as actions which are attributed to actors, i.e. persons (Seidl 2004: 12). Communication is viewed in terms of actions rather than as fully completed communication, since actions

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are easier to deal with, meaning that it is easier to look at communication as utterances than to compare the originally intended meaning with the understood meaning of an utterance (ibid.). Secondly, it aids in considering communication temporally. While communication depends on understanding to be completed, actions occur at an identifiable point in time (ibid.). Thus, while communication is at the heart of the functioning of Luhmann’s social systems theory, action also comes into play in allowing communication (at least in its first two stages) and in simplifying communication about a system’s communication.

Structural Coupling Structural coupling has already been briefly defined as the ability of a system to adjust itself based on stimuli from the environment (Tyulenev 2012b: 44), but the concept requires some elaboration. According to Hermans (2007b: 65), “the term means that a system develops structures that also suit the demands of other systems, so that various systems can coexist while retaining their own identity and their specific difference”. As an example of this Hermans (ibid.) mentions that schools (in the educational system) might begin to teach creationism alongside or instead of evolution as a result of evangelical lobbies (in the religious system), expressing a correlation between these systems through which they are coupled to one another, though not directly controlling one another. This coupling of a system with the environment can in a sense be seen as the counterpart to operative closure. Hermans explains (2007b: 66) that “if operative closure suggests autonomy, structural coupling points towards heteronomy” and continues that “put differently, structural coupling conditions a system’s autonomy but does not determine it”. There is therefore a continual interplay between heteroreference and self-reference in the operation of a social system in which it is influenced by its environment and even has structures to deal with outside influence on the one hand, but deals with those influences according to its autopoiesis, its autonomy, on the other. This aspect of

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Luhmann’s theory yields valuable insight when applied to both the development and the description of translation as a function system, as is shown in the analysis chapters.

First- and Second-Order Observation A further important concept in SST is first- and second-order observation. A social system exists by continually drawing distinctions between itself and the environment through self- and hetero-reference, and this process is described by Luhmann as observation, through which form is achieved. Observation is a concept which Luhmann takes from British mathematician George Spencer Brown, who sees observation as a means of drawing distinctions to obtain information and not as an optical phenomenon. By drawing a distinction, there is the delineation of a marked (seen) state and an unmarked (invisible) state, as can be achieved by drawing a circle on a page, with the inside of the circle representing the marked state and the outside, the unmarked state (Seidl 2004: 21). Drawing this first distinction, by which the unmarked state becomes invisible, is known as first-order observation. Another distinction, including the marked and unmarked states, must be formed in order to see both. This is called second-order observation. The first-order observer cannot observe the distinction, while the second-order observer observes the first observation and the distinction. This relates to social systems in that the operation of every autopoietic system is based on observation consisting of distinction and indication. The system consists of a distinction between itself and the environment and the operation of the system makes a distinction between what it is and what it is not (its environment). The system therefore distinguishes between selfreference and other-reference through observation. Thus, “social systems shape their operations as observational undertakings, which allow the system itself to be distinguished from its environment” (Luhmann 2012: 19). This can be applied to the previous discussion of communication. What is communicated can be considered the marked state, while all the possible communications which are not communicated are the

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unmarked state. The unmarked state is not to be laid aside as unimportant, however. Seidl (2004: 24) explains: “These other possibilities of communication […] are not just other communicative options which just happen not to have been realised, but they are constitutive for the realised communication; the meaning of the communication depends to a large extent on what has not been communicated”. This matter is quite important in Hermans’s view of translation as a social system, which will be discussed shortly. Both Hermans and Tyulenev emphasise the importance of studying a system’s observation diachronically. Hermans also explains the process by which a system recycles its observations, so to speak, in its process of formation. Hermans (2007b: 66) states: A system operates by means of distinctions to obtain and process information, and in this sense a social system is an observing system. When a system observes itself by means of its own constitutive difference – that is, when it re-enters the basic distinction that renders it distinct – it can generate self-descriptions. When such self-descriptions focus on the system as a whole, they become reflection theories. Self-descriptions and reflection theories typically re-enter the system’s constitutive difference into their own observation of that system. If the sciences operate with a distinction between true and false, epistemological theories within the sciences re-enter that distinction to reflect on the nature of science. To the extent that this becomes a matter of observing, within the sciences, how the sciences observe the world, we have observation of observation, or second-order observation.

This rather complex idea becomes clearer when this principle is applied to translation in the application of SST to translation.

Power The final important concept within SST in relation to this publication is power. Sandro Segre (2014: 195) explains Luhmann’s view of power by defining it as a communicative function by which power holders are enabled to select “the action alternatives available to themselves and

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others”. In this way, they are enabled to allow certain events to take place against the will of others. This is enabled by “physical coercion and the ability to inflict negative sanctions” (ibid.). What is interesting is that Luhmann sees power not as something wielded only by the dominant party. Instead, both dominators and subjects are power holders to the extent that they are able to restrict the action alternatives of another party (ibid.). This evokes a scene in which power is constantly exercised in two opposing directions, and the involved parties constantly make advances or are forced to retreat based on the ability to control and allow specific communications at the expense of the opposing party. However, a state of asymmetry always exists based upon the general ability of one party to control communicative choices. This view of communication in relation to power is useful for the discussion of translation, as the ability to select, represent or reject translational communication can be measured within the context of the usurpation of communicative choices.

2.3

Translation as a Social System

The explanation of translation as a social system in this section is drawn mainly from Theo Hermans’s explanation in The conference of the tongues (2007a). Since Sergey Tyulenev’s application of SST to translation involves seeing translation as a sub-system of society, rather than simply a system in itself, this application is discussed separately under the following heading. Hermans (2007a: 62) describes his motivation for applying SST to translation as desiring to “view translation through a system-theoretic prism with the aim of gaining a fresh perspective” (Hermans 2007a: 66) and his application does indeed succeed in this regard. Hermans explains that translation’s systemic distinction is derived from its function to expand society’s communicative range across natural languages. The system does this by producing communications that act as representations of their sources “on the other side of an intelligibility barrier” (Hermans 2007a: 67). Translation acts as a representation both in terms of proxy (standing in the position of the original) and in terms of resemblance (looking like the original). Its binary code is

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thus defined by Hermans as representation versus non-representation. Structural coupling allows the translation system to interact with its environment, for example by customising its products to fit existing text types or genres. A type of tension exists in the system between autopoiesis and structural coupling or between the system’s autonomy and heteronomy, as has been explained. In terms of structural coupling, the translation system reflects the differentiation of its environment. In other words, “the translation system copies into itself the differentiation it perceives in its environment so as to be able to mesh with a range of particular client systems – the medical world, the legal profession, finance, literature, journalism, and so on” (Hermans 2007a: 68). This internal differentiation allows the translation system to cope with the complexity of its environment. Nevertheless, it still operates according to its own structures and autopoiesis and is not directly governed by its environment. Hermans connects translation’s representative function with Lehmann’s communication model (Hermans 2007a: 68–69). He refers to translations as a type of secondary discourse or metatext. As such, translations report on what other texts (originals) have said and thereby make a distinction between information and utterance. Information, explains Hermans, refers to the resemblance of the translation to another text and utterance is the unique delivery or rendition of that text by the translator. Hermans likens utterance as applied to translation to holding up a frame (which may be done in a translator’s preface or simply by including the word translation on the cover of a book). He also likens it to inverted commas indicating reported speech, or to an actor indicating that he will perform Hamlet (implying that he will demonstrate a certain way of performing Hamlet). In the latter example, it is not the underlying text that is seen, but a particular performance of that text. Thus, translations do not only convey the content of the original, but can be read in terms of how they re-enact the original. This view of translation is quite fitting when considering the influence of ideology and power on translation (which Hermans does not mention explicitly here, but with which he would no doubt agree, keeping in mind his ties to the manipulation school). Although the general content of a text may remain the same as the original in translation, in its utterance, its performance or

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framing, ideological matters may be reflected. Utterance thus becomes an important communicative “level” where ideology comes into play and it is the utterance, together with, but distinct from the information, which influences the eventual understanding of a translation. Hermans then applies Luhmann’s concept of form to translation by saying that, as translations endorse and evaluate one another over time, translation becomes “condensed into patterns for further use” (Hermans 2007a: 69). What he means is that a certain mode of representation can be used at a different time and with a different text, but remains recognisable as the same mode. Form, then, “is then what emerges as the historical set of communicative practices that become recognizable as translation because particular modes of representation are selected again and again” (ibid.). Form is achieved through a process of selection. The translator selects a word from a set of available words and the chosen word becomes included inside the translation form. What is not included may be equally important to what is included, Hermans stresses, and this point again has ideological relevance. Potential word choices which are excluded, Hermans explains, become temporalised in that they are available for future use and become important since what is translated is always considered against the backdrop of what has not been translated. Moreover, what has not been communicated (“silence”), can also communicate. Hermans (2007a: 70) explains that silence may communicate an inability or an unwillingness to translate. Translation may, as Tyulenev (2012b: 18) puts it, “brill[e] par son absence”, i.e. be conspicuously absent. Thus, what is selected, measured against what is not selected or what is left out, creates a form, “a mode of representation at the expense of other modes” (Hermans 2007a: 70), which can be described temporally. In the future, there is a range of possibilities that remain to be activated, and in the past is an archive of previous forms that may be selected for use. Thus, the form of translation is twosided, including on the one side (the inside), those translational choices that have been made, and on the other (the outside), the other possibilities which exist. Given the fact that this research does not involve textual analysis mainly, this principle is applied not mainly to words, but to other translation-related trends at the macro-level.

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Hermans also employs the concept of first- and second-order observation in his description of translation as an autopoietic system. Concerning first-order observation in translation, Hermans (2007a: 71) writes that: “[W]hile translating translators can write their own subject positions as selectors into their performance as it proceeds, they cannot, in their own performance, survey or assess the conditions of possibility of their performance”. To assess that conditioning requires another perspective (second-order observation). The second-order observer of the translation is able to distinguish between the apparent meaning of the words that the translator uses and the “unspoken preconceptions undergirding those words” (ibid.). Hermans explains that this is what researchers and critics typically do when they read certain social practices as symptomatic of something larger and hidden. Translators may also participate in second-order observation by “commenting” on the work of other translators through their own translations by making differential decisions, for example. Hermans notes here that something like gender bias, which characterises translation in certain eras, is a construction on the side of the second-order observer (in the present). The translators in those eras merely translated what they thought was natural. This illustrates first-order observers’ inability to assess their own operation. By virtue of its reflection upon translation, most translation scholarship (including the present publication) can be considered second-order observation, and contributes to the autopoiesis of the translation system by allowing self-observation and the reproduction of communication within the system along particular lines of self-reflection in as much as second-order observation forms trends. Like primary translation activities, second-order observation is thus subject to change over time (Hermans 2007a: 74) and likely to form trends. These observations by Hermans form the basis upon which South African translation’s systematisation is considered in this book, yet this consideration as well as the bulk of the analysis takes place within the context of South African society from which perspective translation operates as a sub-system of society rather than simply as a system on its own. For this reason, Tyulenev’s observations which follow are of greater importance for the scope and context which they include in describing the functioning of the translation system.

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Translation as a Sub-System and Boundary Phenomenon

In their view of the functioning of translation as an autopoietic system, Tyulenev and Hermans agree to a large extent. Yet, as has just been mentioned, Tyulenev takes the application of SST to translation a step further by arguing that translation should not merely be seen as a system on its own, but should be viewed in light of its functioning within society on the whole. In this regard, Tyulenev sees translation as a sub-system and as a boundary phenomenon. Tyulenev (2012b: 162) sees the translation system under SST as consisting of translation communication events or TCEs (in some of his earlier works, he simply refers to these as translations), which comprise two communication events connected through mediation. In its simplest form, translation requires three parties. These parties (A, B and C) exist in a relationship where B mediates between A and C. Tyulenev ties these parties together by means of Luhmann’s communication model using information, utterance and understanding in the following way: A: Utterance1 > Information1 ∼ = B: (Understanding1 = Utterance2) ∼ > Information2 = C: Understanding2. This mathematical schema can be interpreted by saying that A (the source text for ease of explanation) consists of utterance and information, which are distinguished and interpreted to produce understanding, which is then conveyed as utterance and information in B (the translation, designated 2 because of the change undergone) and this is interpreted to produce understanding (of a second kind) with party C (in the target system). Tyulenev defines translation’s role as mediation rather than representation. The reason for this difference perhaps lies in the difference in perspective assumed by these theorists. Since Hermans investigates the translation system predominantly as a system on its own, his vocabulary perhaps reflects this view by not emphasising the destination of translations. Representation simply refers to the fact that a translation resembles and stands in the place of an original text or discourse, but it does not emphasise a sphere of interconnection as much as the word

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mediation does. Furthermore, representation implies less activity or interference than mediation. Mediation (which has a stronger personifying sense) more directly evokes intervention in the communicative act by the translation system with a specific purpose and for a specific audience. The term mediation recognises the influence of the originating system and points towards the influence on the destination system on the act of translation. It therefore foregrounds structural coupling to a greater extent than the term representation. For this reason, the term mediation is preferred here as the designation of the binary code of the translation system in this book. In the inter-societal context, Tyulenev describes translation’s function primarily as a means of reducing the complexity of society’s environment in order to “comprehend the incomprehensibility of the environment” (Tyulenev 2009: 150). This happens by reducing information into a form which can be comprehended by the system and introducing it into the system’s internal communication. Through this operation, translation becomes “one of the means for the system to grope for its boundaries” (ibid.). At the broadest social level (which Tyulenev calls the macro-level or γ paradigm), translation may either be a sub-system of an entire society or a sub-system of a particular function system or any other system for that matter (Tyulenev 2009: 160). It may also be considered as both a sub-system of society and a sub-system of other social systems simultaneously. Seeing it as a sub-system of society or of other systems means that the operation of the larger system in which and for which translation fulfils a communicative function contextualises the study of translation. Thus, whereas the study of translation merely as an autonomous function system takes the system as the sphere of observation, the study of translation as a sub-system includes the environment surrounding the system or system complex in its scope. In order to contextualise the operation of translation at this level, the interaction between the elements of the translation system and particular environmental stimuli must be emphasised. Tyulenev (2009: 156) explains that in a typical γ approach, social systems with their norms and discourses are studied in relation to the way they determine translation activities. The current research therefore follows this approach.

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Tyulenev (2009: 156) considers the constitutive elements of the translation system to be translations and other phenomena of social discourse, in particular ideologemes—expressions of ideology. Unlike translations, ideologemes do not only exist in the translation system, but may be manifested in the communication of virtually any system. They can be distinguished from ideologies by virtue of the fact that ideologies exist in the psychological realm as ideas whereas ideologemes are units of their expression in communication. This concept of ideologemes as communicative expressions of ideology was first described by Mikhail Bakhtin, who stated that “every word/discourse betrays the ideology of its speaker” and that “every speaker is an ideologue and every utterance is an ideologeme” (Bakhtin 1981: 429). Studying translations in relation to the ideologies they express as ideologemes may be used to contextualise the operation of translation within society. Ideologies, as ideas, may also be used as a point of reference in the social contextualisation of translation. In this case, coupling with the psychological environment is recognised. Therefore, whether ideologies or ideologemes are used to describe the operation of translation depends upon whether ideologies are present as psychological irritants or are expressed in communication. This brief overview of Tyulenev’s application of Luhmann’s theory to translation should make its suitability to the current research clear. By allowing consideration of translation in relation to various societal function systems and their interaction with other systems, translation’s social role may be investigated systematically in a broadway. Moreover, the acknowledgement of ideologemes as elements of the translation system (and of other systems) allows for the discussion of ideology in relation to translation. This often has very direct links to power, as the ability to propagate a certain ideology has to do with the ability to control communicative possibilities and as ideologies often represent combative social forces.

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Current Application of SST

In conclusion of this chapter, three matters related to the specific application of SST to translation in this book are addressed. The first relates to the position of language barriers and therefore the locus of translational operation, while the second involves the employment of the term society and the third, the description of translation as a system. The multilingual characteristic of South African functionally differentiated society required an adaptation of Tyulenev’s application of SST to translation. Tyulenev’s application of SST to Russian translation focused on the operation of translation in relation to other societies and therefore highlighted translation’s operation on language barriers around systems rather than within systems. This research, by contrast, considers translation’s operation upon language barriers both around and within systems, since both the domestic and inter-societal functioning of translation are analysed. In the former case, translation operates upon intra-systemic intelligibility barriers to reproduce information already present in a system in another medium. This also involves selective behaviour and is no less expressive of ideologies and power relations than translation’s operation on system boundaries. In the case of South African functionally differentiated society, intelligibility barriers within systems have tended to display a divide according to language prestige, reflecting the secondary stratified nature of society. Translation’s operation upon internal language barriers is therefore shown to be highly reflective of internal power relations in this book. The use of the term society requires some explanation, firstly because this book diverges from Luhmann’s universal perspective of modern society and secondly because there is tension between regional interest and societal descriptions in the history covered. Regarding the first matter, it is acknowledged that a regional preoccupation in sociological research is something which Luhmann opposed. Luhmann was very critical of sociologists, such as Anthony Giddens, who look at society as regionally bounded. For Luhmann, equating society with a nation state means that a concept of society becomes redundant (Luhmann 2012: 9). He considered the drawing of national boundaries an arbitrary phenomenon, unable to account for the boundaries of society. These

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sentiments are understandable in the light of his intention to define the limits of society theoretically and make sense when applied in particular to globalised modern society, where communication is comparatively unconstrained by regional boundaries. Luhmann (2012: 10) says in relation to globalisation that if functionally differentiated society is seen within national borders, “we underestimate […] the extent of worldwide, decentralized, and connectionistic communication via networks in the ‘information society’ – a tendency that computerization is likely to intensify still further in the foreseeable future”. However, the intention here is to perform a contained investigation with the goal of contributing to the understanding of a specific regional manifestation of translation. In addition, earlier manifestations of functionally differentiated society and segmented society do not display the same decentralisation and interconnection as modern society. Furthermore, it is believed that differences in autopoietic behaviour can be productively described within a national delineation in spite of this interconnection. For this reason, a national approach is assumed. This national perspective still requires clarification, however, since it does not imply by any means that geographic boundaries correspond with societal boundaries. Since society is seen as communication, this cannot be the case. The current geographic boundaries of South Africa are instead treated as a “practical” departure point for the discussion of translation involving the societies/society whose “jurisdiction” happens to overlap or have overlapped (wholly or partly) with the area. In this sense, geographical boundaries have no fundamental theoretical significance, but erect a practical perimeter separate from societal boundaries in Luhmannian terms. This means that interaction between various types of society within the region under investigation in the earlier stages of the history covered can be analysed safely. Regarding translation as a system, the question is in what way translation is described as a system and what its relation is to other systems in this case. Translation is seen to undergo a process of emergence from a simple communicative function of particular function systems to a distinct autopoietic system throughout this book. It is only once translation activities begin to cluster, develop specialised bodies and actively self-reflect in the early twentieth century that a process of systematisation

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and differentiation can be described. During the first two eras that are covered, translation therefore does not exhibit significant systemic qualities and its operation is directly determined by and subsumed within the systems which make use of it. After the systematisation of translation, the focus is on the way in which translation is employed by various function systems of South African society for their communication either inter-societally or intrasocietally. Yet the translation system itself is also considered a function system of society. The connections between other function systems and the translation system can be conceived of as temporary ties rather than permanent relations. In other words, as soon as any translational communication occurs, a connection is established, and it ceases to exist once communication ends. As soon as a translation enters a state of disuse, the connection is severed, although it can of course be reestablished at any time. Interpreting is easy to view in this way, since it is strongly temporally and spatially bound. Written translations offer a more complex relational potential owing to their existence as physical communication records that can be accessed by many people at different times. Although translation is seen as a communicative act as understood within Luhmann’s communication model, requiring understanding to be completed, the connections between it and other systems can be quantified or measured productively mainly in terms of the production and/or publication of a translation. If necessary or applicable, the acceptance of translations through the consideration of reader responses, etc. can also be factored in. The completion of the mediatory act is however left undetermined as far as measurable analysis goes. The assumption is that the translation will “take effect” (be interpreted by an audience) soon after publication, and will in most cases, eventually enter a state of disuse, depending of course on its status. This process therefore describes the way in which the translation system assumes its position on the language barriers of other systems and it should be kept in mind that its operation there is highly selective and constrained by both its own autopoiesis and structural coupling. It should also be noted that when the translation system mediates across language barriers within systems, it does so from without; it i.e. whilst retaining its autopoietic distinction. It is still

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considered a boundary phenomenon in this case, however, due to the fact that it effects selective mediation upon an intelligibility barrier. Translation is seen as a function system in particular despite the temptation to dismiss it as being unworthy of the function system status. Considering its ability to be described as fulfilling a particular societal function as an autopoietic system, there is no reason why translation cannot be deemed a fully-fledged function system. Since the number of function systems is not predetermined, whatever fulfils the role of a function system, and can be described as such, can be deemed a function system. Viewing translation as a function system also helps to appreciate the importance of its function in the context of society and helps to make overt translation’s sometimes hidden social operation. Another simple reason for seeing translation as a function system is that it cannot easily be described according to the characteristics of any of the other social systems within society that Luhmann describes. The application of SST to translation in this case therefore does not differ significantly from Hermans and Tyulenev’s applications in terms of the theoretical assumptions and the understanding of translation’s operation as a system/sub-system and the slight difference relates mainly to the application of SST to a society displaying a comparatively high degree of multilingualism.

References Bakhtin, M. (1981). The dialogic imagination. Austin: University of Texas Press. Barker, C. (2005). Cultural studies: Theory and practice. London: Sage. Hermans, T. (1999). Translation in systems: Descriptive and system-oriented approaches explained . Manchester: Saint Jerome. Hermans, T. (2007a). The conference of the tongues. Manchester: Saint Jerome. Hermans, T. (2007b). Translation, irritation, resonance. In M. Wolf & A. Fukari (Eds.), Constructing a sociology of translation (pp. 57–78). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Luhmann, N. (1995). Social systems. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Luhmann, N. (2012). Theory of society (Volume 1) (R. Barret, Trans.). Stanford: Stanford University Press.

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Segre, S. (2014). Contemporary sociological thinkers and theories. Farnham: Ashgate. Seidl, D. (2004). Luhmann’s theory of autopoietic social systems. Munich: Ludwig Maximilian University. Tyulenev, S. (2009). Why (not) Luhmann? On the applicability of social systems theory to translation studies. Translation Studies, 2(2), 147–162. Tyulenev, S. (2012a). Social systems and translation. In Y. Gambier & L. Van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of translation studies (Volume 3) (pp. 160–166). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Tyulenev, S. (2012b). Translation and the Westernisation of eighteenth-century Russia: A Social-Systematic Perspective. Berlin: Frank & Timme. Tyunelev, S. (2014). Translation as a social fact. The Journal of the American Translation & Interpreting Studies Association, 9 (2), 179–196. Weiss, A. (2004). Unterschiede, die einen Unterschied machen. Klassenlagen in den Theorien von Pierre Bourdieu und Niklas Luhmann. In A. Nassehi, & G. Nollmann (Eds.), Bourdieu und Luhmann. Ein Theorienvergleich (pp. 208–232). Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.

3 Commencement—Knowledge Exportation

The analysis of written South African translation commences with the period of Dutch colonisation (ca. 1652–1795) simply because no written tradition existed in South Africa1 before this time and colonisation therefore contextualised the earliest translations to be produced in South Africa or to involve South African languages. It is not uncommon for writers on translation in such colonial contexts to situate interlingual translation within a broader realm of cultural “translation” in the sense of cultural conversion or the imposition of cultural norms onto dominated people. Among those who have identified these two translational levels are Padma Rangarajan (2014: iv), who states: [A]t the heart of every colonial encounter lies an act of translation […]. Imperial conflicts (and the cultural encounters they necessarily engender) reveal [inter-lingual translation’s] function as a locus of power.

Susan Bassnett and Harish Trivedi (Bassnett and Trivedi 2002: 4), who similarly position interlingual colonial translation within a broader “translational” context (I use quotation marks to distinguish cultural © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_3

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translation from interlingual translation), explain the asymmetrical state of cultural transfer in the colonial experience as follows: Europe was regarded as the great Original, the starting point, and the colonies were therefore copies, or “translations” of Europe, which they were supposed to duplicate. Moreover, being copies, translations were evaluated as less than originals […].

Bassnett and Trivedi thus see colonial “translation” as an act of imposed cultural transformation. While interlingual translation certainly reflected this typical type of colonial relation in later history, it initially displayed dominating relations in somewhat different ways, as will be explained shortly. In any case, interlingual translation mirrored colonial power dynamics. Rangarajan (2014), in reference to Karlheinz Stierle, describes two possible types of colonial translation, represented by vertical and horizontal axes, respectively. While vertical translation denotes a type of translational usurpation, horizontal translation denotes translational mutuality and dialogue (Rangarajan 2014: 15). This perhaps provides helpful vocabulary for descriptions of translation in any cases of cultural power imbalance, which are of course particularly pronounced in colonial situations. Although the achievement of true horizontality is shown to be somewhat idealistic from the perspective of social systems theory (SST) in the next chapter, these concepts are nonetheless employed in parts of this book to describe general orientational trends with regard to translation. The imposition of European culture onto indigenous societies, to which Bassnett and Trivedi refer, is evident in this chapter in the absence of translation rather than its practice, although translation practices in the next chapter express trends of colonial cultural imposition. The general lack of written translation in the Dutch colonial period exemplified the dominant colonial mindset, characterised by a disinterest in the “alter” and an imposition of the language of colonists upon native peoples. Translation practices themselves, however, instead functioned to interpret and “possess” indigenous cultures through knowledge acquisition and to draw distinctions between European society and indigenous societies, which no doubt paved the way for later attempts at cultural

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conformation and “civilisation”, however. Yet, these translation trends can still be considered vertical by virtue of their “extractive” nature by which they served the interest of European societies, displaying no motivation to exchange or interact, as would ideally occur on the horizontal translational plane. Although written translation was rare, interpreting was more commonly practiced, particularly in initial interactions between Dutch colonists and the Khoekhoe (formerly transliterated as Khoikhoi), an indigenous people with whom the Dutch had trade relations. This took place until the colonial languages replaced Khoekhoe2 dialects—remarkably rapidly—in areas of contact, which reflected the culmination of cultural domination of the Khoekhoe. Colonial oppression was evident in these cases of interpreting mainly in the treatment of Khoekhoe interpreters. Although interpreting falls outside the scope of this book, the oppressive nature of early interpreting practices deserves mentioning as fairly well-documented evidence of translation’s reflection of colonial domination (see Botha 2019 for a brief discussion). The chief motivation for written translation during the early colonial period came from visiting European scientists and travellers. In contrast to economically-minded settlers who showed relatively little interest in indigenous South African society apart from trade and labour interests, visiting European naturalists showed scientific interest in local society, sparking the first rather primitive attempts at written translation, mainly from Khoekhoe. Translations were part of European scientists’ attempts to classify and systematise indigenous peoples and their languages and to portray their “strangeness” and “foreignness” in relation to Western cultures. In this case, translation’s main purpose was the acquisition of knowledge and it was not primarily intended as a means of communication with the local people. Translation further played a role in distributing the acquired knowledge through the translation of travel accounts into various European languages for scientific and popular audiences. Once an explanation of the historical context and a description of the characteristics of society in this period have been presented, this chapter focuses on the primary (extractive rather than distributive) level of translation.

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Historical Background and Societal Character

The first written translations in South Africa involved interaction between European functionally differentiated societies and local segmented societies. The description of functionally differentiated society in this chapter is more extensive than that of segmented society, since: “In simple segmentary societies, self-descriptions were rather unproblematic” (Luhmann 1988: 26). David Connell (2003: 86) explains that segmented societies are organised around very small units of primarily face-to-face interaction and knowledge of the surrounding geographical space. The descriptions of segmented society therefore focus on the influence of the environment on the structure of segmented society, which follow typical descriptions of the organisation of indigenous societies in history books. Luhmann postulates, however, that as societies become more complex, a disconnection from physical environmental influences can be observed (ibid.) and system-to-system relations dominate descriptions, making Luhmann’s particular theoretical perspective more apparent in the description of functionally differentiated society.

Segmented Society As was mentioned in the previous chapter, segmentation refers to the differentiation of society into equal sub-systems (Luhmann 1977: 33). Luhmann attributes this characteristic to archaic societies and understands equality to mean the principles of self-selective system-building, either in terms of descent or settlement or both. Inequality may enter into segmented systems based on changes in environmental conditions, but, in segmented society, inequality does not have a systemic function (ibid.). As inequality develops in accordance with the environment, a stratified system should eventually emerge under “normal” developmental conditions, according to Luhmann. However, colonisation of Southern Africa hastened the onset of inequality, as will be seen.

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It is possible to describe three different expressions of segmented society in South Africa during the time of the arrival of Western colonists based on degrees of societal emergence. San (or Bushman3 ) society represents the archetype of segmented society. Hunting and gathering practices and physical environmental conditions allowed a large degree of egalitarianism in San society (Cuthbertson et al. 2010a: 44). A dry landscape with abundant wildlife promoted a nomadic lifestyle which prevented the accumulation of possessions and required small and flexible group structures, which, in turn, led to informal leadership not based on wealth (ibid.). In addition, sharing ensured group survival in harsh conditions (ibid.). In terms of political organisation, John Wright (1977: 23) explains: “The small-scale, face-to-face nature of Bushman groups allowed communal decisions to be made by an informal consensus [among] the older and more experienced hunters”. Though these took the lead in making certain decisions, San groupings lacked formally recognised chiefs or councils. The Khoekhoe, with whom the early settlers had the most interaction, were descendants of hunter gatherers and in addition to possessing a similar click language, they shared many similarities with the San; in fact, these groups are often referred to collectively as the Khoesan to emphasise their linguistic similarity in particular (Den Besten 2010: 267). The main distinction between the type of society produced by this group and the San arose from Khoekhoe herding practices in addition to hunting and gathering (Thompson 2001: 11). Since the Khoekhoe’s source of food was more stable, they were able to live in larger groups of between 200 and 500 members, requiring a more complex social hierarchy (Wilson 1982: 59–60). Groups were divided into clans according to patrilineal descent and generally one clan was assigned authority (Wilson 1982: 58). Since livestock represented wealth and was privately owned, Khoekhoe communities displayed wealth distinctions (Thompson 2001: 15). Poorer Khoekhoe worked for others in exchange for milk and animals and represented a lower social ranking (ibid.). However, since the main organising structure in Khoekhoe society was the clan system rather than economic ranking (Wilson 1982: 58), and since social organisation was rather fluid and highly dependent on environmental conditions, Khoekhoe society can be considered segmented

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rather than stratified despite status distinctions. The fact that political dominance was not strongly asserted by the chief and important decisions were made by a council of elders (Wilson 1982: 61) further justifies this classification, as it implies group consciousness and valuation of the clan as a collective body, even if not to the extent of San egalitarianism. Various Bantu tribes also inhabited South Africa from around the third century A.D. These shared some social characteristics with the groups already discussed, but apart from racial and linguistic distinction, differed mainly in their practice of crop cultivation in addition to herding and hunting (Thompson 2001: 16). Crop cultivation resulted in greater food security and thus the ability to form larger, more permanent settlements requiring a greater degree of social structuration (ibid.). Bantu peoples are typically divided into two general groups according to language; the Sotho-Tswana and the Nguni groups, each of which included various language groupings. This distinction has little effect on socio-structural descriptions however. Like the Khoekhoe, the Bantu groups prized cattle, which determined wealth and power to a large extent (Thompson 2001: 18). Settlements were arranged according to homesteads, in which a male was assigned leadership according to genealogy (ibid.). Chiefs were recognised at the clan level and possessed more authority than Khoekhoe leaders, performing important ritual obligations and making political decisions (Cuthbertson et al. 2010a: 126). As in Khoekhoe society, however, important decisions could not be made without consulting with family heads and elders. Bantu tribes also practised clientage (Wilson 1982: 120), yet, as with Khoekhoe society, economic rank was not the main form of social organisation, but relations at the level of tribe or clan. Bantu tribes traded and interacted with each other and with Khoesan groups and were not isolated. Their social structures were also stable enough to withstand the influence of Western society well into the nineteenth century. Although none of the segmented groups discussed above possessed a form of writing, this does not mean that oral translation did not occur between or within these societies. Interaction most likely necessitated interpreters and evidence exists of linguistic influence.

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Functionally Differentiated Society Western societies made contact with Southern African societies following the conclusion of the feudal age (representing stratified society with its organisation into unequal groupings) and at the commencement of a new age in history where, in response to environmental complexity and as part of the process of growth and emergence, Western and other societies began to differentiate themselves into sub-systems of functional specialisation. Despite the apparently equalising trend that may come with functional differentiation in comparison with stratified society— Luhmann (1977: 36) describes it as a society which “pretends to be a society of equals”—stratified thinking, both in terms of wealth and degree of “civilisation”, was glaringly present in Western ideology during the mid-seventeenth century, when the first Dutch ships arrived at the Cape. This may have been an ideological vestige of the preceding stratified feudal society. Cuthbertson et al. (2010a: 189) also attribute status awareness to Calvinism’s emphasis on predestination, and to religious standards of propriety. Functional differentiation is evident in the initial branching out of Dutch society to Africa by the economic sub-system of that society, which by this time showed a fairly high degree of functional development as an independent system. The economic sub-system fulfilled such an important societal function that it was given political power to conduct war and perform invasions without the need for consent by the Dutch political system (Ward 2009: 9), which points to a lack of complex differentiation between these two systems, however. The Dutch did not initially intend to establish a colony at the Cape, although a process of reluctant or “accidental” colonisation did take place (Keegan 1996: 15). The goal of Dutch settlement was initially merely to set up a refreshment post for passing ships of the Dutch East India Company (the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie or VOC), and the intention was to keep it as small as possible to reduce costs. However, the desire to keep expenses minimal and to gain direct profit had a stifling effect on the company’s internal economy (Cuthbertson et al. 2010b: 13) and led to a quick process of disassociation of settlers in the lower ranks of the VOC from company society, leading to the establishment of a permanent “freeburgher” society composed of “freed” officials.

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Economically-informed ideologies also manifested in exploitation of indigenous peoples. Although Western society at the Cape can initially be considered mainly as an outbranching of the Dutch economic system, with economic social functions displaying obvious pre-eminence, by 1750 it had begun to differentiate more complex social functions and from at least this point, it can be considered an independent society. People from different European nations began to settle in the Cape, such as French Huguenots and Germans wishing to escape the ruin of the Thirty Years War (Thompson 2001: 35). The influx of these settlers and the development of freeburgher society led to the establishment of a more functionally diversified society at the Cape. Social functions included agriculture, education (though very limited), law (though not fully independent of the VOC executive function) and religion (Cuthbertson et al. 2010b: 12). Functional differentiation was minimal compared to the degree of emergence seen in the West because of a relatively small population and widespread poverty, but by the end of the eighteenth century, the Cape was one of the most developed European colonies. Though the settlement had developed from an extension of the Dutch economic system to a more established society, on the side of Dutch officials and wealthy Europeans at least, an economic mindset prevailed. Although this development of functionally differentiated society is important for subsequent discussions, it is not this society that initiated written translational contact with indigenous societies. Instead, the stimulus for written translation issued from Western European societies (rather than colonial offshoots) and more specifically the science sub-systems of those societies. The communication produced by seventeenth and eighteenth-century European travellers, who were responsible for producing the first translations, served to develop European science systems through contact with the environment. As part of this process, translation can be seen as a communicative function of European science function systems and a separate translation system cannot really be discerned at this time. While elementary theories regarding translation had certainly been developed already and serious translation (in the form of Bible translation and the translation of classic literature, for example) was well established, translation was not yet a specialised social function.

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It had not reflected upon itself to a significant degree and did not as yet possess any specialised programmes. Therefore, it can instead be seen as subsumed within literary, religious and other social functions. The interaction of European science sub-systems with the environment did not have the same effect as the outbranching of the Dutch economic system. Science sub-systems had a temporal relationship with South African societies and did not directly stimulate the development of a South African science function system or a separate society. However, they may have indirectly influenced the development of functionally differentiated society in South Africa by providing incentives for colonial settlement further inland and subsequent civilising attempts. Yet, the probing of science systems into the environment mainly and directly affected European societies by filtering information into European academic hubs.

3.2

Resistance to Written Translation

Since translation’s lack may be an indication of ideological conditioning and power relations as much as its practice can, local functionally differentiated society’s resistance to translation is mentioned before Western societies’ translation of local languages is discussed. Cape Town during the VOC period was fairly diverse. Besides European settlers and Khoekhoe, there were also African and Asian slaves, which produced a multilingual atmosphere. The lack of written translation might be surprising given this context. Birgitt Olsen (ibid.) provides various reasons for this dearth. The first is general illiteracy, not only on the side of pre-literate indigenous peoples or among slaves,4 but also on the side of European settlers. The lack of educational development therefore had a constraining effect on the possibility of written translation. Further reasons include physical isolation (a physical environmental stimulus) and poverty (an economic stimulus). These reasons were especially prohibitive in the lower ranks of society at the Cape. In the higher ranks of Cape society, ideological conditions prevented translation. A preoccupation with financial gain and a general disinterest

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in any aspects of indigenous culture, stemming from a feeling of superiority, was a trademark of wealthy European settlers and VOC officials, providing no incentive to translate into or from local languages. Given these social and physical conditions, evidence of only two written translations stemming from within Cape settler society during this era could be found. What Olsen (2008: 16) regards as the first written translation in South Africa is a translation produced by a Christian minister, Pierre Simond, a French Huguenot, in around 1690. It was a translation of the Psalms of David into French unrhymed verse titled Les veillés Africaines (African watch hours). This translation is discussed in some detail by Olsen (2008) and represents an exceptional occurrence. In addition to this, a vocabulary containing sentences translated from Khoekhoe (then known as Hottentot) into Dutch was produced, which in fact preceded Simond’s translation. The vocabulary was compiled by Georg Friedrich Wreede, a VOC official who had studied philology, and its printing was, rather remarkably, commissioned by the VOC, which “was not really interested in Cape Colonial linguistics” (Den Besten 2010: 267). No copies of this vocabulary, called Compendium, remain, however, nor is there any evidence that printed copies ever arrived at the Cape (Den Besten 2010: 273). Wreede’s vocabulary is unique since it issued from within Dutch settler society rather than being produced by European travellers, as was the case with other vocabularies, and since it was not produced as part of more general research, but was solely a linguistic endeavour. In terms of typicality, both these translations can be considered highly a-typical whereas a lack of written translation was the typical tendency.

3.3

Naturalist Translation

The translations produced by European scientists from South African languages during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries stemmed from various personally undertaken scientific excursions into the Cape interior which were recorded in published travel journals. This translation trend represented an exclusively outward flow of information from South African societies towards European societies. They were not

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reciprocal, but completely extractive or vertical. In her book Imperial Eyes (1992), Mary Louise Pratt explains that the writings of European explorers, within which these translations were embedded, represented a type of intellectual colonisation of Southern Africa and even laid the foundation for physical expansion into the interior. Regarding the latter, Alette Fleischer (2010: 249) explains that colonisation was partly justified by exploration as it declared the land vacant by recording the absence of Western symbols of ownership such as housing or agriculture. Though European explorers were not directly interested in physical expansion of the colony, but in the furtherance of science, their intentions cannot be divorced from the influence of colonial ideology. This is because the description and naming of foreign natural phenomena and peoples, like colonisation, represented a form of ownership and possession. Research was conducted within a European mental framework of superiority and represented to a large audience from this perspective. Scientific travellers would not have been aware of their contribution to Western intellectual ownership of Africa (being first-order observers in this case), yet their communication can be tied to colonial ideology fairly directly. The negative depiction of native peoples in early scientific and travel writing is an undisputed colonial ideologeme and although Siegfried Huigen promotes a non-colonial reading of post-1719 travel accounts, the expression of supremacist ideology is clearly observable in these accounts too. In a review of Huigen’s book, Ryszard Bartnik (2010: 114) argues that it is debatable that “[post-1719] scientifically minded explorers did not act, allegedly, out of the distinctive European cultural/intellectual context”. He refers in this regard to the shunning of indigenous people by certain explorers and to the treatment of natives as scientific specimens and quotes Abdul JanMohamed, who states that eighteenth-century European travel writing “affirms its own ethnocentric assumptions [and] preserves the structures of its own mentality” (ibid.). Peter Kolb, whom Huigen (2009) defends as a contender for the recognition of Khoekhoe religion, only did so to the extent that this religion corresponded with the Jewish religion, and thus matched European standards of civilisation, Bartnik explains. Bartnik is able to find proof of a view of indigenous peoples as uncivilised and inferior in the work of virtually all the late eighteenth-century explorers mentioned by Huigen.

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Therefore, though masked by the “objective” intentions of science, all the translations that are examined in this section can be linked rather directly to power and ideology in the colonial context. Scientific motivation for foreign excursions, and for the translation which it stimulated, should be seen in the light of the changes that started taking place with the Age of Exploration and the Enlightenment, which coincided with the shift towards functional differentiation. The Enlightenment fostered a drive towards academic enquiry, which intensified around the beginning of the eighteenth century, but is observable in South Africa since Dutch colonisation. According to Pratt (1992: 15), the publication of Carl Linneaus’s Systema Naturae (1735) and the simultaneous launching of Europe’s first major scientific expedition marks an era in which changes were taking place with regard to the way European elites understood themselves and their relation to the rest of the world. Pratt (ibid.) refers to this change as a new version of “Europe’s ‘planetary consciousness’, […] marked by an orientation towards interior exploration and the construction of global-scale meaning through the descriptive apparatuses of natural history”. This “planetary consciousness” motivated European explorers to produce descriptions of foreign fauna and flora, people and languages and represented the beginnings of the “hegemonic reflex” of modern Eurocentrism (ibid.). Two periods of travel writing can be described (which do not correspond with Huigen’s ideological division). The first covers the period 1652–1730 and, after a period of silence, the second emerges in 1770 and lasts until 1796 (Den Besten 2010: 269). Renewed scientific endeavours during the second period are related to travels further inland and contact with peoples more preserved from European contact (ibid.). In both these periods, linguistic research involving translation formed but one research avenue within scientific enquiry encompassing a broad scope. The accounts mentioned below are not exhaustive and concern the most notable writers whose general scientific work contained translation between South African indigenous and European languages. The first attempts at translating from Khoekhoe into European languages consisted mainly in the production of Khoekhoe vocabulary lists alongside Latin, Dutch or German equivalents and even some

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longer sections of translated text, with relatively few strictly grammatical remarks (Den Besten 2010: 267). The first such translation can be found in a 1658 vocabulary published in a book by Étienne de Flacourt, a French colonial administrator and governor of Madagascar (Den Besten 2010: 288). Evidence of a depreciatory view of the Khoekhoe is evident in De Flacourt’s book by a mere glance at the title, in which the Khoekhoe are referred to as “sauvages”. The second was Wreede’s somewhat unique Compendium, mentioned earlier. Another basic translation of Khoekhoe words can be found in the diary of Willem ten Rhyne, a Dutch doctor who visited the Cape en route to the East Indies (Den Besten 2010: 274). His diary, published in 1686 in Switzerland and translated into English in 1704, contained an entire chapter on the Khoekhoe language. Interestingly, Den Besten (2010: 274–275) describes the Khoekhoe language commented on by Ten Rhyne as a Cape Dutch pidgin, indicating the rapid influence of Dutch on the Khoekhoe dialects. This chapter contains some basic translation in the form of vocabulary lists in Khoekhoe-Dutch pidgin translated into Latin. Ten Rhyne’s writing on the Khoekhoe is extremely uncomplimentary. The following passage from his diary (English translation in Schapera and Farrington 2011: 123) serves to illustrate this fact: Their native barbarism and idle desert life, together with a wretched ignorance of all virtues, imposes upon their minds every form of vicious pleasure. In faithlessness, inconstancy, lying, cheating, treachery, and infamous concern with every kind of lust they exercise their villainy.

This example is incidentally not any more insulting than the rest of his writing on the character and habits of the Khoekhoe. Nicolaas Witsen, an intellectual who served several times as mayor of Amsterdam and was also a VOC administrator, sent two translated Khoekhoe vocabularies to German linguist Job Ludolf by 1695 (Den Besten 2010: 276). The vocabularies were accompanied by Dutch equivalents, to which Ludolf added a Latin column, and were published in Ludolf ’s 1710 biography (ibid.). Another version of these vocabulary lists, kept in Moravian archives in Herrnhut, Germany, contains a third

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column in German (Den Besten 2010: 279). The fact that this vocabulary was of interest to the Moravians (who initiated the first Christian mission to South Africa) offers the only evidence that vocabulary lists may have been used to facilitate communication between Europeans and Khoekhoe. All other evidence suggests purely academic intentions behind the compilation of translated vocabularies. In a similar trend to what was described above, a letter supposedly written by Wilhelm de Grevenbroek, a Dutch intellectual responsible for one of the first studies of the Khoekhoe, was sent to Amsterdam containing vocabulary lists in both Khoekhoe and Xhosa (a Bantu language) with their Dutch counterparts (Den Besten 2010: 280). In 1697, an improved vocabulary along with Khoekhoe translations of the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments and the Nicene Creed were sent to German polymath Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, who published these in 1717 (Den Besten 2010: 281). The three Christian texts took the form of Dutch-Khoekhoe interlinear translations with comments on translation problems and were produced in the interest of comparative linguistics and not for evangelical reasons (Leibniz collected the Lord’s Prayer in various languages as part of his linguistic research) (ibid.). De Grevenbroek’s writing is less severely degrading than Ten Rhyne’s, as he does show some degree of admiration for the Khoekhoe’s health and appearance, but he too employs the word savages and shows disdain for some of their ways, such as their culinary habits, as indicated in the excerpt below (Schapera and Farrington 2011: 179): They live also on wild fruits and roots, and other unpurchased victuals; and whatever else hunger and the belly that is the dispenser of invention has taught gluttons to devour, this they swallow down into their insatiable maws; nor does that barking dog, their stomach, spare whales or other monstrous fish which the tide casts dead or alive upon the shore. Such are their choice feasts!

In addition to the authors mentioned above, linguistic research containing Khoekhoe translation during the first period was produced by François Valentyn, a Dutch Protestant minister, Peter Kolb, a German astronomer, and Johan Daniel Büttner, a German surgeon. According

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to Den Besten (2010: 284), research for these academics entailed much copying. He explains that Valentyn and Kolb copied information from a manuscript on the Khoekhoe languages produced by De Grevenbroek, although Kolb did improve and add to this document (ibid.). Valentyn included it in a section on South Africa in his 1726 book on the East Indies and Kolb used the same information in his book Caput bonae spei hodiernum (1719) (ibid.). Kolb’s book was translated into various languages from the original German, including Dutch (1727), English (1731) and French (1741), with another German publication appearing in 1745. According to Huigen (2009: 33), this was the most important publication on the Cape to appear until 1800, as it was the first to deal exclusively with the Cape and was the most extensive. Büttner’s data was only published in the twentieth century and was only available in manuscript form prior to that. Valentyn’s lists were published in Khoekhoe and Dutch, while Kolb’s appeared in Khoekhoe, German and Latin. Regarding the ideology expressed in these authors’ writings, Valentyn is certainly guilty of derogatory statements, famously complaining that the Khoekhoe language sounded like the clucking of turkeys. Furthermore, he makes statements similar to the examples already provided, such as: “The men […] are […] the laziest creatures that can be imagined, since their custom is to do nothing, or very little” (Valentyn 1973: 71). Regarding Kolb, it has been mentioned that it is hard to be convinced of his supposed defence of the Khoekhoe, as he has been recorded stating, for example, that the Khoekhoe were “without doubt, both in body and mind, the laziest people under the sun” (Kolb 1731: 46) and that “their whole earthly happiness seems to lie in indolence and supinity” (ibid.). Regarding Kolb’s inability to shake a Western definition of civility, Bartnik (2010: 115) explains from Kolb’s perspective: [T]he Hottentots could not be perceived as mere savages because of a relatively close bond between their native spirituality and its JudeoChristian equivalent. Hence, within the “Western intellectual framework” their status was distinguishable from and superior to the separate and undefined peoples of Africa.

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The Swedish physician Carl Peter Thunberg was one of three main naturalists of the second period to have produced translations from Khoekhoe. An account of Thunberg’s travels appeared in a four-volume work in Swedish (1788–1793), which was translated into German (1792), English (1793–1795) and French (1796). The first two volumes of this work included linguistic research entailing translation from Khoekhoe in a few pages of words and short sentences, in which three types of clicks were distinguished (Den Besten 2010: 289). Thunberg’s main interest in plants makes his ideological stance somewhat difficult to discern. Although his work was ideologically neutral by comparison, Thunberg was a follower of Linnaeus’s model of racial categorisation and contributed to the stereotypical depiction of people according to colour (see Kowner and Skott 2015: 49–50). Thunberg’s contemporary and fellow student under Linnaeus, Anders Sparrman, produced the first extensive account of the Cape interior and compiled vocabularies in three indigenous languages. According to Den Besten (2010: 290), Sparrman produced five pages of “specimens” of two Khoekhoe dialects, and Xhosa influenced by Khoekhoe. His work was first published in Swedish (1783), and was translated into German (1784), English (1786) and French (1787) and focused on botany, zoology and indigenous peoples. Sparrman provides a degrading picture of the Khoekhoe, describing them as dull, inactive and slothful, for example (Sparrman 1975: 209). François le Vaillant compiled vocabulary lists in Khoekhoe and French, and his work stands out among the publications already mentioned in that it is characterised by an extremely sensationalistic depiction of his travels, meant to rouse excitement. His work also attracted the most attention, and was widely translated and re-printed. The fact that abridged versions of his work appeared in children’s stories and that he wrote some so-called fabricated stories is telling of his more imaginative approach. Le Vaillant’s two volume Voyage dans l’intérieur de l’Afrique, par le Cap de Bonne-Espérance (1790 and 1795) was supposedly “one of the most phenomenal best-sellers of the day” (Marks 1972: 157). Marks explains that “it went through twelve editions in six years and was translated almost immediately into more than half a dozen European languages” (ibid.). Huigen contrasts the cover of Le Vaillant’s

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book with that of Peter Kolb’s book in order to point out the glaring difference between these publications. While Kolb’s personification of Geography, History and Experience evokes a sense of rationalism and scientific method, Le Vaillant’s cover presents an exotic picture with a giraffe, fantasy trees and a “gesticulating, and conspicuously dressed figure of the author” (Huigen 2009: 120), reflecting his sensationalism. His description of the “savages” attracted particular attention. Despite the imaginative influence, Le Vaillant’s work was still considered as legitimate scientific discourse and its reception indicates the preferences of the European public, with clear ideological implications. Although the exotic was very obviously foregrounded in Le Valliant’s depictions, it also informed informational selection and representation in the work of other travellers, in which “uncivilised” man was depicted in relation to and from the perspective of “civilised” Western man. Michael Harrigan explains that travellers were driven by la curiosité, which was “associated with the collection of manifestations of difference” (Harrigan 2008: 59). He goes on to explain that “a travel narrative which was either written by or intended for curieux would place significant importance on phenomena which were considered unusual or of aesthetic value” (ibid.). Harrigan admits that this phenomenon may seem rather innocent. However, a desire to display exotic traits must be tied into a Western sense of superiority. What was seen as exotic was not only different, but uncivilised, as is clearly evident from the examples mentioned. J.M. Coetzee (1989) reiterates this perspective in European travel writing by pointing out that descriptions of the Khoekhoe by Western travellers were decidedly selective, focusing on foreign peculiarities or so-called differentia and thus highlighting otherness. Coetzee explains that the ability to highlight otherness was accomplished by employing a research method called anthropological narrative rather than anthropological description. The narrative mode allowed for categorical description, allowing researchers to highlight peculiarities according to categories such as dress, habits, eating, religion and language. Coetzee attributes the view of the Khoekhoe as lazy (the main topic of his chapter) to the influence of Protestantism, which promoted hard work and discouraged idleness.

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Besides the desire to emphasise exotic traits, scientific motivation obviously also extends to both periods of scientific writing. While the descriptions of eighteenth-century scientific writing above may seem rather unscientific by modern standards given the use of derogatory terminology and other elements obviously expressing subjectivity (such as the narrative mode and the use of the diary genre), it did represent some of the first attempts towards scientific method. Thus, two very different ideological motivations for writing, and therefore translation, somewhat paradoxically coalesced eighteenth-century travel writing. One motivation was a curiosity-driven interest in the exotic which went hand in hand with a derogatory and sensationalistic depiction of people and nature, while the other was an interest in acquiring knowledge by means of empirical science. Translating from Khoekhoe was therefore done on the one hand for linguistic and scientific purposes, motivated by a desire to understand, possess and categorise and, on the other hand, by a desire to display the strangeness (and inferiority) of foreign languages and cultures to Europeans. The translations from Khoekhoe can be considered illustrative in both cases, presenting to people a picture of the exotic languages “at the edge of civilisation” from the perspective of Western ideology and within the framework of “objective” science. Coetzee’s highlighting of the selectivity of naturalist writing provides a link with Luhmann’s communication model and its underscoring of selection in processes of communication. The selection of information, the first stage in Luhmann’s model, was constrained firstly by scientific criteria, by which the subject had to be unstudied to qualify as an object of research. Informational selection was further based on differences and exotic elements stemming from the prevalence of the ideology of curiosité. Khoekhoe with its characteristic clicks certainly qualified as exotic and translation of Khoekhoe words and phrases offered a means of presenting “specimens” of local languages to European audiences. The format of these publications and translations also possess ideologemic relevance at the level of utterance. Not only did the thematically arranged narrative approach of the publications in which the translations occurred facilitate the underscoring of differentia, but the tabular and interlinear format of translations was also representative of the categorisation and systematisation to which indigenous peoples and languages

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were subjected. The fact that the word “specimens” was employed by Sparrman to refer to the collected translations is therefore significant. It implies that these translations were illustrations, pieces of evidence or collections of data that were arranged categorically and scientifically as were other natural specimens. The fact that translations were produced as lists was a reflection of the desire to arrange and categorise, but it also had the effect of divorcing the language from the natural spoken context, highlighting the scientific rather than communicative intention behind the compilation of these lists. The fact that indigenous languages were represented in a highly simplified format perhaps also reflects a view of indigenous people and their languages as simple or primitive and may imply that a mere reduction of the languages into word lists sufficed to arrive at certain conclusions about the languages and people in question. Thus, both foreignness and scientific method served as selection criteria at the level of utterance. The expression of elitism and curiosité as ideologemes had important consequences on the self-reproduction of European science systems. Derogatory representations served to mark a distinction between European societies and environmental societies in terms of civility, education, morals, etc. Scientific utterance by means of classification, categorisation and annotation in turn complimented derogatory and sensationalistic descriptions by minimising Khoekhoe languages to simple manifestations of the exotic and turning the Khoekhoe into objects of scientific study. Both informational selection and utterance can be seen as a type of “packaging” of the acquired information for consumption within European societies and reflect the effect of the semi-permeability of the boundary surrounding European societies under the constraint of reigning systemic ideologies. The extracted information was “packaged” in the form of publishable texts, much like other resources were extracted and transported from the colonies to Europe. Alette Fleischer (2010: 246) explains: “Europeans, for their part, transformed their acquisitions into transportable parcels for European centres, where material goods were further processed, refined and sold, and information became authorized and dispersed”. Translation was employed not only in the “packaging” process, but also in the dissemination process. Reference was

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made to translations of original texts into various European languages for this reason and the languages which were selected in processes of knowledge distribution are also significant in relation to utterance. Trends are evident when one looks at the European languages into which translation from indigenous languages and translation of travel accounts occurred, with Latin, English, German, Dutch and French featuring prominently. These languages represent the main European academic centres during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, with Latin performing a universalising role as an international auxiliary language. The fact that research was published in and translated into academically prominent languages facilitated information transfer, as these languages may have been accessible to researchers of various European societies and facilitated informational absorption into various societies. Language choices therefore facilitated structural coupling between ideologically and structurally comparable societies. Changes that occurred in European systems as a result of this importation of information, whether directly or via translational dissemination, can be linked to a greater process of development and specialisation of European scientific sub-systems. When considering the effect of selective communicative behaviour in this case, acceptance can also be factored in, in which case the consumption and popularity of scientific publications is telling. The popularity of travel writing in Europe is evident in the number of translations and reprints of certain of the journals mentioned and says something of the “success” or penetrating ability of this communication within European systems. Informational extraction on the one hand involved turning heteroreference into self-reference through knowledge acquisition. Yet, a process is also observable whereby a distinction was drawn between the system and the environment at the levels of informational selection and utterance through distinguishing between domestic and foreign, familiar and exotic. The classification of information according to these distinctions allowed them to be classified either as resonating with the values and ideologies of the system, or as representing values and ideologies which could not be accommodated in target systems and were thus to be relegated to a description of the environment. By this, European systems distinguished themselves from the environment by perceiving

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the distinction between themselves and the environment within themselves. Therefore, in terms of the self-reproduction of European societies, scientific sub-systems fulfilled the role of a semi-permeable membrane, simultaneously receiving information from the environment that would add to the complexity of the system, while erecting a boundary between themselves and environmental systems under the constraint of systemic characteristics and ideologies. Regarding the ideological representation of scientific information, Luhmann’s theories on first and second-order observation can also be applied in that European naturalists and travellers were blind to the distinctions which they themselves drew in their observations. Their distinction entailed highlighting differences in the so-called marked state, and designating similarities and favourable or uninteresting characteristics to the unmarked state, thus presenting a very specific (one might even say “warped”) message that can only be discerned by including what was not included. Their distinctions are thus only visible to second-order observers, who are able to see what was left out of the observation and what was included. The fact that all these first-order observers produced similar observations (tying in with concept of social fact) illustrates the constraining effect of systemic ideologies, to the extent that they influence or determine the autopoiesis of systems. Power seems to be a matter of systemic self-perception in this case. It seems, in other words, that power relations were established in a system’s communication about the environment and in the selective importation of information from the environment, which elevated that system, or society, above another at a self-perceived metaphysical level. Naturalist translation and its extraction of information had no direct, practical effect on indigenous societies. Yet this systemic self-perception or selfreference should not be underestimated and the structural coupling between science function systems and other function systems should not be forgotten. For example, Western religious systems’ interpretation of the imported communication according to their binary code effected further inter-systemic contact with more tangible effects, as is explained in the following chapter. Similarly, the interpretation of naturalist discourse by political systems as a motivation for further colonisation shows the practical effects of such self-perception. Therefore, although

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the direct effect of naturalist communication was non-material, it had important repercussions related to further inter-systemic contact, influencing the nature of further contact. The particular role of translation in these power relations was minimal and translation simply functioned as a small component of scientific discourse. With increased contact between Western and indigenous societies, the role of translation would become more prominent in the establishment and contestation of power relations, however.

3.4

Conclusion

Written translation during the mercantilist era was shown to be rather peculiar in the sense that it provided a means of informational extraction rather than a direct means of communication. In this regard, translation can be seen as having fulfilled a secondary or referential purpose rather than a directly communicative purpose. In other words, in their presentation of language “specimens”, the meaning of translations lay in what they illustrated about these languages and their speakers rather than in the propositional meaning conveyed through the translated words. Meaning lay in the linguistic characteristic of words and the implications thereof with regard to the characterisation of indigenous peoples from the perspective of European ideology and identity. This meaning was conveyed contextually mainly through the framing or presentation of translations. Recognising that translation in this case had a prominent “secondary” communicative function possibly has implications for typical conceptualisations of translation’s operation and its relation to concepts such as equivalence and meaning transference. Translation primarily facilitated communication about rather than communication with. While the “about” function has no doubt been recognised in translation studies in relation to concepts such as manipulation and representation, it is usually accompanied by a more apparent “with” function, which is completely absent in this case. This reordering of translation’s directly communicative and “referential” functions is therefore meaningful. This certainly has significant ideological implications in this case. It serves as an important expression of power relations and

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ideology in the colonial context and exemplifies verticality in colonial translation practices.

Notes 1. Whenever South Africa is referred to before 1910, when the Union of South Africa was established through the merging of four colonial territories, it refers to the area within the present South African borders. 2. This language was originally known as Khoekhoegowab, meaning “Khoekhoe language”, and became known as Nama or Damara during the latter twentieth century. In Namibia, where versions of the language have survived displaying Dutch borrowing (rather than later Afrikaans borrowing), the glossonym “Khoekhoegowab” was reintroduced after independence to refer to the language spoken by three ethnic groupings (Haacke 2015: 59–60). Here, however, Khoekhoe is used to refer to the historic Cape variant. 3. There is so much controversy surrounding the naming of this group that a neutral designation is virtually impossible. Both the terms Bushman and San have been subjected to critique, yet in the absence of an alternative and considering its more common use in literature, San is employed here. 4. The Malay slaves did have a written tradition and did produce written translations, though only in the nineteenth century. This matter is revisited in the section on religious translation in the colonial period.

References Bartnik, R. (2010). Review: Knowledge and colonialism: Eighteenth-century travellers in South Africa—Siegfried Huigen. Werkwinkel, 5 (1), 111–117. Bassnett, S., & Trivedi, H. (2002). Postcolonial translation: Theory and practice. London and New York: Routledge. Botha, M. (2019). Translation and development: (non-)translation and material exclusion in South Africa. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 37 (3), 247–261.

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Coetzee, J. M. (1989). Idleness in South Africa. In N. Armstrong & L. Tennenhouse (Eds.), The violence of representation: Literature and the history of violence (pp. 119–139). London and New York: Routledge. Connell, D. J. (2003). Observing community: An inquiry into the meaning of community based on Luhmann’s general theory of society. Unpublished doctoral Thesis, The University of Guelph. Cuthbertson, G., Dedering, T., Du Bruyn, J., Eidelberg, P., Harris, K., Khandhlela, S., et al. (2010a). Precolonial South Africa. Pretoria: University of South Africa. Cuthbertson, G., Dedering, T., Dooling, W., Du Bruyn, J., Harris, K. Lubbe, H., et al. (2010b). The making of early colonial South Africa. Pretoria: University of South Africa. Den Besten, H. (2010). A badly harvested field: The growth of linguistic knowledge and the Dutch Cape colony until 1796. In S. Huigen, J. L. De Jong, & E. Kolfin (Eds.), The Dutch trading companies as knowledge networks (pp. 267–294). Leiden: Brill. Fleischer, A. (2010). (Ex)changing knowledge and nature at the Cape of Good Hope, circa 1652–1700. In S. Huigen (Ed.), Knowledge and colonialism: 18th century travellers in South Africa (pp. 243–266). Leiden: Brill. Haacke, W. H. G. (2015). Lexical borrowing by Khoekhoegowab from Cape Dutch and Afrikaans. Stellenbosch Papers in Linguistics Plus, 47, 59–74. Harrigan, M. (2008). Veiled encounters: Representing the orient in 17th century French Literature. Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi. Huigen, S. (2009). Knowledge and colonialism: 18th century travellers in South Africa. Leiden: Brill. Keegan, T. J. (1996). Colonial South Africa and the origins of racial order. Cape Town and Johannesburg: David Philip. Kolb, P. (1731). The present state of the Cape of Good Hope containing the natural history of the Cape, or; A particular description of all types of animals in that neighbourhood. London: W. Innys. Kowner, R., & Skott, C. (2015). Early modern European divisions of mankind and East Asians 1500–1750. In R. Kowner & W. Demel (Eds.), Race and racism in modern East Asia (Vol. 2). Brill: Leiden and Boston. Luhmann, N. (1977). Differentiation of society. Canadian Journal of Sociology, 2(1), 29–53. Luhmann, N. (1988). Tautology and paradox in the self-descriptions of modern society. Sociological Theory, 6 (2), 21–37. Marks, S. (1972). Khoisan resistance to the Dutch in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Journal of African History, 13(1), 142–160.

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Olsen, B. (2008). An overview of translation history in South Africa 1652–1860. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of the Witwatersrand. Pratt, M. L. (1992). Imperial eyes: Travel writing and transculturation. London and New York: Routledge. Rangarajan, P. (2014). Translation, exoticism and the long 19th century. New York: Fordham University Press. Schapera, I., & Farrington, B. (2011). The early Cape Hottentots: Olfert Dapper, Willem ten Rhyne and Johannes Gulielmus de Grevenbroek. Den Haag: DBNL. Sparrman, A. (1975). A voyage to the Cape of Good Hope, towards the Antarctic Polar Circle, round the world and to the country of the Hottentots and the Caffres, from the Year 1772–1776, Based on the English editions of 1785–1786 Published by Robinson, London. Cape Town: Van Riebeeck Society. Thompson, L. (2001). A history of South Africa (3rd ed.). New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Valentyn, F. (1973). Description of the Cape of Good Hope and matters concerning it (Vol. 2, R. Raven-Hart, Trans.). Cape Town: Van Riebeeck Society. Ward, K. (2009). Networks of empire: Forced migration in the Dutch East India Company. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Wilson, M. (1982). Hunters and herders. In M. Wilson & L. Thompson (Eds.), A history of South Africa to 1870 (pp. 41–74). Cape Town: David Philip. Wright, J. B. (1977). Hunters, herders and early farmers in South Africa. Theoria, 49, 20–23.

4 Advent—Complex Conversion

The nineteenth century saw the first serious attempts at written translation in South Africa, motivated mainly by missionary endeavours to translate the Bible and other spiritual material into local Bantu languages. Changes in translation trends coincided with political changes as the British assumed control of the Cape and established an additional colony further north up the South African coast while two Dutch republics were established inland, allowing a greater degree of contact between Western and indigenous societies. The relatively backward condition of the British colonies and Dutch republics as well as monolingual language policies and settler ideology meant that translation was not practiced very extensively. It was limited to missionary translation into the Bantu languages, representing the major translation trend, Islamic translation into Malay-Afrikaans, representing a lesser trend, and philologically motivated translation from Khoesan languages undertaken by Wilhelm Bleek, a somewhat exceptional occurrence. In terms of Rangarajan’s schema mentioned in the previous chapter, missionary translation practices can generally be described as possessing a vertical orientation. The production of indigenous folklore recordings in the context of missionary contact (which represents an inter-modal form © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_4

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of translation) might seem to imply a degree of reciprocity. However, even these apparent exchanges of information tended to be governed by the needs of Western society and tended to reflect Western ideology, making a vertical, or at most slanted, designation applicable nonetheless. The folklore recordings produced by missionaries did present a more elaborate picture of indigenous society than was seen during the previous era, however. In this regard, it must also be noted that Western religious ideology displayed a complex relationship with typical colonial ideology. On the one hand, an ideology of Western cultural supremacy remained evident, in which Christianisation was often considered synonymous with civilisation and Westernisation. On the other hand, missionary evangelism often entailed genuine concern for local people and led to their defence against colonial oppression and their empowerment through education and spiritual edification. It also led to the creation of a black intelligentsia which began to foster ideals of black nationalism. It is for this reason that complexity describes conversion in the title of this chapter. With regard to inter-societal interaction and its effect on translation trends, the nineteenth century saw increasing translational contact between Western functionally differentiated society and Bantu segmented society. The religious systems of various Western functionally differentiated societies assumed boundary positions in these interactions, which promoted the spread of functionally differentiated communication structures. In this sense, the process of systematisation witnessed here is similar to what was seen in the branching out of the Dutch economic system, as it too resulted in the spread of functional differentiation. This means that inter-societal contact had direct social repercussions in the case of missionary contact with segmented society. The other two cases of translation that feature in this chapter, Islamic and philological translation, also involved inter-societal contact, but these did not have a similar effect on the development of society due to their smaller scale. They are significant in relation to power and ideology nonetheless as the analyses following the historical contextualisation and societal description below prove.

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Historical Background and Societal Character

The British annexed the Cape during the Napoleonic wars and the status of the Cape as a British colony was officially affirmed somewhat later with the Anglo-Dutch Treaty of 1814 (Davenport 1982: 27). One important result of this change in power was the rupture of white unity, which influenced the spread of functionally differentiated societal structures. The arrival of the so-called 1820 settlers, unemployed Britons granted farms in the Eastern Cape to strengthen the Eastern frontier and increase the English-speaking population, meant a stronger British presence and growing class distinctions between urban British and rural Dutch farmers—by this time known as Boers. Anglicisation efforts and British abolition of the slave trade led to large-scale dissatisfaction among the Boers, who, in search of independence, undertook a mass inland migration, the Great Trek, in 1835. Since the Boers were agrarian and widely dispersed on farms, functionally differentiated social structures did not immediately spread. The first signs of functional differentiation in the interior only occurred around the late 1850s and proliferated after the discovery of gold and diamonds. The inland settlement of the Boers was allowed by social factors related to Bantu society at the time. Bantu segmented society had undergone systemic changes prior to the Great Trek and a process of emergence became evident in the unification of the Zulu people into a large military state under King Shaka Zulu. Shaka expanded his kingdom by raiding other tribes starting around 1817. This led to the incorporation or displacement of other Bantu tribes and became known as the mfecane (crushing or scattering) (Thompson 2001: 80). Shaka’s kingdom represented a break with the clan system, since military rank took the place of inherited clan headship (Thompson 2001: 84). However, segmented communication structures remained dominant outside of Shaka’s kingdom. Warfare among Bantu tribes continued after Shaka’s assassination in 1824 with the reign of Mzilikazi, who killed many people on his trek upward into modern Zimbabwe (Thompson 2001: 86). The dispersal of peoples in the interior left areas of land vacant for the

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Boers to occupy and the Boers met relatively little black resistance. The large-scale warfare among the Bantu peoples ended around 1840. The Boers had hopes of establishing a republic in Natal, but the region was annexed by the British in 1843 in the interest of economic expansion, causing them to move north, establishing the Transvaal Republic in 1852 and the Orange Free State Republic in 1854. In Natal, the strength of the Zulu Kingdom was proven by the fact that the Zulus refused to be employed on the sugar cane plantations established by the British, forcing the British to seek labour in India (Thompson 2001: 99). The discovery of gold and diamonds in the Boer republics significantly influenced societal structures. Diamonds were discovered near Kimberley in 1869, causing the British to promptly annex the area. This was followed by the discovery of gold on the Witwatersrand in 1886. British attempts at laying claim to this gold through the Jameson raid contributed to the initiation of the Anglo-Boer war (Beck 2000: 79), currently known as the South African War (1899–1902), and the period of history under investigation in this chapter ends, as far as the main translation trends are concerned, with the conclusion of the South African War, after which significant societal and ideological changes prompted a different social function of translation. After the discovery of minerals, the South African colonial economy changed quickly from predominantly agricultural to an agricultural-mining economy (ibid.), which paved the way towards industrialisation at the end of the nineteenth century, setting in motion movements towards a greater degree of functional differentiation. In areas of inter-societal contact, the structures of functionally differentiated society spread, but prior to industrialisation, this did not threaten existing segmented structures to a significant degree. The military strength and the strong social structures of Bantu society prevented an easy process of Western subjugation and segmented society was largely able to retain its communicative structures throughout this century. Thus, although land was increasingly coming under Western usufruct, indigenous social structures were not as quickly threatened (Beck 2000: 76). It is within this context that missionary activities took place, as missionaries, like naturalists, often made use of colonial infrastructure. In the nineteenth century, missionaries of diverse European heritage settled

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all over the country. Their evangelism stemmed from spiritual renewal in the mid-1700 s in Britain, New England and Protestant Europe. Spiritual enthusiasm came about in opposition to the complacency that had set in with established religious bodies, which were “riddled […] with ruling-class patronage” (ibid.). This enthusiasm was materially allowed by industrialisation’s development of an upper working class and sociostructural changes due to functional differentiation caused an adaptation of religious structures, which still reflected a hierarchical society. The industrial revolution’s re-classification of classes thus allowed the religious system to be challenged accordingly. Regarding evangelical humanitarianism, Keegan (1996: 76) explains that political and social concerns were also Christian concerns and that evangelicals “extended […] the notion of Christian redemption to include redemption from temporal bondage and deprivation”. British Protestantism had ties to humanitarian movements and the abolition of the slave trade, and unlike Dutch protestants, who saw race as a Godordained social distinction, British evangelicals believed that the Gospel was for all races and people belonging to all social strata. Although the realities of living in South Africa would affect the implementation of this ideology, it had a significant effect on black converts, who interpreted this as motivation for African nationalism. Reasons for prolific Bible translation lie in the ongoing effects of the Reformation. Naudé and Miller-Naudé (2011: 315) describe the period of Bible translation beginning with the Reformation and stretching to the 1960s as a transitional period between the Dark Ages’ ban on vernacular translation and open translation or dynamic-equivalent translation. In this period, a reverence for the form, style and tone of the source text was evident, which was put aside in favour of target norms under the period of so-called open translation with a view to greater accessibility of Biblical messages in differing cultural contexts. In terms of translation, the Reformation thus offered enduring ideologies related to scriptural accessibility. Regarding the link between missionary ideology and imperialism there are two distinct views. One, articulated by Dora Taylor who wrote as Nosipho Majeke in The role of the missionaries in conquest (1952), for example, is that for many settlers, administrators and missionaries, the

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cross and the flag were indistinguishable. This is indeed true in some cases and evidence of cultural and religious conflation abounds. One historical example is the case of the missionary William Shrewsbury of the London Missionary Society, who shared a negative view of the Xhosas among whom he laboured with colonists. Birgitt Olsen (2008: 54) explains: Possibly a significant part of the reason for Shrewsbury’s difficulties in coming to (positive) terms with the Xhosa culture was his profoundly Anglo-centric attitude, which caused him to view Christianity as synonymous with British culture. In Shrewsbury’s view, therefore, all converts had also to adopt British customs, attitudes and values before they could be proper Christians.

Another missionary who held a negative view of the Xhosas in line with colonial sentiments was John Chalmers. According to David Attwell (2005: 37–38), Chalmers “held orthodox settler views of the Xhosa” and “lived out the decline of liberal humanitarianism and the consolidation of racism”. Chalmers went as far as publishing in a local newspaper his views on the certain downfall of the “Kafirs” due to their “indolence, antipathy to education and addiction to European vices” (Attwell 2005: 37). The two cases represented here are rather extreme, and Western ideals were less accentuated, but often nonetheless present, with other missionaries because of their identification with Western culture. The second view represents a reconsideration of the typically negative view of missionaries in post-colonial theory. This view is represented, among others, by David Attwell, who states (2005: 32): “[W]e can now see that this point of view [that missionary work is synonymous with colonialism] is too blunt an instrument: it obscures just how consequential missionary institutions and discourse have been in the history and development of African nationalism itself ”. Lamin Sanneh holds the same view, which Beckner (2015: 79) summarises by stating: “For Sanneh, the contention by critics that Christian mission necessarily interferes with indigenous cultures – a sensitive charge and deserving of careful consideration – is probably overdrawn, simplistic, and in most

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instances, unwarranted”. For Sanneh (1989: 123) “missionary translation was instrumental in the emergence of indigenous resistance to colonialism” because translation into vernacular languages roused nationalist sentiments. Beckner (2015: 79) is of the same opinion, stating: “Rather than being the puppets of Western colonialism and the rapists and destroyers of cultures, missionaries of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries were, more often than not, the bane of colonial powers and the defenders, preservers and revitalizers of ancient cultures”. As yet another supporter of this view, I quote Megan Cole Paustian (2014: 2), who writes: In postcolonial discourse, religious missions are generally described as the benign mask of empire, the enemy of African cultures and freedoms. While that critique has been a necessary response to Western narratives of Africa’s salvation and to the very real role missions have played in colonial violence, it has also obscured their place within the anticolonial imagination. […] while missions were surely implicated in colonialism, they have also been central to Africans’ own narratives of improvement. […]

This view entails a positive or at least more nuanced view not only of missionary ideology towards indigenous societies, but also of the effect of missionary activity on African ideology. The discussion of missionary translation practices to follow shows that both these views possess various degrees of validity in various missionary contexts. The ideological influences on the other two cases of translation feature in the sections devoted to their discussion, since these ideologies are subordinate to this major trend.

4.2

Missionary Translation

The discussion of missionary translation activities in this chapter takes place according to language categories in order to highlight similarities and differences between various missionary contexts. Four Bantu languages, namely Xhosa, Tswana, Southern Sotho and Zulu,1 are

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discussed. These were chosen since they were the first to experience large-scale translation and indicate translation trends that can also be observed with other Bantu languages.2 Khoekhoe translation also took place under missionary motivation, yet this occurred north of the Cape colonial frontier in present Namibia and are therefore not mentioned here. The languages discussed provide enough examples to inform the sociological interpretation of translation practices. Along the same lines, the information provided for each language is not exhaustive, but rather reflects the main characteristics of translation with the view to illustrating general trends.

Xhosa Translation Xhosa was the first South African language into which extensive written translation took place. Xhosa translation began with Johannes Theodorus van der Kemp of the London Missionary Society (LMS) whose attempt closely resembled the work of European explorers, consisting of a few pages of word lists categorised, as in Linnaean custom, according to themes, with some grammatical discussion and recorded as part of his journal. However, Rachel Gilmour (2006: 54) points out that unlike the word lists of explorers, a communicative intention is preeminent in Van der Kemp’s translations. Yet, this communicative element was still expressive of unequal power relations. Gilmour explains that a teacher/student relationship was established in phrases such as “I desire to be taught”, “I’ll teach you” and “Do you like to learn?”, recorded by Van der Kemp in Xhosa (ibid.). However, his attempt at representing the Xhosa language at the same time confirmed the structural stability of the Xhosa language, which was deemed barbaric by colonists, and validated its ability to convey scriptural truths (Gilmour 2006: 56). Van der Kemp’s translation work thus both elevated his own position above that of his intended converts and simultaneously elevated the status of the Xhosa language to one that could bear the Word of God. John Bennie of the Glasgow Missionary Society, who came to South Africa in 1821, played an important role in reducing the Xhosa language to writing. Among his translational products were some hymns, a catechism, the Lord’s prayer, the ten commandments, a creed and several

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books of the Bible, the latter translated with the help of William Shrewsbury, mentioned earlier as the epitome of a settler-missionary (Olsen 2008: 36–38). Bennie did not succeed in producing a full-length Bible translation into Xhosa, but his work laid the linguistic foundations for further translation. The first complete Bible translation into Xhosa was overseen by John Whittle Appleyard of the Wesleyan Missionary Society in 1859 with the help of various other missionaries (Olsen 2008: 45). His Bible translation was published as one edition only in 1865 and was rejected by his fellow missionary translators. The reason was Appleyard’s strained Xhosa idiom and use of the English authorised version of the Bible (Doke 1958: 86–87). Since Biblical translations produced in the missionary period were generally characterised by a large degree of faithfulness to the source manuscripts, it easy to see why Appleyard’s practice of relay translation would be frowned upon. A committee was set up in 1869 to commence work on a new translation, in which Appleyard took part (Olsen 2008: 45). Methodist missionaries were also active in the production of grammars, and among the most notable linguists were William Shaw, William Binnington Boyce and Theophilus Shepstone. Rachel Gilmour’s observations regarding the ideological importance of these grammars can also be applied to translation practices. Gilmour (2006: 70) points out that missionary grammars reflected the conflict-fraught nature of the colonial boundary with Xhosa territory. Waves of violent wars affected the initial liberal humanitarianism of Methodist settlers and the Xhosas came to be seen as an exceedingly violent people (Gilmour 2006: 79). In Gilmour’s opinion, language-learning offered a solution to instability on the colonial boundary. Within a post-Enlightenment paradigm, the world was divisible into “discrete, analysable categories” (which relates to discussions in the previous chapter) and linguistics sought to replace disunity and confusion with unity and reason through structuration and organisation (Gilmour 2006: 80). Linguistic systematisation represented a way of changing the unfamiliar enemy into a knowable subject, so to say. The production of translations took the process of producing harmony and dealing with conflict and difference a step further. From Luhmann’s perspective, language acquisition and grammar production

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involved a process of turning hetero-reference into self-reference and of bringing environmental complexity into a marked state through observation. This can be seen as a neutralisation of difference. Translation involved producing outward communicational stimuli in a mode that made it comprehensible within the receiving system and thus involved structural coupling with the receiving system. This facilitated the process of religious (and ideological) conformation, which similarly represented an attempt at neutralising difference and preventing conflict. Expressions of ideology are further highlighted by Gilmour in the translation of short phrases by William Davis in his contribution to Boyce’s grammar of the Kaffir language (1833). These translated phrases indicate a unidirectional communicative stance, as they consist of “religious statements and exhortations, imperatives and directions” and themes such as “wage labour and war or conflict”, indicating an intention to speak to and not with the Xhosas (Gilmour 2006: 93–94). The same trend, which is referred to by Gilmour (2006: 110) as “displacement of the native speaker”, can be seen in Appleyard’s grammar. According to Gilmour, Appleyard’s neglect of conversational or idiomatic language and his focus on Biblical language displaced Xhosa culture and “de-emphasised two-way dialogue in favour of unidirectional communication” (ibid.). This trend is also evident in the exclusively outbound direction of translation and has obvious implications regarding power and ideology. It meant that Western religious systems, in whose interest linguistic and translational communication functioned, exerted their power through message production and that ideological system characteristics resisted message reception as a means of dealing with difference. Thus, although, unlike previously, Xhosa translation did have an express communicative function, that function was directed mainly towards segmented society rather than displaying “back and forth” directionality. In this sense, it can be described as vertical despite being communicational. In her discussion of missionary translation, from which much of the factual information regarding in this chapter is drawn, Birgitt Olsen neglects black translators of Xhosa, only briefly mentioning Tiyo Soga. This is probably because the position of these translators was historically deemed inferior to Western translators and their role has not received

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much scholarly attention. In an attempt to undo this misrecognition, I mention three black translators, starting with the most well-known, Tiyo Soga. Soga was not only the first black translator of written material in South Africa, but is considered to have been the first major black intellectual and proponent of black rights (Bickford-Smith 2011: 74). Soga (born in 1829) received tertiary education in Scotland and became South Africa’s first ordained black Christian minister (Lowe 1995: 34). During a period of illness, he translated John Bunyan’s A pilgrim’s progress into Xhosa. The influence of this translation as one of the most important literary works in an African language has been acknowledged in the presidential tribute accompanying the awarding of the Order of Ikhamanga in Gold3 to Soga in 2006. Soga was assigned to the board for the revision of Appleyard’s Xhosa Bible and was involved with the translation of the gospels (Lowe 1995: 34). His ideological stance was characterised by mixed feelings of association with European values and concern for and affiliation with his fellow Africans (see Attwell 2005). While Soga was able to wield the power of translation as an African, he did so as a partially “translated” African and his translation products therefore did not differ from those of other European missionaries, despite his pioneering for the African cause. William Wellington Gqoba, a contemporary of Soga, was a translator, pastor, prominent intellectual and journalist, having edited the Xhosa newspaper Isigidima samaXhosa, to which he contributed subversive poetry which criticised Western education and discrimination against Africans. Gqoba worked as a teacher and interpreter at Gwali with Soga (Bessant 1995: 221). He also held a position as translator in Kimberley for four years and even taught translation classes at Lovedale College (ibid.). Even though Gqoba did not produce any significant translations (although he did produce well-known poems and essays), he is important as one of the first vocational translators. With Gqoba, as with Soga, African nationalism was thus again voiced by a translator figure. The same can be said of Mpilo Walter Benson Rubusana, whose political contribution was the greatest among the three translators discussed here. Rubusana, with Soga, assisted in the re-translation of Appleyard’s Bible and also translated prayers and other spiritual material at the

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request of several denominations in his area (Ngqongqo 2008: 48). Rubusana was a clergyman, prominent journalist and intellectual (ibid.). He was also the only African ever to be elected onto the Cape Provincial Council (Ngqongqo 2008: 45). Rubusana’s book Zemk’ inkomo magwalandini (1906), a compilation of traditional epic poetry, educational Christian essays and church history, made a significant literary contribution as one of the first records of traditional oral poetry, and its title, which means “defend your heritage”, is an obvious reflection of his ideological orientation, although he, like Soga, displayed mixed sentiments towards European influence. Rubusana embraced modernism, Christianity and Western education on the one hand, but, on the other, took the lead in fighting against racially discriminatory laws and was among the first to be involved in African political organisations. Thus, a trend is evident with the three black translators discussed above. While they accepted the religious and educational aspects of European society, they withstood its oppression of black people. While they themselves underwent a process of “translation”, they were also empowered by education to represent the African cause. With them, Christianity and humanitarianism again went together; however, in this case, it went hand in hand with African nationalism. The tendency for ideas of African nationalism to accompany intersocietal missionary contact stemmed from the generally dominating nature of this contact and was fostered by written translation practices. Vernacular text production through translation led to the entrenchment of group identity and therefore the creation of nationalistic sentiments. Lamin Sanneh (1989: 125) explains: “In their vernacular work, Christian missions helped nurse the sentiments for the national cause, which mother tongues crystallized and incited”. Vernacular translation “solidified” languages, displayed their capacity to possess a written literature and carry the word of God, and embodied a “national spirit”. In addition, Biblical truths such as human creation in the image of God and the equality of the believers were appropriated as fuel for a nationalistic cause (see Attwell 2005: 33). Therefore, “Christianity was a discourse from without, which fuelled emancipatory narratives generated from within Africa” (Cole Paustian 2014: 3), with dominating inter-societal

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interactions in turn stimulating the need for emancipation. The particular context of inter-systemic interaction thus determined the selective appropriation of information and illustrated the resilience of Bantu society in resisting attempts at “translation”. Evidence for this trend is shown in certain responses to translation and evangelism discussed in subsequent sections. The production of communication expressive of developing black nationalism within the structures of functionally differentiated society (the media and political and literary systems) did not mean that there was not resistance to such communication, however. Functionally differentiated society’s resistance to ideologies of black equality is evident in missionary treatment of black translators, who represented a very small proportion of the community of translators and assumed a secondary position in translation work. Gilmour (2006: 61) attributes this to “the transformation of the language’s speakers into Christian subjects who, ‘no longer savages’ [a quotation by missionary Robert Needham Cust], could be accorded the secondary role in the translation and printing of their own sacred texts”. According to Luhmann’s view of power, this entailed a restriction of the ability to produce and control communication based on the prevalence of (perhaps subliminal rather than outwardly promoted) ideologies of racial hierarchy. As has been mentioned, missionary translation into Xhosa was onedirectional and directed outward from religious systems and no examples of missionary translation from Xhosa could be found. Settler-historian George McCall Theal’s recordings of Xhosa folklore in English could be considered inter-semiotic translations of Xhosa oral literature into a written English format, however, as could missionary recordings of folklore in other missionary contexts. Whether Theal made use of an interpreter or of English-speaking informants, who would have fulfilled the translation role, is unknown. Theal’s collections are an important early contribution to Xhosa folklore (along with Rubusana’s writings), yet are steeped in supremacist colonial ideology, to which his defence of slavery attests. These early recordings of Xhosa folklore resemble the ethnographical writings of the previous era, and a similar framing of folklore translations can be seen in the recordings produced by missionary

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translators in other languages. Like grammar productions, these translations/recordings involved turning hetero-reference into self-reference, yet they simultaneously drew a distinction between the system and its environment as was the case with naturalist translations. This is particularly evident in the forewords and annotations which framed folklore translations and characterised their utterance. As an example, Theal remarks in the foreword to his folklore collection: “It is with a view of letting the people we have chosen to call Kaffirs describe themselves in their own words, that these stories have been collected and printed” (Opland 2000: 134). This clearly reflects a form of “othering” and the assumption of an elevated position based on race and culture. From this overview of Xhosa translation during the missionary period, it is obvious that complex ideologies and power relations were at work in the production of translated communication. Similarities are evident in translation trends in other languages in the discussions to follow.

Tswana Translation Like Xhosa translation, Tswana translation evolved out of an initial period in which simple vocabularies were produced, in this case by travellers. The first of these was published in Martin Lichtenstein’s 1812 journal which contained about 270 Tswana words. Similarly, Henry Salt recorded a short list of “Mutshuana” words in A voyage to Abyssinia (1814), John Campbell listed 80 “Bootchuana” words in an 1816 publication and William Burchell included vocabulary lists in his Travels in the interior of South Africa (1822). The first serious attempts at written Tswana translation were those of James Read of the LMS. Read was the first to be intimately involved with the Tswana community. He fought for the rights of non-Europeans and even married a Coloured4 woman, which attracted the scorn of many colonists. Read produced a word list, short catechism and spelling book of which the latter two were published, but not really used (Volz 2008: 115). Read also translated the Lord’s prayer, which was published in the second volume of Campbell’s Travels in South Africa (1822).

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By far the most famed missionary translator of Tswana was Robert Moffat, whose 1857 Tswana Bible translation, printed in one volume in 1872, preceded Appleyard’s Xhosa translation as the first complete Bible in an indigenous South African language. Moffat, of the LMS, went to Kuruman to minister to the Tswanas in 1825 (Olsen 2008: 38). He had no linguistic training and learnt Tswana by means of immersion (ibid.). Translating the Bible took 29 years of labour amid unfavourable conditions and it was completed with great care and linguistic sensitivity (ibid.). He also translated a catechism, the Lord’s prayer, some hymns of the Reformation, John Bunyan’s A pilgrim’s progress and various tracts into Tswana (Olsen 2008: 99–102). In addition, he printed educational materials to be used in schools. His Biblical translations seemed to be well received. Olsen (2008: 41) explains Moffat’s surprise at the detail with which illiterate converts were able to retell the parables and accounts from the gospel of Luke after a public reading of the Tswana text. The Tswanas’ acceptance of Moffat was possibly partly a result of his action to help them ward off attacks by the Ndebeles, with whose chief Moffat became befriended (ibid.). Moffat produced no translations from Tswana, expressing that it would be “neither instructive nor edifying” to describe their culture (Olsen 2008: 23). One can deduce that for Moffat, as for Appleyard and Davis, the Tswana language was primarily a conduit for scriptural truths and its relation to the Tswana culture was not to be emphasised. Translation into Tswana was also done by Wesleyan missionaries and those of the Paris Evangelical Missionary Society (PEMS). The European missions translating into Tswana were involved in several arguments related to linguistic boundaries and orthographic standardisation. Problems arose among missionaries regarding whether the various dialects of Tswana should be standardised into a singular form or whether regional differences should be reflected. Choices for either reflected individual needs. Volz (2008: 117) explains: While the LMS attempted to standardize written Setswana among all the groups with which it worked, European missions working with other communities and agendas preferred their own systems of writing. Nevertheless, different people were all still seen as Batswana, reflecting

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European assumptions about the categorization of people into races and cultural groups. […]

Thus, the power of language “creation” and standardisation lay to a large extent in the hands of missionary translators and was reflective of their own agendas, rather than the needs of the Tswana people. Segmented society’s lack of structures to deal with written communication was perhaps part of the reason that it did not exert opposition in this case. Since written communication took place within the structures of functionally differentiated societies, their “needs” determined the nature of linguistic production. In another expression of social power, the retention of translational control by Western missionaries was evident in the de-emphasis of and hidden nature of the work of black translators. Two cases illustrate this. The first is the case of John Mokotedi Serian, to which Volz (2008) refers. Serian accompanied Moffat to London to help with the editing of the New Testament and to serve the Moffat family. En route back to South Africa, however, Serian refused to serve the Moffats, feeling that his role in the translation work had not been properly acknowledged (Volz 2008: 119). Serian was subsequently suspended from the LMS (ibid.). The acceptance of fame and visibility at the expense of indigenous assistants is implied in this case. The second case is that of Gabriel Lepile David. In a similar instance of misrecognition, Gabriel David’s “name does not appear in any of the general histories of South Africa, or in any accounts of its literature” (Willian 2012: 4) in spite of his status as presumably the first translator of Shakespeare on the continent. Nevertheless, Brian Willian’s thorough investigation provides a portrait of this unknown Tswana translator who was also a member of the new black intelligentsia. According to Willian (ibid.), David was a third generation Christian who received training at the so-called Kaffir Institution, an Anglican training facility in Grahamstown, after which he assumed a position as catechist at the St Patrick’s mission in Bloemfontein. He would eventually become the first ordained black Anglican priest. Willian (2012: 5) explains that his work at St Patrick’s entailed a large amount of translation and interpreting in the church context and that his translation of Shakespeare was done

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mainly for literary instruction. No record of his translations remains, and it is only thanks to a comment by Sol Plaatje in a book edited by T. D. Mweli Skota that we know that David translated Shakespeare’s Twelfth night in around 1880. From other sources, it is also known that his pupils at St Patrick’s performed Shakespeare’s plays on a number of occasions, apparently both in English and in Tswana. Robert Mullins, the principal of the Kaffir Institution, is said by Willian (2012: 7) to have “attached a high priority to practising translation, and in particular to developing his students’ facility in translating from English into Xhosa and vice versa”, going against the English-only mission instruction policy of Sir George Grey. In one record, it is stated that students practised translating Tiyo Soga’s Xhosa translation of A pilgrim’s progress back into English and apparently did so very well (Willian 2012: 8). It must be here that David practiced translation and was exposed to Shakespeare, as Shakespeare’s works formed part of the English syllabus as part of the civilising mission (ibid.). There is no evidence that David was involved in nationalistic or revolutionary movements and cultural “translation” seems to have taken place with him to a large degree. In this sense he differs from the black translators of Xhosa and his fellow Tswana translator, Serian. Nevertheless, resistant narratives which tie in with nationalistic ideas are evident in the reaction of some Tswanas to cultural imperialism, which involved dissociating the Christian message from the Western culture which accompanied its spread. Volz (2008: 123) explains: As Tswana evangelists drew the ‘word of God’ out from books, they also dissociated that word from Europeans. As one evangelist preached to fellow Batswana after the arrival of a new shipment of New Testaments, ‘You said that the Teachers talked to the book, and made the book say what they wished. Here is the book, and it can talk where there are no Teachers.’

Volz (2008: 120) states that “Tswana Christians did not passively receive whatever the missionaries produced but actively participated in giving the message meaning and relevance, subverting presumed European control over its dissemination and use”. This process of giving

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meaning to messages dovetails with Luhmann’s inferential view of communication and relates to both understanding and acceptance. At the stage of understanding one can perhaps describe this process as involving the divorcing of communication from utterance (the latter in the sense of the entire ideological context that framed communicational presentation rather than the translational “rendition” per se). This conscious practice of producing a specific reading of the text was a display of non-acceptance of the presented utterance in favour of acceptance of the latent (“original”) textual meaning. Active message interpretation had various manifestations. In some cases, it entailed comparing the actions of missionaries with the (inferred rather than transferred) content of the Bible as described above and for others it involved an oralisation of the Bible to make it accessible to illiterate or semi-literate people and more suited to the Tswana oral culture. Oralisation can be seen as effecting structural coupling, making messages stemming from functionally differentiated society compatible with the communicative structures of segmented society. Although it was enabling in this sense, it was also “subversive” towards Western society in the sense that it entailed rejection of the presented communicational forms. Yet others went to the extent of merging Christian teachings with existing Tswana beliefs. This process may have been inadvertently facilitated by missionaries’ adoption of existing terminology for concepts of God, for example, and Tswana preachers’ use of Tswana folklore in preaching. From the perspective of social systems theory (SST), this was a display of segmented society’s selective operation in its response to the communicative stimuli from functionally differentiated society. In line with its own ideological characteristics, it imported what it deemed religiously concordant and rejected what it deemed incompatible, displaying its operational closure. Therefore, scrutiny, modal domestication and even cultural annexation of the Christian message all demonstrated communicative resistance and displayed a converse exercise of power in the communicative exchanges between Western societies and Bantu society. Translation from Tswana was undertaken only in the twentieth century and was not associated with missionary translators, but with the

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Tswana writer, Sol Plaatjie. Therefore, translation in the Tswana context, as in the Xhosa context, was decidedly one-directional.

Southern Sotho Translation Southern Sotho and Tswana were at one point seen as dialects of the same language and the PEMS, which also produced some Tswana translations, was more famously involved with translation into Southern Sotho, with the Swiss missionary Eugène Casalis being the most prominent figure. Casalis along with Thomas Arbousset, another prominent translator, arrived in Basutoland as part of a PEMS mission in 1833 upon the invitation of the powerful King Moshoeshoe (Beckner 2015: 74). They formed a base station at Morija, and quickly commenced the work of producing a written form of Southern Sotho in order to translate the scriptures (ibid.). Casalis, together with Emile Rolland, started work on the translation of the Bible in 1836, and the first New Testament in Southern Sotho was published in 1855. The entire Bible was completed in 1878 and was published in one volume in 1881 with the translation work being done by eight missionaries of the PEMS. Besides scriptural translations, translations of the usual tracts, hymnals, catechisms and sermons were also produced, to a large extent by Thomas Arbousset and Josef Ludorf (Olsen 2008: 103–106). In this regard, the form of inter-societal translational communication differed little from the trend described previously and the selection of information and means of presentation were clearly constrained by evangelical motivations and the communicative modes typical within functionally differentiated society. Translations into French of Southern Sotho native literature such as songs, riddles and legends were also undertaken, mainly by Casalis and Arbousset, and in this regard some divergence from the trends observed thus far can be seen. Translations from Southern Sotho were published in Casalis’s Études sur la langue Sechuana (1841) and Arbousset’s Relation d’un voyage d’exploration au nord -est de la colonie du Cap de BonneEspérance (1842). The third section of Casalis’s book is dedicated to Southern Sotho (oral) literature in French translation and is provided with commentary notes. This is considered by Alain Ricard (1995: 129)

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to be one of the first attempts in French at African literary criticism. Ricard (1995: 130) praises these translated works for their charming retention of spontaneity, which, in his opinion, few texts translated from African languages during that time have achieved. This retention of the original textual feeling is important, as it indicates Casalis’s desire to preserve the aesthetic of the original texts rather than to impose Western principles of acceptability. In this regard, Casalis’s translation work is unique. In another article, Ricard (2016: 49) again praises the PEMS’s translation efforts, stating: Missionary work was based on reciprocal translations: the Bible was translated into Sesotho; Sesotho praise poems were translated into French. That was a very original practice which presupposed a positive attitude towards African oral poetry, most uncommon in the mid-nineteenth century.

Benjamin Beckner (2015), echoing Ricard’s view, identifies reciprocity in Casalis and Arbousset’s translation work and mission approach in general. He refers to their approach as mission-by-translation, applying a paradigm conceived by Lamin Sanneh. Sanneh recognises two possibilities in mission work, which can be linked to the horizontal and vertical translation paradigms explained earlier. Mission-by-translation involves recognising aspects of the recipient culture and not imposing cultural standards, and is therefore likely to promote horizontal translation, whereas mission-by-diffusion is characterised by cultural imperialism and the requirement of cultural conversion, and is therefore associated with vertical translation practices. Beckner (2015: 80) explains: “It has been well documented that Casalis and Arbousset rejected key ideological, attitudinal, and behavioural tendencies often associated with mission-by diffusion, namely: racial and cultural supremacy, European ethnocentrism, and the imperialism characteristic of the European colonization of Africa”. By respecting native culture, translating the Bible into the local vernacular and not imposing the learning of French, Beckner argues, Casalis and Arbousset practised mission-by-translation and were able to instil a sense of national pride in the Sotho people.

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Whereas ideas of nationalism and black consciousness were inadvertent results of inter-systemic missionary contact in most cases, the relationship between missionary contact and nationalism in the case of the Sotho people was more determined and Casalis is often seen as having played a fundamental role in the establishment of the nation of Lesotho. However, his dream of a nationwide denomination could be argued to represent the motivation and this promotion of nationalism could be viewed in a similar light to language standardisation processes in this regard. Furthermore, Casalis too expressed views of traditional African culture as uncivilised (praising the introduction of square houses in place of huts, for example) and could not entirely escape the influence of Western colonial ideals. Although Casalis’s practice of translation can be considered atypical, it did not necessarily represent a significant difference from the other cases observed in relation to nationalism at least, since nationalism tended to accompany missionary contact whether it was purposefully fostered or an inadvertent effect. A more favourable approach to indigenous literature can also be seen in certain cases of Zulu translation, discussed below, but these also did not challenge existing power relations in a significant way.

Zulu Translation Missionary translation work among the Zulu people was largely conducted by American missionaries of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM), who commenced their work in 1835. Despite several obstacles, missionaries established four mission stations within a short time and produced the first Zulu book, Incuadi yokuqala yabafundayo (The first book for readers) in 1837 (Masubelele 2007: 88). It contained spelling and history lessons and Zulu translations of sections of Genesis and two psalms. With regard to Bible translation, the first complete product was the translation of the gospel of Matthew by George Champion, completed in 1848 (Masubelele 2007: 114). In addition to ongoing Bible translation, a hymnal, tracts, catechisms and scripture extracts were translated (Olsen 2008: 118–121). The first complete New Testament appeared in 1865, while the first

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complete Bible was published in 1883. Much of the Biblical translation work was undertaken by Newton Adams and Daniel Lindley; however, a panel of about 20 translators was involved (Masubelele 2007: 83). The typicality of this scenario is therefore obvious. Folklore translation also occurred from Zulu. Lewis Grout, who was responsible for translating some indigenous literature into English in his book The isizulu (1859), stated that his publication served “to give at once some notion of their genius and of their degradation” (Gilmour 2006: 138). Grout was a top acknowledger of the purity of the Zulu language, but at the same time considered the situation of the Zulus to be savage and ruined (ibid.). Gilmour (2006: 142) explains the motive for and conditions allowing translation from Zulu in this case as follows: […] the underlying purpose of studying the Zulu language and Zulu culture was to reveal the dire need of Zulu-speakers for both Christianity and ‘civilization’ […]. At the same time, however, Grout assumed a confident position to engage with, interpret, and even admire aspects of Zulu language and culture, without being in any way affected or contaminated. […]

Religious ideological conditioning is also evident in the translations from Zulu produced by Henry Callaway. Callaway was a British missionary who had settled in 1858 near the Umkomazi River and had there commenced a study of the Zulus, producing various books on their religion and customs. He translated various Zulu fables into English, in addition to translating various books of the Bible and a prayer book into Zulu (Masubelele 2007: 81). The translations of Zulu tales were published next to their Zulu counterparts in two columns, and footnotes were included to explain cultural phenomena. The fact that the English sections are longer than the Zulu source texts (even with Zulu being usually more protracted) indicates that some explanation or paraphrase probably occurred within the translated text. Three books by Callaway covering the subjects of divination, literature, history and ancestral worship, published between 1885 and 1869, contain translation from Zulu. His motive for translation was primarily to understand the “native mind” in order to direct Christian evangelism. He explains

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(as quoted in Opland 2000: 135): “We cannot reach any people without knowing their minds and mode of thought”. Translation was therefore clearly conditioned by Western religious systems and functioned in their favour, for which reason it cannot be considered entirely reciprocal. The idealistic nature of the concept of reciprocity therefore begins to become apparent when considering such scenarios and I would like to digress briefly to consider this matter. In A Change of tongue (2003), Antjie Krog, a prominent South African poet and activist, argues that translation must take place multi-directionally and must involve exchange in order to avoid the “epistemic violence and cross-cultural coercion” (Strauss 2006: 180) that results from unidirectional translation. This clearly relates to ideas about horizontality versus verticality and is an understandable deduction, but some cases of translation in this chapter show that bidirectional translation does not necessarily result in a lack of “epistemic violence and cross-cultural coercion” (on the extreme end of possible power dynamics). The implication is that truly reciprocal translation involving mutual and unbiased knowledge sharing between systems (in this case) displaying ideologically diverse characteristics and asymmetrical power dynamics is somewhat unlikely. Therefore, more often than not, even bidirectional inter-systemic translation will indicate power relations in some way or another. Also implied is that terms such as reciprocity, mutuality and horizontality should be approached with some consideration of the complexity surrounding cultural exchanges and these terms should perhaps rather be treated as references to direction and orientation (which may or may not correlate with power relations), rather than absolute reflections of power. The case of John William Colenso differs somewhat from the abovementioned two cases, but has similar implications regarding reciprocity. Colenso was a prolific translator and important political figure, though he was also very controversial as far as his religious views are concerned, having been led to doubt certain Biblical truths as a result of questions from a Zulu. He settled in Natal as the first bishop of the Church of England in 1855 and produced within a very short period a Zulu grammar, five Zulu readers, a dictionary, and translations of some books of the Old Testament, the entire New Testament and Bunyan’s A pilgrim’s progress (Winckler 1964: 9). Colenso took the mission-by-translation

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approach to an extreme, as he believed in “meeting the heathen half way” and not “uprooting altogether their old religion, scoffing at all the things which they hold most sacred” (Gilmour 2006: 144). Yet, even Colenso’s approach to cultural acceptance, however atypical, is seen by Gilmour to have fitted into a desire to maintain a stable colonial presence, and to have reflected approaches taken in colonial governance of indigenous peoples, which allowed native peoples some cultural freedom in a period of gradual change (Gilmour 2006: 146). Nevertheless, his efforts towards bidirectional communication are worth noting. In Three native accounts (1860), a book containing three accounts by Zulus of a trip to Mpande’s court, which were translated into English and used for learning Zulu, Colenso did not impose fixed communicative structures, but “allowed” communication. This was incidentally also his approach in writing grammars, which were based on “real” conversational Zulu and not one-directional, culturally-stripped Zulu, as was the case with Methodist Xhosa grammarians (Gilmour 2006: 144). Although Colenso’s approach was extreme in that he went so far in “meeting the heathen half way” that he started doubting the Bible, it was clearly not unusual for missionaries to the Zulus to translate from Zulu, and in this matter, Gilmour differentiates Zulu translation from Xhosa translation. Instead of displacing native speakers through cultural negation, she believes, Zulu culture was refashioned “into media for social and political organisation” and “debated, analysed, and – at least in theory – appropriated” (Gilmour 2006: 128). Gilmour relates this difference to the less threatening position of the Zulus than the Xhosas towards missionaries. Their more subdued position therefore allowed their culture to be treated without much sense of danger. This incidentally shows that regional differences in translation practices were stimulated by differing contexts of inter-societal contact and these political, physical, etc. stimuli therefore effected differences in the behaviour of the translational function of religious systems. Nevertheless, a significant degree of correspondence in translational norms between different missionary contexts remains observable. Even where translation displayed a degree of supposed reciprocity or verticality, the structures

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and status of functionally differentiated society and its local “reproductions” were not challenged and these systems continued to condition communicative practices, sometimes in subtle ways as in Colenso’s case. Mission work among the Zulus did not produce any prominent black Zulu translators, although it did produce social activists and writers, such as John Langalibalele Dube, the first president of the South African Native National Congress (later the African National Congress). Western missionaries to the Zulus, like other missionaries, thus exhibited their social elevation by retaining control of translation activities. They additionally exercised power by elevating or demoting the status of various Zulu dialects, as was the case with Tswana translators who manipulated language boundaries and designations to suit their intentions. Zulu translators uplifted or brushed aside languages by their translation work in favour of linguistic unification for the purposes of evangelism. The Zulu used by the royal family gained prominence not only because of its use by the nobility, but also because of its promotion by missionaries to serve missionary interests, at the expense of dialects such as Tonga and Lala (Gilmour 2006: 121), which were considered corruptions of “pure” Zulu. Thus, Zulu translation trends display many of the same ideological trends and power dynamics that were observed in other cases of missionary translation.

4.3

Philological Translation

As was mentioned in the introduction to this chapter, Khoesan languages did not attract missionary translation within the current borders of South Africa in the period in question. By the nineteenth century, Khoesan numbers had diminished greatly and many Khoesan had been absorbed into other cultures. The remaining communities existed to the north of the Cape colonial boundary in remote and harsh locations. These conditions as well as a nomadic lifestyle and the difficulty of mastering these languages, meant missionary translation was much less productive, by comparison, than in the case of the Bantu languages. Khoesan languages continued to attract scientific interest, however, and though the case that is discussed here, the philologically inspired translation work of Wilhelm

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Bleek and his associates, is somewhat exceptional, it is deserving of brief discussion for its immense scope, immense scope and current popularity. Wilhelm Bleek, who obtained a doctorate in comparative philology and gained fame as an expert in Africana, is considered the greatest African philologist of his time and was the “institutionally sanctioned voice of African philology” (Gilmour 2006: 171). In 1856, after initially accompanying Colenso to Natal as official linguist to help compile a Zulu grammar, Bleek settled in Cape Town, where he worked as the curator of Sir George Grey’s extensive ethnological and philological library. It was in this position that he was able to carry out his research with the help of his sister-in-law, Lucy Lloyd. The two worked mainly in the/Xam language of the San (though Bleek also published translations from Khoekhoe and Zulu). Their translation work differed from the writings of preceding European naturalists mainly because of its detailed long-term devotion to language. While European travellers treated indigenous languages very superficially, the work of Bleek and Lloyd was exceptionally thorough and resulted in a massive accumulation of 11,000 pages of folklore recordings including parallel English translations. During this time, the San people were on the verge of disappearance and Bleek’s motivation for producing translations from the/Xam language was to preserve something of the culture and folklore of this dying race. His motivation for this, in turn, was related to a universalist philological goal of obtaining “a picture of the whole course of human development” (Bleek 1983: 40). Bleek held an evolutionary view according to which languages developed gradually from animalian sounds and showed different degrees of development. To him, the Khoesan were peoples in an undeveloped stage, and studying their “primitive” language, he hoped, would bring insights into universal linguistic and human developments. This clearly reflected the omnipresent ideology of Western supremacy in contact situations with local societies, though this ideology was more subtly expressed than in the naturalist translations discussed before. Bleek’s first published translation from Khoekhoe was Reynard the Fox in South Africa; or Hottentot fables and tales (1864), which was also translated into German. Olsen points out that in the preface, Bleek indicates his attempt to translate in a way that does not “in any way affect the spirit of the fables” (in Olsen 2008: 78–79). Bleek characterises the translation approach as “faithful to the original, though not exactly literal”

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(ibid.). It is interesting, however, that Bleek placed this representation overtly within a Western cultural framework by his allusion to Reynard the Fox (a famous medieval folktale character). Nevertheless, Morris and Linnegar (2004: 84) point out that Bleek’s work made a greater appreciation of the complexity of Khoesan culture possible. In this sense, Bleek’s representation of local peoples was similar to that of Casalis and certain Zulu missionaries. Translation therefore showcased a higher degree of cultural complexity than earlier attempts. Though Bleek published extensively, most of his published work was strictly linguistic in nature and did not consist of translation per se. Bleek and his associates produced thousands of pages of/Xam translation, yet these remained in manuscript form. After Bleek’s death in 1875, Lucy Lloyd continued the collection and translation work with the help of Bleek’s daughter, Dorothea. In 1911, Lloyd published Specimens of Bushman folklore, containing some of Bleek’s translations, and in 1923, Dorothea Bleek published The mantis and his friends. She had intended to publish a small volume of these texts in the original/Xam, though she failed to obtain funding and was hindered by poor health (Olsen 2008: 81). Apart from its extensive scope, greater objectivity and in-depth nature, the translation work of these researchers did not differ very much from naturalist translation in the sense that translation functioned to allow scientific deductions regarding indigenous people which informed communication mainly involving Western science systems. Translation remained mainly an extractive scientific exercise functioning in the interest of Western societies and showing Western ideological conditioning in the choice of information and utterance. The literary quality of translations was secondary to their scientific role. What is interesting about the work of these researchers, however, is the amount of interest it has attracted in recent years as a scarce record of Khoesan cultural heritage, indicating a latent meaning potential that required a different ideological scenario to be realised. The large amount of secondary writing on these authors, the number of reworkings or reprints of their work and the online publication of the manuscripts in Stellenbosch University’s digital Bleek and Lloyd collection in recent years attest to this renewed interest. Current interest is motivated by a very

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different academic ideology than the one governing the original research and is in fact a post-colonial reaction to the original motivation. Yet the utterance of the original translations (namely their faithfulness and extensiveness) facilitated their appropriation within a different ideological climate. This case is therefore expressive of written translation’s possibility to realise different meaning potentials over time in line with Hermans and Tyulenev’s descriptions.

4.4

Islamic Translation

Islamic translation from Arabic into Malay-Afrikaans differed from Christian missionary translation in that it was not a means towards propagation, but served the interests of religious education within the Cape Muslim community, consisting at the time of freed Malay and African slaves. Translation reflected a high degree of reverence for the status of the Koranic source language and tended to facilitate access to the original text rather than replacing it, as was the case with Biblical translation into the Bantu languages. However, from the perspective of SST, these two cases of translation were similar in that translation functioned to bring about conformity between foreign systems and their environment and was outwardly directed. Translations of parts of the Koran and of Islamic religious materials were produced at the Cape into Malay-Afrikaans between the mid-nineteenth century and early twentieth century and, in terms of the current delineation, this period of translation thus stretches into the following era (though this does not affect the chosen delineation, since this case represents a minor translation trend). Before proceeding to discuss this case, some background regarding Afrikaans and its Malay variety is required. The Afrikaans language, a pidgin known initially as Cape Dutch, developed out of Dutch fairly quickly, but it was not written until much later, as it was considered a “kitchen” or bastard language. In fact, from the perspective of its white speakers, it was only considered worth recognition as a written language in the twentieth century. Differences between standard Dutch and the version spoken at the Cape were identified as early as 1685 and by the early nineteenth century, Afrikaans had developed as a unique language

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(Khalema 2016: 102). This language, contrary to the idea formerly promoted in Afrikaner nationalist discourse, was not a “white” language, but had many speakers of African and mixed Afro-Asian descent.5 The Cape Malay community, which falls under the latter category, converted from the use of Malay to Afrikaans around the middle of the nineteenth century (Loimeier 2013: 256) and Malay-Afrikaans refers to the Afrikaans dialect spoken by this group. Arabic-Afrikaans is a term used in association with this dialect to refer to Afrikaans rendered in Arabic script. Islam was introduced to South Africa predominantly through Malay and other Asian slaves and it grew through the inclusion of African slave converts, although propagation was not very deliberate or intensive. Malay slaves at the Cape were generally literate, being able to write Malay in Arabic script. The Arabic language was not familiar to most, however. At the time of the establishment of the first Islamic school, or madrassa, by Tuan Guru in 1793 in Cape Town, Malay was used as the medium of instruction, but towards the middle of the following century, instructional conversion to Afrikaans took place (Loimeier 2013: 256). Both periods of Islamic instruction involved translation from Arabic. Achmat Davids (1991: 4) explains that Tuan Guru wrote texts for instruction in Arabic which were translated into Malay using Arabic script. Similarly, during the period of Afrikaans instruction, in order to access the texts that made up the madrassa syllabus, translation of Arabic scriptural material into Afrikaans was necessary (Dangor 2008: 125). A survey by Muhammed Haron (2001) identified 74 extant Afrikaans texts in Arabic script, all of which appeared between 1856 and 1957, though evidence exists of a text called Hidayat al -Islam, which is believed to have been produced in 1830 already (Van Selms 1951: 16). In addition, there is evidence of so-called koplesboeke (memorisation books), which were produced before 1845 (Davids 1991: 109). Davids (1991: 2) believes that the first acknowledged Malay-Afrikaans publication, Ahmad al-Ishmuni’s Kitab al -qawl al -matin (The book on the firm bond) (1856), also the first book known to have appeared in Afrikaans overall, was a translation by Sheik Abu-Bakr Abdurauf. Perhaps the most famous of the Arabic-Afrikaans texts, the Bayan al -din (Exposition of the religion) (1877) by Abu-Bakr Effendi, the famous Ottoman scholar, was

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neither completely original nor completely translated. Dangor (2008: 129) considers it a paraphrase of the Hanafi madhhab, written for students at the Ottoman Theological School. Dangor (2008: 130) refers to the authors of the 21 Malay-Afrikaans texts mentioned in his article as “translators or transliterators”, with the latter description alluding to the highly literal translation approach in relation to Koranic language, but it is unclear to which extent these texts employed translation or can be considered translations as opposed to original productions. Adriaanus van Selms (1951: 19) discusses ten Malay-Afrikaans works and identifies eight of them as translations, including the Bayan al -din, and the majority of those that could definitely be identified as translations were produced at the beginning of the twentieth century. Some of the texts identified by Van Selms as translations are mentioned below, mainly to point out the type of texts that were translated. Besides Kitab al -qawl al -matin (1856), which contains explanations of the Muslim faith, a translated catechism referred to as Gablomalien (Van Selms 1951: 17) was supposedly also published in 1856. Following these, a translation of Safinat al -najat written by Salim ibn Samir AlHadrami, which deals with Islamic ritual requirements, was published in 1894 (Haron 2001: 8). Tufat al -atfal by Nurud-Din, an Afrikaans translation of an explanation of Arabic pronunciation, followed these and was published in 1900 (Haron 2001: 8–9). The translator, AbdurRahman ibn Muhammad Al-Iraqi, was a prolific writer, having produced ten Arabic-Afrikaans texts between 1898 and 1913 (ibid.). An anonymously translated text called Kitabu-lmufJila’ati was printed in 1903 (Van Selms 1951: 15) which contains children’s guidelines for good manners, specifically towards teachers. In 1909, an Arabic-Afrikaans translation of a tenth-century text on creed called Masa’il abi layth al samarqandi was produced by Abdullah Taha Gamieldien. And, finally, Isma’il Hanief, who produced more than 18 Arabic-Afrikaans texts, translated at least two texts, which appeared in 1928 and 1939, respectively. The first, Muqaddima al -adramiyyah, written by an Egyptian Sheik, deals with ablution and various Islamic rituals, and the second, Malwud al -barzanji, is a Sufi liturgy (Haron 2001: 9). These texts thus deal generally with religious education, including explanations of creeds, rituals, behaviour and the Arabic language. The need for education arose

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from disputes regarding religious matters and a general lack of education among Cape Muslims regarding their religion. This is evident from the preface of Bayan al -din, as Van Selms (1951: 13–14) explains. This was also the reason that the Turkish government sent Abu-Bakr Effendi to the Cape (Van Selms 1951: 14). More intrinsic motivations for this are described shortly in relation to umma. Besides these texts, translations of parts of the Koran were also undertaken starting from 1880 with the translation of the chapter Surah al-Mulk into Afrikaans by Ghatiep Mahmood (Retief 1993). The entire Koran was only published in Afrikaans by 1958, being translated by Armien Baker. The time it took to produce a full-length translation attests to the Koran’s resistance to translation in comparison with Bible translation because of a different view of the source language. This is also evident in the fact that Koranic language in the other types of text produced often accompanied translations in interlinear format. Van Selms (1951: 21) explains (in translation from Afrikaans): The reader’s gaze is meant to move back to the Arabic text from the Afrikaans text at every moment. The translation, one might deduce, may obtain no life of its own.

Furthermore, esteem for the source language and culture promoted a foreignising translation approach, suggested by the reference to transliteration earlier. One catechism which Van Selms studies abounds with examples of loanwords, which in some cases occur in such volume (particularly in describing the characteristics of Allah), “that the purpose of the translation work becomes almost illusory” (ibid.) (again translated from Afrikaans). Thus, Koranic translations can be described as possessing an explanatory, almost auxiliary function in relation to the source text. The question remaining concerns the ideological stimulus: Why would foreign societies, which included Iraq, Egypt and Turkey, be interested in the religious education of Cape Muslims? Sindre Bangstad (2007) explains that the early Islamic population at the Cape was largely isolated from other Islamic communities in the world. Bangstad (2007:

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41) states that “even if the establishment of Islam at the Cape was intimately linked to the ‘globalisation’ integral to European colonialism, early Cape Muslim society was to a great extent on the margins of the Muslim world and in the global imaginaries of Arab Muslims”. He further explains, however, that “this should not blind us to the fact that […] a consciousness of belonging to a transnational and panIslamic umma (nation, community of Muslims) of global reach among Cape Muslims must have long preceded the modern era”. Umma (also ummah) refers to a binding principle that unites Muslims across the world and is similar to other types of international religious solidarity. Stronger connections between the South African Islamic community and the international Islamic community were established around the mid1800s, being enabled by the introduction of steamships (ibid.). Examples of interaction between the Cape Islamic community and foreign Islamic communities cited by Bangstad (2007: 41–42) include evidence of Cape Muslims studying at Al-Azhar in Cairo in the 1870s and the collection of funds by Cape Muslims to aid Turkish Muslims during the Russo-Ottoman war in the same decade. It is not surprising that the period of Arabic-Afrikaans translation coincides with this period of increased contact with the international Muslim community and translation without a doubt facilitated participation in and belonging to this community. Islamic translation thus functioned inter-societally and involved the spreading of religious and educational messages, in this case into what was then already part of functionally differentiated South African society from Middle Eastern and North African societies. The existence of a larger degree of ideological “compatibility” (in the sense that information was intended for an already-existing Muslim community, rather than candidates for conversion or recent converts) means that a smaller degree of coupling needed to be established for communication to be “successful” from the perspective of message producers than in the case of Biblical translation. In other words, general religious compatibility facilitated message transfer. This explains why a highly literal and foreignising translation approach could be accepted. This does not mean that message transfer was completely uncomplicated, however, and disputes did arise due to desires to promote different systems of Islamic law. But there

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was certainly less resistance to messages than in the case of Christian missionary translation and unequal power relations were somewhat less pronounced. Although certain foreign Muslim societies were clearly in a dominant pedagogical position, the outcome of this inter-societal contact arguably led to the empowerment of the Cape Muslim community. Processes of religious “homogenisation” through translation fostered a greater degree of communal belonging, which had potential psychological outcomes for Cape Muslims, who represented a socially marginalised group locally. In addition, this coupling also manifested in mutually assistive actions such as financial support, as has been shown. There were thus psychological and social benefits to the human participants in society, which can be considered a type of social empowerment. As has been discussed, missionary translation also resulted in the empowerment of converts, but the complex relationship between missionary work and colonialism made this process more expressive of power imbalances.

4.5

Conclusion

The serious and prolific practice of written translation in South Africa during the nineteenth century was thus largely attributable to outward communicative exercises by foreign religious systems and mainly involved contact between Western and Bantu societies. The “structural” outcome of this increased contact via translation was the increasing spread of functional differentiation within South Africa, yet the ideological outcomes of translated communication were also significant in relation to subsequent history. The production of written text in African vernaculars was linked to the stimulation of nationalist sentiments, although nationalism was of course in the first place a response to the unequal nature of interactions between Western and local societies within the general colonial context. Bantu society demonstrated comparative resilience in terms of its autopoietic or self-referential mechanisms in comparison with Khoesan society, as was evident in the at times selective response to missionary communication, although Western society remained dominant. In this inter-societal communication, as in the case of Islamic translation, foreign religious systems assumed a boundary

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role by initiating communication, which was enabled by translation. In the case of philological translation, Western science systems provided the motivation for translation as during the previous era of translation. Although translation was much more in-depth and its selective behaviour presented a less biased and more sophisticated view of local peoples, it continued to function in very similar ways, still serving to “enrich” Western science systems through the reduction of environmental complexity and still being undergirded by Western concepts of civility. In all the cases mentioned in this chapter, though translation had an important enabling function in relation to inter-societal communication, it did not yet display centralisation or systemic autonomy and its selective operation as a “semi-permeable membrane” was subsumed directly within the communication of the relevant function systems.

Notes 1. This book follows an Anglicising approach in rendering the names of indigenous languages and peoples, following several university style guides. The names of the Bantu languages are written without the prefixes which are sometimes used, for example “Zulu” instead of “isiZulu” and “Sotho” instead of “Sesotho”. Similarly, peoples are referred to as “Zulus” instead of “amaZulu” and “Sothos” instead of “Basotho”, for example. Please note, however, that certain quotations contain the alternative rendering of these. 2. The entire Bible was only translated into Northern Sotho (Pedi) in 1904, into Tsonga in 1906, into Venda in 1936, into Swati in 1996 and into Ndebele in 2012. 3. This is an award granted to South Africans for various achievements ranging from sport to literature. 4. This term refers to people of mixed race in South Africa and has no derogatory connotations as it does in the American context. 5. In spite of the possibility of considering Afrikaans an African language for this reason and for the distinctly African influences present, it is considered an ex-colonial rather than an African language in this book for the main reason that, in terms of power relations and language statuses, Afrikaans has shown more similarities with English than with the (other) indigenous

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languages. Therefore, the term African languages is used to refer either to the Bantu languages or to the Bantu and Khoesan languages where applicable.

References Attwell, D. (2005). Rewriting modernity: Studies in black South African literary history. Scottsville: University of Kwa-Zulu Natal Press. Bangstad, S. (2007). ISIM dissertations: Global flows, local appropriations: Facets of secularisation and re-Islamization among contemporary Cape Muslims. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Beck, R. B. (2000). History of South Africa. Westport: Greenwood. Beckner, B. (2015). Eugène Casalis and the French mission to Basutoland (1833–1856): A case study of Lamin Sanneh’s mission-by-translation paradigm in nineteenth-century Southern Africa. In J. Molumeli & M. Prum (Eds.), Missionary work in Africa in Eugène Casalis’s time and beyond . Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Bessant, L. L. (1995). Gqoba, William Wellington. In K. Irvine (Ed.), The encyclopaedia Africana dictionary of African biography in 20 Volumes (Volume Three). Algonac: Reference Publications Incorporated. Bickford-Smith, V. (2011). African nationalist or British loyalist? The complicated case of Tiyo Soga. History Workshop Journal, 71(1), 74–97. Bleek, W. H. I. (1983). On the origin of language as a first chapter in a history of the development of humanity. In K. Koerner (Ed.), Linguistics and evolutionary theory: Three essays by August Schleicher, Ernst Haeckel, and Wilhelm Bleek (pp. 31–69). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Cole Paustian, M. (2014). “A real heaven on their own Earth”: Religious missions, African writers, and the anticolonial imagination. Research in African Literatures, 45 (2), 1–24. Dangor, S. E. (2008). Arabic-Afrikaans literature at the Cape. Tydskrif Vir Letterkunde, 45 (1), 123–132. Davenport, T. (1982). The consolidation of a new society: The Cape Colony. In M. Wilson & L. Thompson (Eds.), A history of South Africa to 1870 (pp. 272–311). Cape Town: David Philip. Davids, A. (1991). The Afrikaans of the Cape Muslims from 1815–1915: A sociolinguistic study. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of Natal.

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Doke, C. M. (1958). Scripture translation into Bantu languages. African Studies, 17 (2), 54–61. Gilmour, R. H. (2006). Grammars of colonialism: Representing languages in colonial South Africa. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Haron, M. (2001). The making, preservation and study of South African ajami mss and texts. Sudanic Africa, 12, 1–14. Keegan, T. J. (1996). Colonial South African and the origins of racial order. Cape Town and Johannesburg: David Philip. Khalema, N. E. (2016). Linguicism and nationalism: A post-colonial gaze on the promotion of Afrikaans as a national language in apartheid South Africa. International Journal of Language Studies, 10 (1), 91–110. Loimeier, R. (2013). Muslim societies in Africa: A historical anthropology. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Lowe, C. C. (1995). South Africa. In K. Irvine (Ed.), The encyclopaedia Africana dictionary of African biography (Volume 3). Algonac: Reference Publications Inc. Majeke, N. (1952). The role of the missionaries in conquest. Johannesburg: Society of Young Africa. Masubelele, M.R. (2007). The role of Bible Translation in the development of written Zulu: A corpus-based Study. Unpublished doctoral thesis, University of South Africa. Morris, M., & Linnegar, J. (2004). Every step of the way: The journey to freedom in South Africa. Cape Town: HSRC Press. Naudé, J. A., & Miller-Naudé, C. L. (2011). Colonial and postcolonial encounters with the indigenous: The case of religious translation in Africa. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 29 (3), 313–326. Ngqongqo, S. J. (2008). Mpilo Walter Benson Rubusana. In M. Ndletyana (Ed.), African intellectuals in the 19th century and early 20th century South Africa (pp. 45–55). Cape Town: HSRC Press. Olsen, B. (2008). An overview of translation history in South Africa 1652–1860. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of the Witwatersrand. Opland, J. (2000). Languages of South Africa. In P. France (Ed.), The Oxford guide to literature in English translation (pp. 134–135). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Retief, K. (1993, March 9). Koran se boodskap maklik in Afrikaans oorgedra. Die Burger, p. 6. Ricard, A. (1995). Littératures d’Afrique noire: Des langues aux livres. Paris: CNRS.

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Ricard, A. (2016). Towards silence: Thomas Mofolo, small literatures and poor translation. Tydskrif vir Letterkunde, 53(2), 48–62. Sanneh, L. (1989). Translating the message: The missionary impact on culture. Maryknoll: Orbis Books. Strauss, H. (2006). From Afrikaner to African: Whiteness and the politics of translation in Antjie Krog’s A change of tongue. African Identities, 4 (2), 179– 194. Thompson, L. (2001). A history of South Africa (3rd ed.). New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Van Selms, A. (1951). Arabies-Afrikaansche Studies – ’n tweetalige (Arabies en Afrikaanse) kategismus. Leiden: Noord Hollandsche Uitgewers. Volz, S. C. (2008). Written on our hearts: Tswana Christians and the ‘word of God’ in the mid-nineteenth century. Journal of Religion in Africa, 38(2), 112–140. Willian, B. (2012). Whose Shakespeare? Early black South African engagement with Shakespeare. Shakespeare in Southern Africa, 24, 3–24. Winckler, W. G. (1964). The life and writings of Bishop Colenso. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of South Africa.

5 Establishment—Nationalist Incentive

Three types of nationalism are discussed in relation to translation in this chapter covering the pre-apartheid twentieth century—Afrikaner, Indian and African nationalism. Each of these ideologies arose in reaction to colonialism. However, each was related differently to power dynamics in the emerging functionally differentiated society which increasingly replaced segmented societal structures after the conclusion of the South African War (1899–1902). Afrikaner defeat in this war led to the unification of the entire territory of South Africa, roughly as it exists today, under one government, a British dominion. This, along with industrialisation, perpetuated the spread of functional differentiation. The humiliation of the defeat stimulated Afrikaner nationalism, whose assertion of cultural distinctiveness and self-determination was accompanied by ideas of white racial superiority, which were also characteristic of British rule, as has been shown previously. African and Indian nationalisms therefore arose in reaction to this racially based discrimination. Although African and Indian1 participants in the emerging society suffered similar discrimination, it would take time for a unified, interracial resistance ideology to sprout and emerging resistance ideologies © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_5

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were initially embodied within distinctive cultural frameworks. Within African and Indian nationalisms, respectively, however, ideas of cultural commonality were present that de-emphasised internal linguistic and/or tribal distinctions, with obvious benefits in terms of power consolidation. Although African and Indian nationalisms were distinct, they were associated with the same trend in terms of social power relations—a counteroffensive to white domination. Therefore, nationalism went hand in hand with racial power dynamics in this period. Although functionally differentiated structures increasingly displaced segmented social structures in South Africa, participation in functionally differentiated society was restricted within a secondary, hierarchical societal structure based on race, culture and language. Therefore, although there was now large-scale participation in a “nationally centralised” functionally differentiated society, there was not equal participation in this society and a state of forced participation in functionally differentiated society, but simultaneous exclusion from participation in its privileged sectors existed. The economic system’s distribution of labour roles along racial/ethnical lines in the context of industrialisation expressed enduring colonial ideologies concerning race, culture and social status. In the mining sector, mines and companies were run by a British elite, Afrikaners performed skilled labour and Africans, cheap unskilled labour as an example of this racial division. Language played an important role in enforcing social restrictions and allowing or expressing social privilege. Nene Khalema (2016: 94) explains that in nationalist scenarios “[l]anguage is always given a central role in the ascription and definition of national and/or ethnic identities” and that “the language(s) officially promoted by national movements may serve as instruments for giving the nation its desired shape and identity”. In the case of Afrikaner nationalism, language promotion was very deliberate, and nationalists made specific use of translation to construct the Afrikaans language and identity in a way that exhibited cultural prestige and distinctiveness. The scarcity of translation involving the indigenous languages (particularly initiated by Africans) reflected the cultural marginalisation and economic suppression of blacks by the white government on the one hand. On the other hand, it indicated preferences for English among educated Africans. Some scholars, such as

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Neville Alexander, are critical of the neglect of the African languages by African intellectuals during this time. Alexander (1989: 26) laments that “[t]he black middle class, true to its missionary origins, plumped for English and adopted an elitist and patronising attitude to the languages of the people”. He continues: “Few if any of [the members of the black intelligentsia] had given serious thought to the claims and rights of the African languages spoken in South Africa, beyond the issue of the medium of instruction in primary schools”. However, there were practical and strategic reasons for preferences for English in written discourse. English provided a “neutral” medium for inter-tribal black unification and facilitated communication of resistant messages to oppressors and the international community. Given the preference for English among Africans and the social dynamics that influenced the practice of translation, the cases of resistant translation involving the African languages that are mentioned in this chapter are few and do not display nearly the same degree of determination and sophistication evident in Afrikaner nationalists’ use of translation. Indian nationalism and resistance also employed the medium of English strategically for the reasons mentioned above, although Indian languages were also employed to facilitate communication and recognise a diverse Indian population, although not in a way that promoted language distinctions. The description of nationalism thus far therefore implies its conception as an expression of politicised social cohesion based on ethnicity and cultural commonality. There is therefore relatively little correspondence between nationalisms and the actual geopolitical boundaries of South Africa in this case.

5.1

Historical Background and Societal Character

The historical situation and societal description provided below expand on matters briefly mentioned in the introduction and concern the effect of the mineral revolution and the South African War as well as the characteristics of the emerging South African society from the perspective of social systems theory (SST).

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At the beginning of the previous chapter, the importance of the discovery of minerals on the subsequent development of functionally differentiated society in South Africa was briefly mentioned. When diamonds and gold were originally discovered respectively at Kimberley (1866) and the Witwatersrand (1886), mining was done by individual prospectors. This individual digger phase, as Thompson (2001: 118) calls it, soon gave way to a structured and complex hierarchy in which plots of land, which could no longer be successfully mined by individuals, were bought over by companies, which could afford more sophisticated machinery (ibid.). This created a need for mass manual labour on the one hand and skilled artisanal labour on the other (ibid.). These roles were segregated racially, as has been mentioned, with black people being exploited as underpaid labourers. The ability to exercise such exploitation lay partly in the weakening tribal system (due to internal conflict), increased colonial conquest, and new economic strata established through missionary contact, which threatened tribal leadership (Thompson 2001: 113). Thompson (2001: 111) explains that following the discovery of minerals whites were also conquering African communities that had previously preserved their independence in Southern Africa. Throughout the region, whites were incorporating Africans into a capitalist, white-dominated economy. Many Africans were obliged to pay rent, or to surrender a share of their produce, or to provide labor services for the right to live on land that white people had appropriated. In areas where the land was still in African hands, the white governments were obliging chiefs and headmen to acquiesce in the presence of recruiters of labor for the mines […].

In addition, a shortage of land and the devastation caused by the Rinderpest in the 1890s caused poverty among many of the Bantu peoples (Thompson 2001: 123). The transformation of the South African economy from agrarian to industrial took place exceedingly rapidly, so that by the end of the nineteenth century, South Africa had become a major contributor to the world economy (Thompson 2001: 110). By 1890, the Witwatersrand had been transformed from sparsely populated land to an

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economic hub (Thompson 2001: 114) and by “1899, the [gold mining] industry, in which £60 million had been invested, was producing 27.55 percent of the world’s output of gold, Johannesburg had 75,000 white residents, and the gold-mining companies were employing 100,000 Africans” (Thompson 2001: 120). The boom in the South African mining economy coincided with the almost complete conquest of Bantu society by 1900, as, by this time, “all the indigenous peoples of Southern Africa were incorporated in states under white domination” (Thompson 2001: 122). Discriminatory racial labour division was also evident in the agricultural sphere, and this economic sector needs to be mentioned for its relation to Indian nationalism. British importation of indentured Indian labourers to work on sugar cane plantations started in 1860 and continued until around 1911. This was accompanied by the migration of Indian merchants seeking new markets after the end of a boom in the cotton industry. By 1904, there were about 101,000 Indians in South Africa (Mesthrie 1996: 84). Although Indians have never formed a large percentage of the total South African population, they did form a significant percentage of the population of the Natal province. From an economic perspective, Indians participated in the South African economy at various levels. While the large majority was exploited as cheap labour, as black South Africans were, a small percentage were large capitalists with multinational connections or wealthy wholesalers or retailers (Vahed 2010: 617). Yet, in general, a similar racial division of labour as seen in the mining sector was observable in this case. Returning to the effects of industrialisation, it is not difficult to see how industrialisation facilitated functional differentiation. New singular vocational descriptions such as “miner”, “trader” and “transporter” came to replace plural modes of activity (such as “farmer-trader-hunter”), and the sudden growth of the economic system required the adaptation and development of other social sub-systems to meet the needs created by the formation of very larger towns and cities. Therefore, while practices such as obliging black people to pay rent or yield a portion of produce or provide services for the right to live on land resemble the severe stratification characteristic of Medieval society, capitalist social structures

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subsumed hierarchical distinctions, and stratification can therefore be seen to have existed within a structure of functional differentiation. The major political outcome of the South African War was the establishment in 1910 of the British-controlled Union of South Africa, encompassing the former British colonies and Dutch republics. The British had hoped by this unification to denationalise the Afrikaners, but “the Jameson Raid, coercive diplomacy, military conquest, concentration camps, and bureaucratic reconstruction gave Afrikaner nationalism a powerful stimulus” (Thompson 2001: 145). This state of affairs ties in with the implication in the chapter introduction and the explanation of Eric Hobsbawm (1994: 32) that nationalist movements develop because of marginalisation or (perceived) victimisation, as this requires a group to distinguish itself in order to achieve a sense of group solidarity. For Afrikaners, nationalism became a plight for survival amid British imperialism and English assimilationist policies (Khalema 2016: 100). While capitalism went hand in hand with the consignment of Africans, Indians and other non-whites2 to lower societal strata, Afrikaners were able to exploit capitalism as a means of social development and upward mobility (Adam and Giliomee 1979). Afrikaner power accumulation culminated in the victory of the Afrikaner-led National Party in the 1948 elections, which ushered in an era of Afrikaner dominance under apartheid. The era under investigation concludes with these landmark elections and therefore covers the period of Afrikaner power build-up. In concluding this section, some final comments on ideology and SST are required. Firstly, it is important to note that the relationship between race and ethnicity and the functions of the economic system or other function systems were one that involved a complex form of structural coupling. How can it be explained within SST that people displaying certain racial characteristics (a physical phenomenon) and adhering to certain cultures (psychological/social phenomenon) were permitted or enabled to participate in certain social functions, but not others? To understand this, it is necessary to see the coupling between physical, psychic and social systems. Race, for example, a physical matter, is only important in the structuring of social systems in as far as those systems are conditioned by ideologies regarding race, which are ideas. The relationship between race and ideology and its manifestation in society

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through ideologemes therefore entails coupling between the physical, psychic and social systems. Race is of no social importance apart from its being assigned ideological and, by implication, social importance. This does not mean that it is unimportant for that reason. The reciprocal conditioning exercised by these three types of system means that society’s response to ideologies conditions or affects the human participants in society in very real ways, in this case by limiting or opening or closing communicative possibilities available to humans. Structural coupling in early twentieth-century South Africa thus connected social operations in the economic function system, for example, to perceptions and ideas in the psychic realm and physical manifestations of race in the biological realm (both in the extra-social environment) in a relationship of conditioning. Furthermore, conditioning between systems served to spread the systemic effects of ideology throughout society. The entrenchment of racial stratification in the economic system had important implications for the characteristics of other systems within the capitalist political model, for example, since in this model, the economic system exerts a significant influence on participation in society. The political system’s endorsement of racial distinction was similarly significant. Yet, the effect of this entrenched inequality was an ideological counter-response, expressed within the system in the form of resistance ideologemes. The increasing manifestation of these is illustrated throughout this chapter. Finally, under the influence of ideologies, exclusive language policies also acted as an important barrier to social participation by dictating the employment of certain languages, which were not equally accessible, in certain levels of society. Language therefore represented an important barrier to participation in society and helped to structure communication in relation to racial and cultural phenomena. Under the influence of language policy and the ideologies which gave rise to them, translation practices reflected social power dynamics by sustaining linguistic hegemony by being limited mainly to certain language combinations, for example. In this sense, translation helped to bring about and uphold the form of society described above. Under the influence of subversive ideologies, however, it also sought to breach established hierarchical

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relations by spreading subversive messages, for example, and thus simultaneously challenged the existing social structure. Therefore, translation was used both to enforce and resist social power relations.

5.2

Translation and Afrikaner Nationalism

If the missionary translation period represented the advent of written translation in South Africa, post-South African War translation represented a further developmental stage in which written translation’s use spread from religious contexts to administrative, literary and media contexts. In this period, the political system, under the influence of Afrikaner nationalist ideologies, provided the main stimulation for translation and affected the employment of translation in the media and literary systems through coupling. This broader social employment of translation under the influence of Afrikaner nationalist ideology also led to the development of translation into what may be described as a system and to the development of Afrikaans into a so-called kultuurtaal, or cultural language. This section therefore illustrates the significant influence of Afrikaner nationalism on translation practices. As was indicated in the previous chapter, Cape Dutch developed as a separate language very soon after Dutch settlement. But because Dutch was used for writing and in all official settings, Afrikaans was fairly rarely written. Besides the use of Afrikaans in Cape Malay madrassas, Afrikaans was recorded in newspapers in about 500 cases between 1825 and 1875 (Nienaber and Nienaber 1943: 18). These written records consisted of humoristic contributions by readers and editors to Dutch newspapers for the sake of humour and recreation (ibid.). Afrikaans was not considered a true language by most of its white speakers,3 and it did not claim any rights during this period (ibid.). Despite this fact, Afrikaans translations of some books of the Bible occurred in the late nineteenth century as a result of the work of Afrikaans activists who had taken upon themselves the task of promoting the use of Afrikaans as a written language. In what Nienaber and Nienaber (1943: 27) call “the period of convincing”, this small group of activists called the Genootskap van Regte Afrikaners

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(Association of True Afrikaners), or the G.R.A., promoted the production of Afrikaans literature in addition to producing the first translations of books of the Bible. S. J. Du Toit translated Genesis (1893), Matthew (1895) and Revelation (1898) before the turn of the century and Song of Songs (1905), Psalms (1907), Acts and Mark (both 1908) shortly thereafter (Nienaber and Nienaber 1943: 40). This movement succeeded, by means of experimentation and propaganda, in spreading the socalled Afrikaanse Gedagte (Afrikaans Thought) among many Afrikaners, facilitating the work of subsequent language promoters. After the South African War, efforts to promote Afrikaans proliferated through the endeavours of Dutch newspapers and various language associations which sprang up throughout the country. These associations were eventually united under one academy in 1909, the Suid-Afrikaanse Akademie vir Wetenskap en Kuns (South African Academy for Science and Art) which would standardise orthography and determine grammatical rules. Afrikaans became recognised as a separate language in the very early twentieth century, but by 1915, resistance to an Afrikaans Bible translation still existed. Nevertheless, with Afrikaans coming into use in schools (1914) and being used alongside Dutch in administrative functions, but not in legislation (1918), and with the Dutch churches converting to the use of Afrikaans (1916), the need for an Afrikaans Bible began to be felt and a joint effort by the three major Dutch denominations was made to have the Dutch Bible translated into Afrikaans (Nienaber and Nienaber 1943: 73). Draft translations of the Gospels and Psalms were published in 1922, but they were not well received because of poor language use (Nienaber and Nienaber 1943: 79). Therefore, in 1923 a new attempt was made at translation, this time using Hebrew and Greek source manuscripts rather than the Dutch Statenvertaling. A new trial version of the Gospels and Psalms was published in 1929, this time finding general favour with the public (Nienaber and Nienaber 1943: 80). A few years prior, in 1925, Afrikaans was granted full recognition as an official language, meaning that Afrikaans had been recognised as a written language fully capable of higher administrative and social functions. In 1933, the complete Bible was translated, signalling for some the true establishment of Afrikaans as a higher functional language. Thus, Afrikaans went rapidly from a “kitchen” language to an official language.

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Nene Khalema (2016: 102) explains the effect of the South African War in this regard: After losing to the British in the Anglo-Boer war of 1898–1902, the Dutch settlers resisted British Anglicization and assimilation and adopted the name of Afrikaans for their language. Afrikaans as a name connected the Dutch settlers to the land of South Africa and unlike the British, home for them was Africa, not Europe. With the invention of Afrikaans as their language of identity, the Dutch settlers claimed authority and legitimacy to the land and often reminisced back to their earlier struggles with the British to justify their plight for nationhood.

Khalema uses the very strong word invention with regard to the deliberate development of Afrikaans. Anne-Marie Beukes (2007: 245) similarly refers to Afrikaans as a construct, and a product of careful cultivation. The invention of the name Afrikaans (“which succeeded the term Afrikaner”) signified the deliberate identification with a unique African identity. This term also justified claims to the land and signified a process of “translation” from Dutch (foreign) to Afrikaans (indigenous). In this process, written interlingual translation played an important role. Biblical translation into Afrikaans had a similar function to Biblical translation into the Bantu languages, as it legitimised the language through linguistic standardisation and exhibited its worth as one capable of carrying the Word of God. But other forms of translation, such as literary translation, were also used. Translations of plays took place from at least five European languages into Afrikaans in the early period of Afrikaans development, among which were those undertaken by Gustav Preller. Preller founded an Afrikaans-Dutch theatre association with the goal of promoting Afrikaans as a literary language (as part of the objectives of the Afrikaanse Taalgenootskap or Afrikaans Language Association). David Conradie was also responsible for Afrikaans translations of plays from European languages under the auspices of the association Onze Taal (Our Language). Mendelssohn’s A South African Bibliography (1979), which includes publications until 1925, cites 11 drama translations from European languages into Afrikaans compared to 39 original drama productions in Afrikaans. This means that roughly

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20% of the total production of Afrikaans plays until 1925 consisted of translated work. Similarly, the bibliography cites 23 fiction translations from European languages (Dutch, English, French, German and even Norwegian and Spanish) into Afrikaans, compared to 99 original Afrikaans fiction productions, again totalling around 20% of the total fiction production. However, original production of Afrikaans poetry greatly outweighed the proportion of translated poetry, which could be attributed to the difficulty of translating poetry or to the popularity of Afrikaans poetry. Here, compared to the more than 100 original Afrikaans publications dedicated to poetry, only four translated publications from European languages existed until 1925. Moreover, four publications of poetic translations from Afrikaans into English and German are cited, perhaps indicating the sparking of interest in the literary value of Afrikaans. With regard to short stories, Mendelssohn cites seven translations into Afrikaans from the usual European languages (and one from Russian) and 55 original Afrikaans publications. Two cases of short story translation into English from Afrikaans are also recorded. This indicates that Afrikaans relied on translation as a means of literary production in its initial stages to a fair degree. The fact that literature was imported from prominent Western European languages (mainly Dutch, German and French) is of course not accidental. Besides expressing the cultural heritage of Afrikaners, translations of works from “intellectually esteemed” European cultures added legitimacy and literary value to the body of works being produced. Although radio translation falls outside the scope of the current book, it is worth mentioning that starting from 1936, radio became a complementary medium through which Afrikaans was promoted as a cultural language, and translation was again employed in this process. By 1939, the South African Broadcasting Commission (SABC) introduced a separate Afrikaans channel (the so-called B channel), which relied on translation for the production of its programmes. Teer-Tomaselli (2015: 68) explains: The translation department remained very busy in these early years. Besides the regular workflow of news bulletins, talks and scripts, ‘numerous scripts from the original Dutch, English and German texts were translated and adapted’.

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Teer-Tomaselli (2015: 71) also mentions that the SABC had lists of Afrikaans translations of songs, dramas, operas, operettas and musical comedies. In this regard, the SABC’s contribution to the development of Afrikaner culture was acknowledged as having “undoubtedly made a worthy contribution to Afrikaans culture” (ibid.). The fact that literary and musical communication was employed in the cultural elevation of Afrikaans relates to the specific function of such communication for society, which involves an aesthetic construction of social identity, in the sense of creating a national narrative. The communication of both the mass media and literary systems served as an important reflector of systemic ideology in this regard. Although the proportion of translated work mentioned in the summary of literary productions was significant, the entire body of Afrikaans literature and of Afrikaans writing in general was still very small in the early twentieth century, and translation was therefore not extensively practised. This would change post-1925, however, when translation started playing a crucial role in the process of elevating Afrikaans in administrative contexts. This is pointed out by Anne-Marie Beukes (2007), who investigates translation’s role in elevating the status and functional abilities of Afrikaans in the public service and ties this in with the elevation of translators and other language practitioners to heroes under nationalistic motivation. In this context, vocational designations such as translator and language practitioner came to be used for the first time. Up until this point, translation had not really been practised professionally and the development of translation as a vocation reflects its development and systematisation in the context of Afrikaans translation. Beukes (2007: 253) explains that once Afrikaans had been acknowledged as an official language, translation bureaus were established to handle large-scale translation activities in government administration, which had previously been dominated by English. She notes that the period of translation which started around 1925 has even been labelled “ons taal se Eeu van Vertaling” (our language’s Century of Translation) (ibid.). Initial translations attracted public outcry because of their poor quality, however, prompting the introduction of a language development programme and the establishment of a Translation Bureau in 1930 (ibid.). Furthermore, to combat lingering issues relating to

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terminological standardisation, various language offices and terminology committees were established from around 1932 (Beukes 2007: 254). These were very successful at developing the language’s technical and scientific vocabulary and were granted generous government funding (ibid.). In addition, the first Translators’ Conference was held at the Union Buildings in 1933 (Beukes 2007: 253) and reflection had started taking place on the practice of translation in academic literature (see Posthumus 1936). Translation thus played a crucial developmental role in the establishment of Afrikaans as a language of higher function, but its role was considered purely transitional by nationalists, who saw its function as assisting linguistic and terminological advancement until Afrikaans was able to hold its own. In this regard, translation ranked lower than original writing. However, it would take until the 1960s for the primary use of Afrikaans in the administrative sphere to surpass that of English, and during the period under investigation, translation was still required to elevate the Afrikaans language. The above explanation of Afrikaans translation practices has important implications for the description of translation within the framework of functional differentiation. Through deliberate efforts to promote the use of Afrikaans, the role of translation was elevated and a process of systematisation put into motion, which would later intensify under the apartheid dispensation. Translational communication began to cluster and underwent a degree of systematisation so that it can be described as having taken place within a primitive version of a translation function system. The development of translation as a function system was a reflection of the increased functional differentiation that resulted from industrialisation and political developments. Translational communication clustered in response to the increasing complexity of society and to language policy in the political system, which was in turn stimulated by nationalist ideologies. The recognition of Afrikaans as an official language necessitated the professionalisation of translation because of the increased need for large amounts of high-quality translation (with quality incidentally being an ideological prerequisite). It also necessitated comparatively large numbers of full-time vocational translators for the first time and stimulated the production of language bodies. Although

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many of these bodies were not dedicated solely to translation, they did have components that dealt with translation and prescribed norms for the practice of translation. This caused a degree of development to the point that Anne-Marie Beukes (2007: 145) could talk of the “translation industry” in reference to this period. It is doubtful whether this term could be applied to previous translation practices. Were it not for the deliberate employment of translation under the stimulation of Afrikaner nationalist ideologies, translation would not have undergone the same degree of systematisation at this point in history and Afrikaner nationalist ideology thus had a direct influence on the systematisation of translation. The systematisation of translational communication entailed the differentiation of translation as an autonomous communicative practice worthy of structures (organisations, bodies) and norms that could regulate its specific social function. It entailed the clustering of communication around the function of interlingual mediation versus nonmediation. Translation also began to reflect upon its own operation to produce second-order observations which were fed back into the system. The first Translators Conference in 1933 and the beginning of academic writing reflecting on South African translation are examples of such second-order observation. Even the promotion of the view of translators as language heroes during this period represented a form of second-order observation, by which the system defined itself by reflecting upon its own operation. In its inter-societal operation, written translation assumed a boundary position around the literary system and was influenced by the communicative needs of that system, filtering and selecting information in its function as a semi-permeable membrane based upon the constraints provided by the commissioning system. Afrikaner nationalist ideologies triggered the literary system to translate European literature (rather than local African literature, for example) into Afrikaans (rather than any other languages). The selection of source and target languages, and of typical European literary genres for that matter, should be seen as ideologemes of Afrikaner nationalism therefore. The literary system had incorporated nationalist ideas into its systemic operation according to the binary code of aesthetic/non-aesthetic and this conditioned the boundary functioning of translation. The semi-permeability of the literary system

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was only generally discussed in terms of language selection and is elaborated upon in further discussions of Afrikaans literary importation in the next chapter. In terms of its internal operation, translation’s function under the constraint of language policy was to reproduce written information within systems across an internal language barrier. It carved out a domain for Afrikaans in the higher levels of South African society and operated on the created boundary. Translation therefore still fulfilled a boundary function, but within function systems. Translation’s selective functioning is apparent, since the type of information selected for translation—being formal, official, technical, specialised, etc.—displayed social prestige and in that sense served as an ideologeme of Afrikaner nationalism. In addition, it had a practical connection to power relations by allowing Afrikaans speaking participants in society a greater degree of access to higher social functions linguistically. Prolific translation in higher societal functions between only certain languages therefore established the authority and status of those languages, while the lack of translation involving other local languages excluded those languages from this status. Furthermore, access to these prestigious languages was limited through educational restrictions and coupling with the educational system therefore helped enforce the social barrier laid in place by language policy and enforced by translation and text production practices. This matter relates to the concept of social exclusion, whose conceptualisation has been considered problematic within social systemic discourse. Sina Farzin’s (2008: 192) explanation of this is provided in translation from German below: […] an important characteristic of debates concerning exclusion is seen in the tendency to neglect the analysis of social processes of exclusion and to settle instead for a diffuse “impressionism of sociological explanation” (Opitz 2008: 190) of the excluded ones themselves. The metaphorical subject positions of the “superfluous” (Bude/Willisch 2007) or also the “invisible” (Luhmann 1997: 631) and the description of the social spaces which are inhabited by them have, in the form of “quasiphenomenologies” (Hark 2005: 137), supposedly covered up the lack of theoretical depth of field and systematic elaboration of the concept of exclusion through the suggestive power of their descriptiveness.

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Farzin (2008: 195) points out the problem with systemically defining exclusion by explaining that it is “hardly sensible” to speak about a societal “outside” (i.e. something social outside society) although the concept of exclusion suggests some form of “inside” and “outside”. Within Luhmann’s view of functionally differentiated society, it is indeed very difficult to conceptualise the matter of exclusion. This is overcome in this case by acknowledging the simultaneous existence of stratification within the structure of functional differentiation and by pointing out the existence of linguistic barriers within South African society. This allows everything social to remain part of society, while identifying systemic levels within society from which exclusion can take place. Although language is but one of many barriers to inclusion, it is surely an exceptionally important one, as subsequent discussions prove.

5.3

Translation and Indian Nationalism

The discussion of translation in relation to Indian nationalism begins the examination of resistant translation in this chapter. Throughout the twentieth century, the resistance press, which was born in the previous century, grew in response to increased oppression and one of the first resistant newspapers was Indian Opinion, established by the legendary social activist Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi in 1903. This paper would play an important role in exposing injustices towards the large community of South African Indians who had been brought from India. Dissident journalism and resistant translation in the context of Indian Opinion took place within the ideological framework of satyagraha, a form of non-violent or civil resistance practised and endorsed by Gandhi, and an Indian equivalent of black resistance. This Sanskrit word is composed of the words satya (truth) and agraha (firmness or force) and implies peaceful insistence upon truth and justice (Gandhi 1968: 105). The word originated through a competition announced in Indian Opinion in 1906, in which a prize was offered to the reader who could coin the best designation of the struggle which Indian Opinion represented (ibid.). Gandhi (1968: 106) interestingly explained that the desire for a designation arose out of a need for translation:

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I then used the term ‘passive resistance’ in describing [our movement]. I did not quite understand the implications of ‘passive resistance’ as I called it. I only knew some new principle had to come into being. As the struggle advanced, the phrase ‘passive resistance’ gave rise to confusion and it appeared shameful to permit this great struggle to be known only by an English name. Again, that foreign phrase could hardly pass as the current coin among the community.

Therefore, the term satyagraha embodies an ideological domestication (or Indianisation) and tailoring of the concept of passive resistance. Through translation, the concept “changed hue”, so to say, and came to represent the Indian struggle specifically, although it also had universal appeal, inspiring Martin Luther King Jr., for example. Some background on Indian Opinion is given below before examining the role of translation within the ideology of satyagraha. Gandhi had come to South Africa in 1893 as a young lawyer and, after facing intense racial discrimination, he initiated the founding of the Natal Indian Congress (NIC) to “safeguard Indian interests and to acquaint Englishmen in South Africa and England and the people and Government of India with the deteriorating condition of Indians in South Africa” (Anand 2006: 1). The NIC had felt the need for a newspaper to voice South African Indians’ grievances, but earlier attempts were short-lived; therefore, Gandhi established the weekly Indian Opinion in Durban in 1903 (ibid.). In 1904, the newspaper’s facilities were moved to Phoenix estate, a large farm outside Durban. Some of the newspaper staff, including Gandhi, moved there to live a simple rural life while working on the newspaper. This move reflected the radical anti-commercial stance of the newspaper staff, who were driven by a humanitarian cause to dedicate themselves to the paper, even when it did not offer them financial stability. The newspaper shared many of the objectives of the NIC and, like the African resistance press, possessed nationalistic motivations. Anand (ibid.) explains that Gandhi’s first editorial “is notable for its simple language and cogent expression, clear objectives and ethical appeal, and nationalistic fervour tempered with courtesy and harmony”. The newspaper had a dual audience; firstly, and obviously, South African Indians and, secondly, white officials and

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prominent figures both in South Africa and Britain, to whom 500 free copies were distributed weekly by the NIC and the British Indian Association (Anand 2006: 3). The newspaper published news and editorials on discriminatory law cases involving Indians, important news in India, and “social, moral and intellectual subjects” (ibid.). Gandhi referred to the newspaper, which lasted until 1961, when its printing ceased because of financial difficulties, as a “most useful and potent weapon in our struggle” (Gandhi 1968: 117). The newspaper was initially published with English, Gujarati, Hindi and Tamil sections, although the Hindi and Tamil sections were abandoned in 1906 owing to a lack of proficient editors (Anand 2006: 9). These languages were re-introduced in December 1913 during a mass satyagraha movement as a tribute to Hindi and Tamil speaking Indians who participated in the movement, some of whom lost their lives, but were abandoned again in April of the following year (ibid.). The initial and later temporary employment of several Indian languages functioned to endorse a common Indian nationalism as opposed to emphasising linguistic or cultural differences. This is evidenced in the declaration in Indian Opinion, during its first year, that: “We are not, and ought not to be, Tamils or Calcutta men, and Mohamedans or Hindus, Brahmans or Banyas, but simply and solely British Indians” (Dhupelia-Mesthrie 2004: 52). Content was shared between the various sections of the newspaper by means of translation, although the content did not overlap entirely and Gujarati sections were often longer than English sections. There was also a different motivation for writing the English and Gujarati sections. While the Gujarati section and, when applicable, the Hindi and Tamil sections, were intended for the Indian community, the English section was mainly intended for the Europeans to whom the paper was strategically distributed as part of its resistant effort. Gandhi wrote to the South African Indian Fund in 1915 that “[t]he English portion is mainly of an educative character for the European public amongst whom it is distributed gratis” (Gandhi 1958: 108). Bhabani Bhattacharya (1969: 45) further indicates that while Gandhi’s “articles in Gujarati (meant for the less educated section of the Indian community) were mainly informative, those in English had sometimes a wider range of themes and

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included abstract subjects and commentaries on international affairs”. This indicates that the English section may have been directed both at white authorities and at the more educated Indian community. The production of both English and Indian language articles often entailed translation. Initially, the quality of Indian language translation was poor and, according to Mansukhlal Hiralal Nazar, the first editor, the translators were “not very clever” and some of the translations were even shocking (Dhupelia-Mesthrie 2004: 512). This problem seems to have been resolved when the paper switched to English and Gujarati only. In 1906, the responsibility of translating articles was left to Gandhi’s capable nephew Chaganlal Gandhi, who also managed the Gujarati section of the newspaper (Anand 2006: 8). Informational selection for translation was very purposeful and reflected the influence of satyagraha through the importation of both Eastern and Western philosophical concepts. Indian Opinion’s role in importing Eastern cultural concepts is evident in the publication of, for example, articles called “The Oriental law of truth” (including quotations from Upanishads, Bhagvatapurana, Mahabharata and Manusmriti) and “Lectures on religion” (on Hinduism) and book reviews on The way of the Buddha and Persian mystics as part of the Wisdom of the East series, for example (Anand 2006: 11). Similarly, philosophical or political material was often translated from English into Gujarati. Anand (2006: 11) explains: “Gandhiji4 used Indian Opinion for propagating the writings of Tolstoy, Henry David Thoreau, John Ruskin and other great thinkers who had influenced his own evolution and the struggle that he was carrying on for the basic rights of the Indians in South Africa”. Gandhi’s earliest promotion of Leo Tolstoy, whom he revered most, was in a 1905 article in Gujarati in which he gave Tolstoy’s biography and a summary of his teachings (ibid.). In an article in 1907, Gandhi summarised Thoreau’s essay “On the Duty of Civil Disobedience” in Gujarati and in the same year, he summarised Ethical religion by William Macintyre Salter in Gujarati (ibid.). In 1908, a paraphrase of Ruskin’s Unto this last was serialised in Gujarati (ibid.). In 1909, he published his “Preface to Leo Tolstoy’s ‘A letter to a Hindoo’” both in English and in Gujarati and “A letter

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to a Hindu” itself was published in English and in Gujarati translation the following year (ibid.). The importation of these philosophies had a politically empowering function by promoting political resistance and obviously supported the spirit of satyagraha. Furthermore, Uma Dhupelia-Mesthrie (2003: 3) states that South African laws that negatively affected Indians were translated into Gujarati and calls were issued to defy them. Translation from English into Gujarati therefore facilitated resistance both ideologically and practically.5 Translation’s strategic and selective operation and its functioning to import information which opposed political structures and represented the aspirations of the socially oppressed is therefore obvious. In this case, translation operated in service of the media sub-system and assumed a boundary position in relation to other societies. This case of translation preceded the development of a South African translation system. Its informal nature and its lack of association with specialised roles or bodies links it to previous translation practices which were more directly part of the communication of systems. Translation into English facilitated the spread of resistant messages to the South African political system in an attempt to irritate the system to alter its policies. These messages were thus aimed at influencing upper-level political communication. Translation into the Indian languages, by contrast, was intended to prompt lower-level political action and political consciousness in the psychic realm. In terms of adapting its policies, the political system would remain largely unresponsive to this stimulation for a very long time, however, and it would take prolonged irritation from both within South African society and the environment to stimulate a positive political response. Yet, the acceptance of resistant messages by Indian South Africans no doubt contributed to the recurrence of such messages in the media and political systems. Therefore, although these messages did not evoke a satisfactory response from the political system initially, they arguably had a lasting effect on the characterisation of the media and political systems by establishing patterns for resistant communication and by stimulating psychic systems in ways that would ensure the continued production of resistant messages.

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Translation and African Nationalism

African nationalism was not articulated in written translation practices in quite the same way as was described above, but was expressed in subtler ways given the preference for English and the severe limitation of communicative expression by Africans within the established racial hierarchy. The operation of both oppressive and resistant forces is observable in the cases of translation involving the African languages which are described in this section, which fall within the category of literary translation. Only two case studies are presented since translation involving the African languages in genres other than Biblical translation (which has already been discussed) was extremely scarce in the first half of the twentieth century. This echoes the stagnation of African language development after the initial impetus provided by Biblical translation. The African languages were not developed into languages of higher function in the same way that Afrikaans was. Development of the African languages only took place more intensively once they began to be used under Bantu education and Radio Bantu and in homeland administration after the instatement of apartheid, and even then, development was limited and motivated by oppressive intentions. Concerning African language literary translation, Jeff Opland (2000: 135) points out that a steady stream of folklore translations into English occurred during the twentieth century. These were translations of oral literature such as praise-poetry and folk tales. Opland categorises these publications under the “oral” category, since they represent translated recordings of oral rather than written literature. Examples of such translations include Minnie Postma’s Afrikaans versions of Southern Sotho literature in Legendes uit Basoetoland (1942—with further editions during apartheid and an English version), Legendes uit die misrook (1950) and Litsomo (1964); Phyllis Savory’s various English publications of literature from several indigenous languages; and E.M. Baumbach and C.T.D. Marivate’s Xironga folk tales (1973) (Ntuli and Swanepoel 1993: 17). Ntuli and Swanepoel (1993: 17) explain that the cases of translation from the indigenous languages into English or Afrikaans “did contribute to the limited stock, but they seem to have remained on the periphery of the national heritage”.

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Regarding written literature in the Bantu languages, Opland (ibid.) laments: “There has been no systematic translation of works of written literature from any of the vernacular languages, most of the classics remain untranslated, and chance or missionary content seems to play as much of a role in determining suitability for translation as literary or historical significance”. Opland (ibid.) continues: “Indeed, only one author, Thomas Mofolo, is represented by more than one work, and only Mofolo, again, has had any work translated more than once”. The work of Thomas Mofolo is therefore notable and is discussed as the first case study, while the second case study concerns Sol Plaatje. However, translations of other black authors are mentioned first to sketch the background against which these case studies are discussed. According to Opland’s survey, translated black authors of prose in the entire twentieth century (besides Mofolo and Plaatje) include John Dube, whose Zulu novel Insila ka Tshaka (1930) was translated as Jeqe, the Bodyservant of King Tshaka (1951), T.N. Maumela, whose Venda novel Mafangambiti (1956) was translated as Mafangambiti: The Story of a Bull (1985) and Enoch Guma, whose Xhosa novel U -Nomalizo (1918) was translated as The Things of This Life Are Sheer Vanity (1928). A.C. Jordan’s Xhosa novel Ingqumbo yeminyana (1940), the most acclaimed Xhosa novel, was translated into English as The Wrath of the Ancestors (1980) and into Afrikaans as Toorn van die voorvaders (1995). The situation with poetry translation is similar, with only Zulu poetry by B.W. Vilikazi and Xhosa poetry by J.J.R. Jolobe and another collected poetry work in Xhosa being translated. This meagre list (which extends beyond the half-century in question) is indicative of the African literary situation during the twentieth century in several ways. Firstly, it echoes the general dearth of literature in the African languages due to a lack of education and economic pressures faced by the black population. Preferences to write in English also played a role. In addition, the absence of translated literature shows a disinterest in African literature on the side of white-owned publishing houses and the reading public. This disinterest is further expressed in the long time lapses between the publication of originals and translations, which indicates no sense of urgency to translate these books and perhaps a belated appreciation of their worth. Thirdly, black literary publication, regardless

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of its content, represented a bold contestation of social realities and was therefore purposefully disregarded by those who wished to maintain the status quo. Alain Ricard (2016: 59) explains: Black South African writers, especially novelists, were neither known nor translated […] and remained marginalised in South Africa during colonial times (until 1994) not because they came from a country that was too exotic, too different, and thus incomprehensible […]. The simple fact of their achievements was a denunciation of apartheid which resounded too loudly in Africa. It was echoing all sorts of discriminations, inequalities and vexations of colonial times. That precisely was the reason for their marginality: they were too vocal and too precise in their nuanced criticism of the colonial system. These natives did not stay in their place.

Black authors, and in this case particularly Mofolo and Plaatje, stepped out of the position they were expected to assume in racially stratified society and voiced an “African opinion” (I deliberately draw this comparison), which was not welcomed within the oppressive ideological climate. The translations of Mofolo’s work express the way in which black literature suffered misunderstanding, selective understanding or plain neglect. Plaatje’s translation and publication history similarly exhibit oppressive publication trends, but additionally express resistant elements. According to Alain Ricard (2016: 48), Mofolo “has always been largely ignored, or even misrepresented, by historians of literature”. This was evidently true of other literary agents too, as Ricard’s overview of Mofolo’s literature in translation proves. Ricard (2016: 48) critiques the translations of Mofolo’s writing as representing superficial readings. Mofolo’s Southern Sotho novel Chaka (1925) about the Zulu King Shaka was translated in 1931 under the sponsorship of the International African Institute and his Moeti oa Bochabela (1907) was translated in 1934 by the Society for the Promotion of Christian Literature. To Ricard’s mind, both were produced as institutional products with their own agenda (Ricard 2016: 50). Chaka was promoted through translation as a contribution to history and a unique piece of literature (being a historical romance), while Moeti oa Bochabela was likened to Bunyan’s A Pilgrim’s Progress and its Christian aspects emphasised (Ricard 2016: 50–51). Besides these English translations, Mofolo was also translated

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into French (keeping in mind the French-Sotho missionary connection). Victor Ellenberger’s 1940 French translation of Chaka, which was published by the prestigious publisher Gallimard, apparently had a purer literary motivation. Ricard (2016: 51) explains: “Ellenberger’s agenda was to read Mofolo as a writer, not as a first-class informant, an epic poet, or a missionary wunderkind”. Mofolo’s novel Pitseng (1910) was also translated into French in 1935 by a colleague of Ellenberger, R. Leenhardt, but it was never published. Ellenberger could similarly not find a publisher for his French translation of Moeti oa Bochabela, which was undertaken a few years later (ibid.). Even the French translation of Chaka, despite being accepted by an acclaimed publisher, was doomed to failure, and was removed from shelves after Gallimard likened Chaka to Hitler in a publicity leaflet in 1939 (Ricard 2016: 53). The literary injustice to which Mofolo’s work was subjected in translation is related mainly to the fact that institutional agendas governed the production and reception of his English translations. In addition, there was a tendency to sever Chaka and Moeti oa Bochabela from one another, designating them to two distinct genres and seeing nationalistic and Christian themes as incompatible. Ricard (2016: 52) explains: Moeti was labelled a Christian apologia and Chaka a historical novel, and the apparent exaltation of the syncretic power of Christianity in the former novel seemed far removed from the African Nationalism of the latter. To us, today, these two positions do not seem antagonistic, or rather we can figure out ways of reconciling them, but […] in colonial Africa, these two historical views seemed incompatible.

With regard to Chaka, Ricard (2016: 52) points out that through “ostentatious institutional praise and strategic confinement”, the latter referring to a deliberate lack of translation, “the poetic and original quality of Mofolo’s language was lost, the historical and epic character of Chaka emphasised, and some of the most unpleasant aspects of his kingship forgotten or put aside in favour of a heroic, positive version of the character”.

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Regarding Moeti oa Bochabela, Ricard explains that rather than being a purely Christian novel, the book instead represents a merging of traditional Sotho beliefs and Christianity, which was de-emphasised or deliberately altered in the English translation. He cites as an example the fact that bale (initiates) is translated simply as girls in English and Ea molimo o nko e metsi (god with a wet nose), simply as cow (Ricard 2016: 56). The French translation, however, does retain these elements of Southern Sotho culture, which is not surprising, because of the differing motivation of the French translator. The selective ideological framing of the English translations, plus the fact that two French translations of Mofolo’s work were refused publication indicates the power of the publication industry and literary institutions of the time in conditioning communication and in selectively accentuating through translation the aspects of the novels that matched reigning ideologies. In this context, translation could be employed by the literary system as a means of selective representation or it could be refused as a means of containment. Translation’s selective filtering only allowed expression within the literary system what was ideologically compatible. With regard to power relations, this reflected an effort to maintain the racial stratification characteristic of South African society by denying African literature a place in the literary system, or allowing it in only on certain grounds. Mofolo’s achievement as an author was thus neutralised, contained and controlled by the conditioning of the literary system. These same power relations seen with Mofolo relegated Plaatje to a realm of “relative oblivion” (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 9) from which he was only recently freed in what Schalkwyk and Lapula refer to as the “Plaatje revival” (ibid.). Plaatje shares many similarities with the black translators mentioned in the previous chapter (although differing somewhat from his fellow Tswana Shakespeare translator Gabriel Lepile David) and is therefore considered an adherent to “old black liberalism” (Parsons 1998). Plaatje grew up with German missionaries, for whom his parents worked, nearby Kimberley. He received additional private education when his superior intellectual abilities were noticed and was also taught music (Van Wyk 2003: 7). From Kimberley, Plaatje moved

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to Mafeking (now known as Mahikeng) where he played an important role as interpreter to the Magistrate during the Great Siege of Mafeking from 1899 to 1900 (Parsons 1998). Plaatje was the editor of two Tswana language newspapers in Mahikeng and Kimberley, respectively. For his literary contribution, he is regarded by Parsons (1998) “as a South African literary pioneer, as a not insignificant political actor in his time, and as a cogent commentator on his times”. Plaatje’s translation work includes translations of Tswana proverbs into English in Sechuana proverbs (1916), English translations of Tswana text in A Sechuana reader in international phonetic orthography: with English translations (1916), Tswana translations of five and a half of Shakespeare’s plays (of which only two were published) and a translation of some of Shakespeare’s sayings. The two published Shakespeare plays represent the first remaining translations of Shakespeare’s work into an African vernacular (as David’s earlier translation of Twelfth night was not preserved) and Plaatje himself has even been called the Shakespeare of South African literature (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 9). Like most of the black translators discussed in the previous chapter, Plaatje was not only an important literary figure, but also a significant political figure, having been the first secretary of the SANNC and an ardent advocate of black enfranchisement. One might wonder, however, why an advocate of African nationalism would be interested in translating Shakespeare, the icon of British cultural supremacy, and how such translation could be subversive in any way. In answer to this, Brian Willian (2012: 3) points out that Shakespeare “could speak very directly and positively to the experience of black South Africans”. As an example of this, he refers to engagements with Shakespeare in the famous Drum magazine of the 1950s, which “enrich[ed] [journalists’] understanding and descriptions of township cultures, aware of the parallels between Shakespeare’s Elizabethan world and what they now saw around them” (ibid.). He also refers to the circulation of the collected works of Shakespeare on Robben Island the 1980s, in which prisoners marked their favourite verses (ibid.). Schalkwyk and Lapula (2000) provide a very thorough and nuanced discussion of Plaatje’s relationship with Shakespeare and of the subversive elements in his translation. Pertinent sections of their article are highlighted briefly to explain

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this relationship (Schalkwyk and Lapula tie Plaatje’s translation work to power struggles so well that little additional explanation or elaboration is required). What is interesting about their findings is the way these connect with the concept of selective appropriation as an exercise of power and the previous discussions of African engagement with and reception of Biblical texts should be kept in mind when approaching this summary. Schalkwyk and Lapula’s arguments can be summarised in the statement that “Plaatje found in Shakespeare a powerful cultural and political vehicle that he could turn to his own purposes” (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 13). Plaatje’s interest in Shakespeare was therefore not a sign of his embrace of Western culture. Schalkwyk and Lapula (2000: 16) refer in this regard to Plaatje’s contribution to I. Gollancz’s A Book of Homage to Shakespeare, in which “one is struck by the way in which Plaatje treats Shakespeare as material to be used and transformed, to be ‘translated’ in the way that Bottom is, rather than as an idol to be worshipped” (Schalkwyk and Lapula). Plaatje’s transformation of Shakespeare is evident in his domestication of Shakespeare’s name into William Tshikinya-Chaka (Shake the Sword). Plaatje’s adaptation of Shakespeare’s biography to reflect his own in the preface to his translation of Comedy of Errors, Diposho-phosho is further evidence of transformation. Schalkwyk and Lapula (2000: 20) provide the following explanation for this: The [fanciful] story that Plaatje tells of Shakespeare is of a village boy who moves to the great city to make good, bringing renown to the rural community of his birth, meeting and influencing influential people from all walks of life, including royalty. But, Plaatje reassures his Tswana reader, ‘throughout his lifetime, the educated, accomplished writer never turned his back on his parents and the little village that had given him life.’

This is not only the biography of Tshikinya-Chaka (the appropriated, indigenised Shakespeare) rather than the British Shakespeare, but clear relations to Plaatje’s own life are evident in this biography. Plaatje’s comparison of Shakespeare to Solomon in the biography is interpreted by Schalkwyk and Lapula as another conscious reference to himself (ibid.).

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The implication is that Plaatje saw certain correlations between Shakespeare’s life and his own, which could be exploited by him in order to advance his own nationalistic ideologies. Plaatje’s loose translation approach in his translation of Julius Caesar is also telling of his appropriation of Shakespeare. This translation contained many omissions and additions, changes in speaker and so forth, and was therefore far from a faithful or literal translation. These changes were seen as mistakes and the result of carelessness by the white scholars who would publish his book posthumously. Schalkwyk and Lapula argue that this was certainly not the case, given Plaatje’s excellent command of English and the existence of evidence of his extremely meticulous approach to court interpreting. In fact, the publication of this translation did great injustice to Plaatje’s intentions. The cover page bears witness to this, as it recognises Plaatje as the translator, but includes an explanation that the book has been “corrected and arranged by G.P. Lestrade” (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 22). The book also contains a most unflattering justification for these “corrections” in which Lestrade states that in the original version, Plaatje had “diminished what Shakespeare had written” and “committed outright errors of translation possibly because he did not understand English very well or else he was not paying close attention to what he was doing” (in Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 23). This was complemented by an equally insulting preface by the general editor, C.M. Doke, in which he highlights Plaatje’s supposed carelessness and the lack of agreement with the source text as shortcomings of the original translation (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 22). In addition, the book was published in a Tswana orthography which Plaatje had strongly opposed, Lestrade having been chairman of the Committee on Orthography from which Plaatje had been expelled (ibid.). The name Tshikinya-Chaka was also replaced with Shakespeare, signalling the reversal of Plaatje’s approach. Therefore, by re-enthroning the source text, so to say, Plaatje’s specific appropriation of the text was undone and his interpretation undermined and dismissed as a somewhat unprofessional and careless translation attempt by an ignorant native. Therefore, just as Mofolo’s aesthetic and subversive nationalistic intentions had been neutralised by the intentions of publishers, so too Plaatje had been pacified.

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Now, how can Plaatje’s translation work be linked to nationalism? Plaatje’s translations of Shakespeare had a similar effect to Biblical translation in the indigenous languages, since it served as a display of the expressive and literary potential of the Tswana language and proved its comparability with English in this case. If Shakespeare, the epitome of Western cultural prestige, could be translated into Tswana, then surely Tswana’s expressive potential matched that of English. In this light, Plaatje’s translations should be seen as part of a greater struggle for the recognition and valuation of African culture against the oppression and marginalisation of Western culture. Plaatje’s translations of Tswana proverbs into English were also part of this struggle. Through the publication and translation of Tswana proverbs, Plaatje sought to display African culture and preserve it amid the pervasive spread of Western culture and ideals (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 18). Alongside English translations of Tswana proverbs, Plaatje also provided Latin, Dutch, French, German or English equivalents in an attempt to prove to Europeans that Tswana was on par with these European languages (Schalkwyk and Lapula 2000: 15–16). Plaatje, like Mofolo’s translators, experienced difficulty finding publishers for his translation work. Schalkwyk and Lapula (2000: 24) state that “like his missing Setswana dictionary, folk tales and idioms, the complete [Shakespeare] texts were lost because no colonial institution had been prepared to fund the publication of texts in what they considered to be Plaatje’s ‘weird orthography’”. Therefore, like Mofolo’s work, Plaatje’s work was side-lined through non-publication (confinement) and conformation, and the similarities in the treatment of Mofolo and Plaatje within the developing literary system indicate trends in viewing black writers in the self-reflection of the literary system. These processes neutralised the potential resistant effect of Plaatje’s translational accomplishment. Having discussed two biographies, it is necessary to return to the matter of trends. Indigenous language translation was clearly not a significant trend in the early twentieth century, or that entire century for that matter. The cases described above, along with those mentioned in the summary of translated publications, are therefore exceptional. The inability of African language translation to form a trend was the result of

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various types of conditioning related to the make-up of society. The racial hierarchy within early functionally differentiated South African society provided practical limitations to the production of written translations. Furthermore, ideologies concerning racial distinction were present the literary system and manifested in unwillingness to publish incompatible material and transformation of translated material in ways which neutralised it. Both these actions can therefore be interpreted as ideologemes. Though more cases would ideally have to be considered in relation to trend description, similarities in the two cases discussed are enough to suggest this type of response from the literary system to black translation.

5.5

Conclusion

Translation was seen to fulfil several functions in this chapter under the influence of emerging nationalist ideologies. Afrikaner nationalism directed its employment towards language development and the expression of cultural prestige. In this regard, its employment and selective operation had a greater ideological than strictly functional purpose. The power to employ translation in this way was derived from the degree of participation Afrikaners were allowed within society. Under the conditioning of racially hierarchical social structures and ideologies of racial supremacism, translation between only English and Afrikaans in the prestigious domains of society enshrined the hegemonic status of these two languages, while excluding other local languages. This had serious implications for participants in society and facilitated the process of social exclusion. On the opposite side of the racial power divide, translation was employed to spread resistant ideologies under the influence of Indian nationalism and satyagraha via the media system. Translation was employed to selectively mediate information inter-societally in an effort to prompt a political response from the South African government, with no significant immediate effect. The resilience of hierarchical structures and ideological conditioning was also expressed in the literary system’s ability to neutralise or suppress the expression of African nationalism via

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translation within its communication. Therefore, both attempts at resistant translation in this chapter had little effect on systemic characteristics, though certainly contributing to the irritations that would eventually stimulate social change. While translation’s behaviour in terms of dominant language selection trends reflected the stratified nature of South African society, the increasingly specialised practice of translation displayed the influence of increasing functional differentiation, which gave rise to more complex communicative practices. These two societal characteristics and the conflict engendered by the former would continue to condition translation practices throughout the rest of the twentieth century, as the following chapter shows.

Notes 1. Coloureds, another major South African ethnicity, were also affected by white oppression, although their resistance was not initially associated with a type of nationalism per se. Neither could much evidence of the use of translation in their resistant efforts be found. More recently, however, resistant manifestations of Coloured identity can be found in literature in particular. 2. Although the term non-white may, understandably, be considered somewhat inappropriate for its drawing attention to whites as the norm, it is used in this research in the context of apartheid and its aftermath particularly because apartheid emphasised the racial distinction between white and non-white as a basis for discrimination, and because of the difficulty of finding another term that could be used to designate South Africans of nonEuropean heritage collectively (bearing in mind that this included black, Indian, Coloured and Asian South Africans, who differ in race, culture and heritage). A designation such as “people of colour” arguably possesses the same association as “non-white”. Therefore, the term should not be seen as reflecting racial bias on the side of the researcher, but should be seen as expressing racial distinctions emphasised by apartheid. 3. Ironically, although most white Afrikaans speakers could neither speak nor write Dutch correctly with any amount of ease, they still considered Dutch their mother tongue (Nienaber and Nienaber 1943: 20). 4. A respectful reference to Gandhi.

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5. Gandhi’s use of translation in the context of satyagraha was incidentally not limited to its occurrence in Indian Opinion. Gandhi dictated an English translation of his book Hind Swaraj (1910) in haste to Hermann Kallenbach, which was distributed among friends in manuscript form. Another English translation was produced as a booklet in Phoenix in reaction to the banning of the original. Isabel Hofmeyr’s 2015 article Violent Texts, Vulnerable Readers: Hind Swaraj and Its South African Audiences can be consulted for further information on these translations and two additional English translations produced to determine the degree of sedition in the text.

References Adam, H., & Giliomee, H. (1979). Ethnic power mobilized: Can South Africa change? New Haven: Yale University Press. Alexander, N. (1989). Language policy and national unity in South Africa/Azania. Cape Town: Buchu Books. Anand, Y. P. (2006). History of Indian Opinion: Seminar held by the National Gandhi Museum, New Delhi, on December 18, 2006. http://www.mkgandhi. org/articles/history-of-indian-opinion.html. Accessed 18 October 2016. Bhattacharya, B. (1969). Gandhi, the writer (the image as it grew). New Delhi: National Book Trust. Beukes, A.-M. (2007). On language heroes and the modernising movement of Afrikaner nationalism. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 25 (3), 245–258. Dhupelia-Mesthrie, U. (2003). The significance of Indian Opinion. Address to conference on the alternate media to commemorate the centenary of the founding of Indian Opinion, 4 June 2003. http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/historyindian-opinion-newspaper. Accessed 19 October 2016. Dhupelia-Mesthrie, U. (2004). Gandhi’s prisoner? The life of Gandhi’s son Manilal . Cape Town: Kwela Books. Farzin, S. (2008). Sichtbarkeit durch Unsichtbarkeit: Die Rhetorik der Exklusion in der Systemtheorie Niklas Luhmanns. Soziale Systeme, 14 (2), 191– 209.

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Gandhi, M. K. (1958). The collected works of Mahatma Gandhi (Vol. 13). New Delhi: Publications Division, Ministry of Information and Broadcasting. Gandhi, M. K. (1968). Satyagraha in South Africa. In S. Narayan (Ed.), Selected works of Mahatma Gandhi (V. G. Desai, Trans., Vol. 2, pp. 1–309). Ahmedabad: Navajivan Publishing House. Hobsbawm, E. (1994). The rise of ethnolinguistic nationalism. In J. Hutchinson & A. D. Smith (Eds.), Nationalism (pp. 177–184). London: Oxford University Press. Khalema, N. E. (2016). Linguicism and nationalism: A post-colonial gaze on the promotion of Afrikaans as a national language in apartheid South Africa. International Journal of Language Studies, 10 (1), 91–110. Mendelssohn, S. (1979). A South African bibliography to the year 1925. London: Mansell. Mesthrie, R. (1996). Language contact, transmission, shift: South African Indian English. In V. De Klerk (Ed.), Focus on South Africa (Series: Varieties of English around the World) (pp. 79–98). Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Nienaber, G. S., & Nienaber, P. J. (1943). Die opkoms van Afrikaans as kultuurtaal . Pretoria: Van Schaik. Ntuli, D. B., & Swanepoel, C. F. (1993). Southern African literature in African languages: A concise historical perspective. Pretoria: Acacia. Opland, J. (2000). Languages of South Africa. In P. France (Ed.), The Oxford Guide to Literature in English Translation (pp. 134–135). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Parsons, N. (1998). Foreword. In S. T. Plaatje (Eds.), Native life in South Africa, before and since the European war and the Boer rebellion. http://www.thuto. org/ubh/etext/nlisa/nl-np.htm. Accessed 15 June 2020. Posthumus, M. J. (1936). Die rol van vertaling in die opbou van ’n Afrikaanse krygstaal by die Departement van Verdediging. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of Pretoria. Ricard, A. (2016). Towards silence: Thomas Mofolo, small literatures and poor translation. Tydskrif vir Letterkunde, 53(2), 48–62. Schalkwyk, D., & Lapula, L. (2000). Solomon Plaatje, William Shakespeare and the translations of culture. Pretexts: Literary and Cultural Studies, 9 (1), 9–26. Teer-Tomaselli, R. (2015). Language, programming and propaganda during the SABC’s first decade. African Journalism Studies, 36 (2), 59–76.

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Thompson, L. (2001). A history of South Africa (3rd ed.). New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Vahed, G. (2010). An ‘imagined community’ in diaspora: Gujaratis in South Africa. South Asian History & Culture, 1(4), 615–629. Van Wyk, C. (2003). Sol Plaatje. Johannesburg: Awareness Publishing. Willian, B. (2012). Whose Shakespeare? Early black South African engagement with Shakespeare. Shakespeare in Southern Africa, 24, 3–24.

6 Peak—Oppression and Resistance

The instatement of apartheid in 1948 locked South African society into a system of racial segregation and oppression for more than 40 years with major consequences regarding power and ideology. In terms of power, it secured authority for Afrikaners and white South Africans in general and preserved the subordinate position of non-whites through ever more violent suppression, which elicited increasingly militant resistance. The malevolent aims of apartheid were sugar-coated with seemingly neutral concepts like self -determination and separate development, as though apartheid granted the same degree of privilege to all races and nationalities to live out their culture. But these concepts merely provided an excuse for practising a very severe form of racial oppression. The power struggle described in the previous chapter reached a climax in this era, culminating in the abandoning of apartheid and the instatement of a democratic government in 1994. In terms of ideology, nationalism was again a motivating factor for translation, but is not singled out as much as in the previous chapter. Instead, the focus falls on apartheid ideology, on the one hand, which saw not only Afrikaners, but all white South Africans as superior to non-whites. On the other hand, the focus is © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_6

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on a collective resistance ideology based on humanitarianism, equality, freedom and democracy, which was not necessarily embodied within specific cultural identities. As before, translation was used both oppressively and resistantly and this era arguably contains the most striking examples of the employment of translation in social power struggles. The post-World War II era, which commenced shortly before the apartheid era, ushered in a new historical dispensation globally, characterised by an even greater intensification of functional differentiation. The descriptions of society according to social systems theory (SST) given at the beginning of the previous chapter are therefore still largely applicable to this era. The main difference is the intensification of the primary structure of functional differentiation and the solidification of the secondary stratified social structure. Society’s increasing functional differentiation is important in relation to the further emergence of translation as a function system in South Africa, which took place at an exponential rate almost concurrently with developments in the West. The further systematisation of translation in South Africa could be viewed as a “naturally occurring” development in the context of an overall process of increased functional differentiation, but it was, moreover, a strongly ideologically supported phenomenon. After the historical and social contextualisation and the tracing of translation’s further development, translation trends are considered according to their relationship with oppressive and resistant forces respectively. Manipulative and controlling uses of translation into the African languages involving the political and educational systems are discussed in relation to oppression, while dissident literary translation is considered in relation to resistance.

6.1

Historical Background and Societal Character

Apartheid was a policy of segregation based on race, which was introduced with the election of the National Party into power under D.F. Malan in 1948. It permeated virtually all aspects of South African

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society and resulted in gross human rights violations towards nonwhites. Because of internal pressure exerted by various political and social movements as well as international pressure in the form of sanctions and isolation, apartheid was forsaken in 1991 and the first democratic elections in 1994 ushered in a new democratic and non-racial1 political dispensation, which event ends the period in question. Hermann Giliomee (2012: 22) traces the first use of the word apartheid back to 1929, when it was used by a Dutch Reformed cleric, Jan Christoffel du Plessis. The terms volkseie (belonging to a particular people), eie (own) and selfsyn (being oneself ) are highlighted by Giliomee (ibid.) in relation to Du Plessis’s explanation of apartheid and these offer a very good crystallisation of the thought that apartheid represents—that each racial grouping ought to develop separately (yet not equally) according to its own cultural characteristics. The year 1929 is further significant as the year in which the main issue in the election campaign of the National Party became “preservation of white South Africa” (ibid.). The rapid growth of the black population and rapid black urbanisation became the main theme in political debates starting from 1930 (Giliomee 2012: 31). The liberal Smuts regime, which preceded the apartheid regime, had recognised the permanence of urban blacks—though for Smuts, political power for Africans was an “unthinkable concession” (Giliomee 2012: 33)—and began to provide improved social services and education to the urban black population within its policy, which fell somewhere between integration and segregation. The National Party, however, had formulated a definite policy of racial segregation (Giliomee 2012: 32). The election into power of the National Party in 1948 by a narrow margin not only signified a victory for Afrikaner nationalists, but led to the solidification of thoughts about race that had been present in white politics and academia, yet existed within a situation of fluctuation and confusion. This election steered Afrikaner and white ideology in a direction which has been seen respectively as a development of the already-present segregationist philosophy and as a watershed—the latter implying that South African society may slowly have embraced racial integration and the non-white franchise had Smuts remained in power. Giliomee (2012: 35) refers to the latter possibility as “wishful thinking”, indicating the absence of a leader capable of bringing such gradual reform about,

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with Smuts being old, “exhausted and without vision”. Nevertheless, the fact that the National Party actively promoted its philosophy through propaganda and thus fostered the spread and acceptance of a separatist ideology most certainly reinforced such views and directed the ideological self-observation of South African society in this way. A number of discriminatory laws existed before the instatement of apartheid, but laws of this kind proliferated under apartheid and led to economic, educational, legal and political inequality and geographic and residential segregation with a host of banning and security laws enforcing compliance. In addition to the law, violence was used to enforce apartheid, to which two events in particular attest—the Sharpeville Massacre of 1960, in which 69 protesters against pass laws were killed, and the Soweto Uprising of 1976, in which 176 children were killed for protesting against the introduction of Afrikaans as a medium of instruction in schools. These events strengthened international opposition to the apartheid regime, which had continued to enforce racial segregation and discrimination in an international atmosphere which no longer embraced such ideologies, at least from the 1960s onward. This tenacity yields interesting insights with regard to autopoiesis and structural coupling, which is described briefly in an attempt to contextualise apartheid policy and its practices within the international political arena. In the context of colonisation, the existence of racial subjugation in South Africa in the first half of the twentieth century was unfortunately not surprising. Similar forms of racial discrimination existed in virtually all colonies, being infamously practised in the Southern states of North America, for example. Segregationist and racially biased ideologies were therefore related to thoughts of Western supremacy that were globally prevalent during the entire colonial period. South African society showed ideological similarities (coupling) with the rest of the colonised world in this regard. However, unionisation brought about a greater degree of political autonomy than existed before and social functions became increasingly reflective of ideologies that arose as a result of specific internal systemic conditions. The strength (i.e. reproducing capacity) of this ideological autonomy allowed South African society to retain its grossly oppressive political ideologies even when these were

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no longer popular and were even denounced by societies in the environment with which South African society shared political and cultural relations. This ideological “obstinacy” was internally motivated by the need of an increasingly “threatened” white minority to cling to its political dominance. The tenacity with which the South African political system enforced apartheid ideology beyond the 1960s indicates that it was not directly governable by its environment and responded to stimuli by means of its own autopoiesis. But environmental stimuli eventually exerted enough irritation on the South African political system for it to forsake apartheid policies, pointing to the constraining effect of the environment under increasingly persistent stimulation. This displayed the simultaneous effect of autopoiesis and structural coupling on the South African system’s behaviour.

6.2

Translation as a Function System

The increased systematisation of translation may seem to have little to do with the ideological influence of apartheid, and may appear, instead, to reflect international trends towards greater systematisation of the translation practice. But both forces played a role in translation’s further systemic development in this period and it is in fact questionable whether South African translation could have followed international trends if it were not for the strong ideological influence present. In terms of the general systematisation of translation globally, the end of World War II was decisive, as it ushered in an increasingly globalised and mechanised world and made translation visible, most notably through interpreting at the Nuremburg trials. Attempts to formulate translation theories prior to the war were mainly based on philological textual comparison, but the development of linguistics as an academic discipline and of machine translation altered this trend (Naudé 2011: 227). The view of translation as a means of “cracking linguistic code” in the war context led to a deeper investigation of translation from a linguistic perspective, causing linguistic studies in translation to proliferate and attain a higher degree of sophistication. The simultaneous establishment of organisations dedicated to translation

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and translation schools is further evidence of the systemic development of translation internationally. In South Africa, greater systematisation of the translation function system was evident in this era in the further establishment of translation bodies, the instatement of translator training and adherence to international academic trends in translation. These three matters are discussed separately to show their contribution to the development of the local translation system. It should be noted that translation’s further systematisation was constrained firstly by bilingual language policy requiring translation between English and Afrikaans locally. Therefore, translation’s increased systematisation had a strong link to its internal functioning between language domains within South African society and autopoiesis provided the initial conditions for translation’s ability to further differentiate. However, these conditions provided a basis upon which structural coupling with the extra-societal environment could effect further development, mainly in relation to translation’s professional and academic specialisation.

The Establishment of Translation Bodies The latter half of the twentieth century saw an increased need for bodies dealing with translation to cope with the large amount of translation that was taking place in the South African administrative sphere especially. Incidentally, it is notable that translation began to take place from Afrikaans into English to a greater extent. Dominique Mwepu (2008: 93) states that by 1961, 63% of official documents were produced in Afrikaans and required translation into English in a reversal of the trend seen previously, reflecting the new position of Afrikaans. Mwepu (2008: 88) identifies the Translation Bureau2 (subsequently renamed the State Language Services Bureau and National Language Services), which was established in 1930, as the only and oldest public institution dealing specifically with issues related to translation. He explains that prior to the 1950s, the Translation Bureau was involved mainly with the revision of translations, but that in 1954, when it became centralised under the Department of Education, Arts and

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Science, its function changed to translating for all government departments except provincial administration and South African Railways (ibid.). With this change, the Translation Bureau also began to incorporate European languages into its services more extensively and moved away from a focus on English and Afrikaans (ibid.). This is reflective of the increased trend towards globalisation following World War II. In 1954, the Bureau is said to have been able to work in 20 languages (Mwepu 2008: 89). Some departments at this time had translation services of their own, referring to the Bureau only particularly challenging documents (ibid.). Mwepu (ibid.) further explains that between 1948 and 1954, a number of other official bodies dedicated to language service came into being, many of which required translators and collaborated with the Translation Bureau. Such bodies included the Technical Terminological Bureau, the Transvaal Association of Municipal Translators, the Departmental Place Names Committee, the Defence Terminology Board, the Interdepartmental Committee for Aeronautical Terminology, the Post Office Terminology Committee, the Committee for Agricultural Terminology and the Committee for Mining Terminology, which produced terminology lists and dictionaries in collaboration with the Translation Bureau (ibid.). The services of the Translation Bureau were apparently in high demand, since by 1955 it could no longer keep up with the requests for translation and appealed for the restriction and curtailment of translation work (Mwepu 2008: 90). This appeal was rejected in favour of outsourcing translators, which led to the creation of a market for freelance translators for the first time, with freelancing eventually becoming more desirable than government posts, to the detriment of the Bureau (ibid.). The creation of a freelance market meant that translation had become a private economic enterprise. Furthermore, the increasingly specialised and technical nature of translation work led to the further recognition of translation as a specialised service. The consolidation of translation as a profession in South Africa was symbolised, according to Mwepu (ibid.), by the establishment of the South African Translators and Interpreters’ Institute (known currently as the South African Translator’s Institute, or SATI) in 1956. South Africa was not far behind the Western

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world in terms of this professional consolidation, and emerging trends towards the recognition of translation as a profession in South Africa mirrored international trends. The famous Fédération Internationale des Traducteurs (FIT), for example, was established only three years prior. SATI was formed by a group of 19 prominent Afrikaans translators, and while its practical aims were to represent the needs of South African translators, to instil vocational pride and to protect the public making use of translators (Beukes 2007: 121–122), behind these practical motivations lay deeper ideological motivations. Beukes (2007: 122) explains: “Besides a drive to establish translation as a respected professional activity in South Africa, [the founding members] were inspired by their ‘Afrikaanse taaltrots’ (their pride in Afrikaans) and their desire to promote the development and use of their language”. SATI’s work during the 1950s and 1960s took place in this atmosphere of Afrikaner nationalism, but this seemed to change during the 1970s, when the institute attempted to shift the focus from Afrikaans and incorporate African language translators in the so-called homelands (ibid.) (which are explained later in this chapter). When full membership for Africans was impeded by the fact that homeland translators were not South African citizens, these translators were made regional representatives of SATI’s Executive (ibid.). Further attempts were made in the 1980s to incorporate homeland translators, and the African Language Practitioners’ Association (ALPA), which was established in 1980 in Gazankulu, became affiliated with SATI as a corporate member (Beukes 2007: 123). In 1983 SATI first applied for membership to FIT, although it suffered numerous rejections from the UNESCO-affiliated federation until the abolition of apartheid (ibid.). SATI tried repeatedly to convince FIT of its non-political motives and racial inclusivity, but its professed alignment with broad government policy was problematic. SATI’s apparent racial inclusivity may have indicated the development of the translation system increasingly independently of the strong degree of political conditioning exercised previously, although a degree of “alignment” with the government was still apparent. Beukes presents SATI’s ideological position after 1975 as purely professional and independent of apartheid policy, but does not elaborate on the conditions that caused such a change. She states only that “the seventies represented a watershed period

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in the life of the Institute when changed political concerns suggested that SATI’s exclusive focus on the Afrikaans language should shift to address the needs of its non-Afrikaans membership and at the same time lure African language translators into its fold” (Beukes 2007: 122). SATI’s strong desire to belong to an international federation of translators does seem to indicate genuine interest in the furtherance of translation as a profession, in spite of its problematic support of broad government policies. This would imply, from the perspective of systemic development, that the translation system in South Africa had experienced a significant degree of professionalisation to the extent that professional interests in the development of translation were beginning to surpass nationalistic motivations. Concurrent development of translation in other spheres also suggests this state of affairs.

The Establishment of Translator Training The establishment of translator training further expresses translation’s increased systematisation. Under the initiation of the Translation Bureau, Mwepu (2008: 91) identifies two training phases. The first included assessment and recruitment of university graduates with language degrees. During this phase, which presumably started in 1959, translators were recruited by means of annual examinations administered by the Bureau for which a Translator’s Diploma was issued, but these were done away with in 1962 because of poor results and were replaced with departmental tests, which were also unsuccessful, however (Mwepu 2008: 92). In addition, voluntary in-house foreign language training was conducted between 1953 and 1957 (ibid.). In the second phase, the Translation Bureau introduced tertiary-level translation courses (Mwepu 2008: 91). Mwepu identifies three main reasons for this decision: staff loss and poor results of recruitment, the increasing demand for translation work and the rapid development of Afrikaans. Based on encouragement by the director of the Translation Bureau, Rhodes University instituted a one-year diploma course in 1975. This first tertiary-level translation course in South Africa was supplemented with a three-year degree in 1977 (Mwepu 2008: 94).

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Other universities followed suit, with the Universities of South Africa, the Witwatersrand, Stellenbosch, the Free State and the Rand Afrikaans University introducing postgraduate courses shortly afterwards (ibid.). Unlike the developments in translation related to SATI, this case of translational development, being under the initiation of the Translation Bureau, was more directly influenced by the political system. It not only reflected the need to fulfil staffing requirements arising within government bodies, but was also ideologically motivated by governmentsupported ideologies, which is particularly evident in the establishment of training in response to the development of Afrikaans. Mwepu (2008: 95) indicates that translation’s development during this period could not have been accomplished without political will on the side of the government, yet ideological support from translators and the Afrikaans public is also recognised as important. Coupling between the political and educational systems is evident in the introduction of university training under the second phase and this was, in turn, conditioned by an ideologically based insistence on language quality and language promotion. Translation’s coupling with the education system at the level of tertiary education suggests a high esteem for its social function for the first time.

Embracing International Translation Trends A further stage in the emergence of translation as a system in South Africa was reflected in the developing academic status of translation, evident in the embrace and application of emerging translation theories. Theorisation about translation and the putting into practice of translation theories implied that translation had begun to obtain the status of a legitimate and increasingly autonomous academic field. One of the first consequential post-linguistics translation theories was Eugene Nida’s theory of dynamic equivalence, which had a direct influence on South African translation, prompting a new wave of Bible translations into the South African languages during the latter half of the twentieth century. The fact that this theory had such an impact on South African translation was proof that South Africa was participating in the developing field of Translation Studies (though it had not yet been

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named thus) and had therefore become part of an international academic translation network. Eric Hermanson (2002) divides South African Bible translation into two periods: the missionary period, discussed in Chapter 4, and the Bible Society period, which commenced after the establishment of the Bible Society of South Africa in 1965. Translations under the second period were directly linked to the influence of Eugene Nida, who hosted a translation conference in 1967 in Turfloop, South Africa (Hermanson 2002: 9). Jacobus Naudé (2001: 109) explains that the Bible society had originally envisioned the revision of existing Bible translations, but that Nida had suggested complete re-translations based upon his own theory. Nida’s theory represented a strongly receptor-focused approach, in stark contrast to the formal and literal translations produced by missionaries and the translators of the first Afrikaans Bible. Nida hosted several more conferences throughout the re-translation project in 1979, 1982 and 1985 (Hermanson 2002: 9). These conferences and the implementation of the principles conveyed there played an important role in establishing the value of translation theory and therefore of translation as an academic field in South Africa. They also allowed South African translation to develop in line with international academic and theoretical trends. These conferences and their significant effects were therefore evidence of the South African translation system’s coupling with the environment. The emergence of a more democratic ideology within the religious system allowed the embracing of Nida’s theories and indicated the waning of political influence over translation (with the political system having strongly influenced at least Afrikaans Bible translation previously). This change in ideology may seem surprising, as Nida’s visits took place in the period of so-called high apartheid, when restrictive measures were at their worst. But if the need for greater restrictions is seen as a defensive reaction to increasing resistance to apartheid, then perhaps it is not so surprising. Emphasising the influence of ideology on Afrikaans Bible translation, Jacobus Naudé (2001) attempts to prove that the first Afrikaans Bible translation (1933) and its revision (1953) endorsed the idea of segregation, while the 1983 translation symbolised the waning of Afrikaner nationalism and the embracing of democratic

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values. His argument that the first translation endorsed segregation is not very convincing, since what is revealed is instead a fairly direct translation of the source manuscripts, with no convincing evidence of manipulation or skewing. Therefore, even though it is known that Afrikaans church bodies initially sanctioned segregation and that nationalist motivations underpinned the first Afrikaans Bible translation, Naudé does not succeed in proving that the first translation supported segregation in relation to the actual Biblical text. Evidence for his argument that the 1983 translation introduced democratic ideals is quite convincing, however. One might characterise this translation as “politically correct” due to its very careful handling of references to race, gender and other potentially offensive matters—ideologemes that had not been expressed previously. In this regard, it shows diversion from the source manuscripts to suit norms in the receptor culture in accordance with Nida’s receptorbased philosophy. Examples of this approach include translating “barbarian” as “andertalig” (speaking another language), “mixed people” as “mense van’n ander afkoms” (people of another descent), “foreigner” as “Nie-Israeliet” (non-Israelite) and “brother” as “mede-Israeliet” (fellow Israelite) or “bloedverwant” (relative), for example (Naudé 2001: 119– 121). This approach indicates the constraining effect of democratic ideals which possibly parallels processes of change identified in SATI’s ideological stance. Both of these cases thus express the penetration of ideologies popular in environmental systems into South African society, with the autopoietic nature of the religious and educational systems providing the conditions to allow such opening. Regarding the African languages, the Bible Society not only retranslated the Bible into African languages which already possessed translations, but also introduced Bible translations into additional languages such as Ndebele (1986—New Testament and a section of the Psalms only) and Swati (1996) (Hermanson 2002: 11) and the scale of translation was therefore extensive, indicating the “vitality” of translational activity under this period of increased systematisation. The fact that the function of Biblical translation became centralised within a body dedicated to this task shows that translation was deemed specialised enough for this type of clustering. It indicates that the function of Biblical translation became increasingly incorporated into

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translation’s general tendency towards systematisation rather than simply being a communicative function of the religious system (or foreign religious systems) as before. The further development of the South African translation system on all three fronts—the further creation of organisations, the introduction of training and the embrace of translation theories—thus reflected developments in the intra-societal environment, which was becoming increasingly differentiated and demanded increasing specialisation of translation. It also expressed coupling with other societies, which facilitated further academic and professional development of the translation system and offered ideological irritation. In both cases, the translation system copied onto itself the complexity it observed in the environment and effected coupling to cope within its “habitat”. The political system provided important stimuli for the initial development of the translation function system in terms of both structures and ideological conditioning. But developments in translation’s systematisation increasingly reflected independence from the political system and operation according to its own interests, reflecting the “maturation” of the translation system as an autonomous system. Thus, whereas the “servitude” of the translation system towards the political system was pronounced initially, it became increasingly independent as it developed vocationally centred and academic functions. Both the oppressive and resistant uses of translation that are discussed subsequently should be considered against this background of translation’s further development as a social system and society’s increased functional differentiation overall.

6.3

Oppressive Translation

Motivated by apartheid ideology, translation was not only employed to develop Afrikaans, but also the major Bantu languages. However, in the latter case, endeavours were tainted by intentions to control and manipulate the black population. This section considers oppressive written translation into the African languages in government attempts to spread and promote apartheid ideology.

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Apartheid’s relationship with the development of the indigenous South African languages has been described as ironic. On the one hand, apartheid stifled the growth of the African languages by relegating their use to the lower strata of South African society and by limiting the establishment of a broad black readership by withholding education and resources. On the other hand, apartheid provided some means for the development of the African languages within the context of separate development. This linguistic development, involving translation, occurred mainly in relation to three apartheid initiatives: the provision of mother tongue education under Bantu Education, the provision of radio programming with Radio Bantu and the creation of independent homelands or Bantustans, in which certain indigenous languages became official languages. All three these apartheid initiatives were underpinned by oppressive intentions. Bantu education’s use of mother tongue education was a way of promoting separate identities within the black population in order to divide the black majority into tribal compartments (a divide and conquer strategy). It was also a means of limiting participation in the privileged domains of society by limiting proficiency in English and Afrikaans and restricting education to minimal labour-oriented training. Radio Bantu’s use of translation also promoted separate black identities and additionally communicated propaganda, while the creation of independent homelands was a sinister way of banishing black South Africans to reserves and removing their South African citizenship under the guise of granting them independence from “white” South Africa to live according to their traditions and tribal customs. “National” languages and identities were promoted in the Bantustans, again as part of the divide and conquer strategy, and as a means to make the apartheid government seem tolerant of black independence and cultural expression. Of these three avenues of language development through translation, only the first and the third manifested in written translation practices and are discussed in this section. While various authors touch on the use of translation in these contexts in passing and some information could be gleaned from bibliographies and archival material, much research remains to be done on this aspect of translation under apartheid.

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Translation and Bantu Education Prior to the passing of the Bantu Education Act in 1953, virtually all black education was carried out by missionaries. The development of an educated black elite through missionary education was problematic to the apartheid government and it decided to take control of black education. Before the instatement of Bantu education, the government had provided some monetary support for mission schools, but after its instatement, acceptance of the new curriculum became a condition for receiving financial support, causing many mission schools to close rather than support apartheid education (Möller 2014: 43). Therefore, black education was placed solely in the hands of the apartheid government. Albert Gerard (1981: 207) explains the oppressive goal of Bantu education by stating that it attempted to “achieve a definite lowering of educational standards by confining the black child to the limits of his tribal outlook”. However, at the same time “a fast-growing market was created, almost overnight, for vernacular literary productions” (ibid.). Translation played a role in the creation of this literary material alongside original writing under tightly controlled conditions. The use of translation not only made it possible to add to the growing body of African literature, but offered a form of ideological control. Literature chosen for black education consisted overwhelmingly of innocent adventure works and books depicting Africans in a subordinate position to whites (Maake 2000: 139). Some of the books that were translated into the African languages in order to promote government intentions, as listed by Ntuli and Swanepoel (1993: 24–25), are mentioned to illustrate this selectional trend. Among the books commissioned by the government for translation into Bantu languages, H. Rider Haggard’s books were a popular choice, with King Solomon’s mines (1886) being translated into Zulu, Xhosa and Southern Sotho, Nada the lily (1949), being translated into Zulu and She (1887) being translated into Zulu, Xhosa and Tswana. The apartheid government intended Haggard’s adventure fiction as a type of innocent distraction. Further examples of translated works include Anthony Hope’s The prisoner of Zenda (1894), which was translated into Zulu and Xhosa; James Percy Fitzpatrick’s Jock of the Bushveld (1907),

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which was translated into Xhosa; Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island (1883), which was translated into Zulu; Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe (1719) which was translated into Southern Sotho; and Charles Dickens’s A Christmas carol (1843), which was translated into Tsonga, Southern Sotho and Zulu. An exception to this trend is the translation of George Orwell’s Animal farm (1945) into Xhosa, motivated by desires to discourage communism. Black education also introduced a so-called Shakespearean phase in African language translation (Ntuli and Swanepoel 1993: 22). It is perhaps only in Tswana, with the translations of Shakespeare by Sol Plaatje, that Shakespeare translations were performed independently of educational motivations. Ntuli and Swanepoel (1993: 22–25) provide an overview of the translations of Shakespeare into the African languages under this Shakespearean phase which indicates that various combinations of the same five plays—Julius Caesar, Henry IV , The merchant of Venice, Twelfth night and Macbeth—were translated into seven of the Bantu languages, mainly in the 1950s and 1960s. The relative simplicity of these plays (in terms of lack of sub-plots, etc.) is a possible reason that they were chosen as source texts. Incidentally, Shakespeare is said to have influenced several black authors’ style of original writing in the African languages (see Ntuli and Swanepoel 1993: 23) and therefore had an important stylistic impact on indigenous literature, as did the Bible. The fact that no translations of well-known contemporary literature were published is striking. Literature translated into the African languages generally represented similar innocuous genres and similar literary periods and thus offered a limited and skewed representation of Western literature, clearly reflecting ideological filtering in the choice of translated text. The political system thus influenced the education system, which in turn directed translation’s semi-permeability in line with government ideologies. Outside of the educational context, very little literary translation took place into, between or from the African languages (keep in mind the list of twentieth-century literary translations from the African languages provided in the previous chapter). This indicates that the educational system largely determined the production of African language translation

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during apartheid. General systemic characteristics, i.e. racial subordination and the position of the African languages within society, impeded literary translation otherwise. Concerning the apparent irony of language development under Bantu Education, Nhlanhla Maake (2015: 12) explains: [U]nder the auspices of the Bantu Education Act and its implementation, the use of indigenous languages as media of teaching and learning resulted in the production of a broad lexicon and scientific vocabulary, which facilitated the teaching of biology, physics and mathematics or arithmetic in these languages. This was despite the fact that the aim was to subject “African children to a financially starved and ethnically segregated type of schooling designed to prepare them for an inferior status as adults” (Gerhart, 1979: 2) […]. It is plausible to suggest that there is nowhere else on the African continent where indigenous languages gained such an impetus, as at that pre-independence period.

While Maake understandably refers to language development as ironic, it is certainly plausible within the context of separate development. Linguistically developmental translation involving Afrikaans and the indigenous languages was conducted with vastly different incentives and outcomes. Although language development through translation increased the functional status of the African languages in certain social domains, it was undergirded by the intention of creating culturallinguistic divisions and effecting ideological control. The fact that the African languages were not elevated to the degree of English and Afrikaans or recognised as official languages in “white” South Africa (i.e. areas outside the homelands) meant that their educational, scientific and literary development posed no threat to the dominant status of English and Afrikaans. Mpe and Seeber (2000: 19) summarise this situation by stating that Bantu education “provided a space for the proliferation of African language publishing, while simultaneously drastically reducing the theme of its scope and messages”, thereby neutralising its potential developmental capacity and ability to effect changes in social power constellations.

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Translation and the Homelands The creation of the so-called homelands, formerly known as Bantustans, took place with the passing of the Promotion of Self Government Act (1959). The purpose of this act was to create what seemed to be self-governing units for the various indigenous peoples, which were in reality simply indirectly governed units (Khunou 2009: 84). The Bantustans were administered by tribal leaders, but the apartheid government appointed leaders who were sympathetic to its cause and could act as government puppets for personal gain. Four Bantustans—the Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and the Ciskei—were granted independence (not acknowledged outside of South Africa) with the view to forming a commonwealth with South Africa, but it meant that all the “citizens” of those Bantustans were made foreigners in South Africa, with disadvantageous consequences. The homeland system emphasised and promoted the independent development of the various indigenous cultures and languages, and language development was a result of the employment of the indigenous languages as official languages of those “states”. Unfortunately, very little research has been conducted on the use of the indigenous languages as official languages in the homelands and the extent to which this administrative use of the indigenous languages contributed to their development has not been researched as far as could be ascertained. It is also not easy to determine exactly how translation was used in official settings in these homelands, although translation was clearly extensively employed. This can be established from archival records and bibliographies such as the Bibliography of official publications of the black South African homelands (1983). This bibliography lists official publications of the various homelands and indicates in which languages they were published (usually in English and/or Afrikaans and the relevant indigenous language). Publications include Hansard, estimates, official gazettes, laws, statutes, departmental reports, yearbooks, newsletters and various other miscellaneous publications. Unfortunately, the source languages are not indicated, and it is therefore difficult to determine whether the listed texts were originally produced in English, Afrikaans or in an indigenous language. The fact that certain documents

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have only titles in the indigenous languages while the absence of fulllength texts is indicated suggests that translations were not produced in these cases and that documents were originally composed in Afrikaans or English. The control exercised by the apartheid government over these states is further reason to believe that these documents were originally composed in one of the official languages of Republican South Africa. While the prominence of Afrikaans and English as languages of power is suggested in this case, the fact that high level administrative material could be published in indigenous languages has much to say about the functional potential of these languages, and their use in administrative contexts displayed their higher functional ability (in ways that the current government might be reluctant to acknowledge). But, as was the case with Bantu Education, the divisive effect of language promotion detracted from the possible benefit of functional language elevation. In addition, the fact that indigenous languages were not employed independently in homeland administration, but alongside Afrikaans and English, implies that their use was merely tokenistic. The very creation of the homelands was in fact a tokenistic strategy, as “supreme” governmental authority was retained by “white” South Africa and this also detracted from the potential social benefit of the functional elevation of the indigenous languages. The non-recognition of the African languages outside the homelands limited the potential for social language elevation to the confines of a particular homeland, which had very little practical authority. Therefore, asymmetrical power relations are evident in the linguistic aspects of homeland governance despite the strides towards functional language development. The practice of translation under Bantu education and in homeland administration reveals that written translation into the African languages was no longer mainly stimulated by religious social functions, as before, but became strongly politically motivated3 in addition, no doubt in response to the intensified racial stratification of society, which required intensified means of enforcement to ensure white hegemony. The political system, as a client of the translation system, thus exercised a high degree of conditioning on translations commissioned for its purposes. The largely one-directional nature of translation into the African languages was indicative of desires to control and influence and

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the lack of translation from these languages again revealed cultural disinterest and the constraining effect of social conditions. In terms of the main direction of translation, therefore, there was very little difference between this era and previous eras. In this case, however, the intention of unidirectional translation was blatantly oppressive and its effect severely detrimental to black participants in society, whereas generally unidirectional translation trends involving Biblical translation were, by contrast, accompanied by ideas of social elevation.

6.4

Resistant Translation

The main avenue for resistant translation during apartheid was literary translation, which involved an unprecedented outward flow of Afrikaans and English resistant literature from South African society to other societies. This section investigates this trend as it relates to Afrikaans and English subversive literature separately to facilitate the description of certain variations, although general similarities are observable, and a common liberal ideology underpinned both outbound streams of literature. In relation to Afrikaans, the resistant and renewing translation practices related to the so-called Sestiger literary movement are examined, including a slight digression involving consideration of ongoing translation into Afrikaans and its ambivalent ideological position. The second sub-section covers the translation of local English resistant literature into foreign languages and the environmental conditions which facilitated and determined the selective filtering of resistant messages.

Translation and the Sestiger Movement A group of Afrikaans writers known as the Sestigers (writers of the 1960s) was responsible for the dissident writing and resistant translation investigated in this section. Before the 1960s, Afrikaans writers generally contributed to the development of a superior Afrikaner identity and in most cases adhered to nationalistic ideals, facilitating the erection of a stronghold for the Afrikaner culture from whose ideology

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deviation was not tolerated (Kruger 2012: 277). As representatives of Afrikaner culture, Afrikaans authors initially enjoyed a privileged position. However, Afrikaans intellectual became increasingly disillusioned with government ideals after the instatement of apartheid and the writers of the Sestiger movement resorted to the creation of resistant literature to voice their discontent with the injustices they were witnessing, mainly by depicting violence, racial conflict, cross-cultural love and resistance against the Establishment in their writing (Kruger 2012: 279). Authors who belonged to this movement were not only politically revolutionary, but also brought about a literary revolution, particularly in the genre of prose, where new literary forms were employed and new themes explored, often of a shocking nature under the influence of existentialism, surrealism and absurdism. The government’s response to this literary activism and revolt against reigning traditions and morals was the exercise of censorship and the banning of books and authors. The banning in 1974 of the first Afrikaans novel under the Publications and Entertainment Act of 1963 (André Brink’s Kennis van die aand ) sent a clear message that subversive writing would not be tolerated by the government, even from “its own” writers (Kruger 2012: 279). In this context, Kruger (ibid.) states that “recourse to English can be regarded as a desperate search for personal literary survival”. Many of the authors who made use of translation to resist banning practised self-translation, placing control of translation, and even the power to self-manipulate the source text, firmly in their own hands. Afrikaans resistant translation represented a significant change in Afrikaans literary translation trends. Although translation of literature into Afrikaans continued and even intensified under apartheid, as will be discussed shortly, the South African literary system also become a productive exporter of Afrikaans literature under the influence of resistant ideologies. Two of the most prolific exporters of Afrikaans literature were André P. Brink (1935–2015) and Breyten Breytenbach (1939–), who both practised self-translation. Brink was one of South Africa’s most celebrated and most controversial authors and the most productive literary exporter. Anita Liebenberg (1998: 294) considers Brink’s oeuvre to be important because of the high quality of his work and its ability to

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reflect both literary and sociopolitical trends. Brink’s novel Kennis van die aand thematised so many apartheid taboos that its banning was inevitable. This banning ironically gave the novel much publicity abroad and spurred Brink and other authors on to launch a literary and translational offensive to make their views heard (Kruger 2012: 280). Brink had close ties with Europe, having studied and lived in Paris on two occasions (1959–1961 and 1967–1968). It is the exposure to multicultural French society which unveiled to him the injustices of apartheid and his European experience greatly influenced his liberal ideology. At least 106 published translations of Brink’s prose could be identified during the apartheid era, spanning a very broad language range, including, besides Western European languages, multiple translations into Eastern European and Scandinavian languages and translations into languages such as Turkish, Hebrew, Russian, Japanese and Vietnamese. Brink’s translated work transcended the Anglo-European realm, although the West remained the most popular destination. Breyten Breytenbach won his acclaim through poetry. His disillusionment with apartheid compelled him to move to Paris in the early 1960s, where he married a French Vietnamese woman. This prohibited him from re-entering South Africa under the Prohibition of Mixed Marriages Act (1949). He did return to South Africa illegally in 1975, however, and was subsequently imprisoned for 7 years. He was also charged with high treason for alleged involvement in bombing attempts, though the state had too little evidence to win its case against him. Breytenbach returned to Paris upon his early release from prison (due to international pressure), having made intimate acquaintance with apartheid’s oppressive policies. Breytenbach’s oeuvre consists besides poetry of prose and essays, mainly written in Afrikaans, although he also writes in English. At least 40 published translations of Breytenbach’s work into 12 languages could be identified during the apartheid era, with translations appearing between 1964 and 1990. The target languages mainly included English, Dutch, German and French (the most recurring languages) as well as other European languages, with the only exception being one Arabic translation. While Breytenbach and Brink were by far the most prolific exporters of resistant Afrikaans literature, several other Sestigers’ work was also

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translated. Some notable examples include Elsa Joubert, whose novel Die swerfjare van Poppie Nongena (1978), revealing a black woman’s suffering under apartheid, was translated into 13 languages. In 2002, this book was voted one of the top 100 most important books to be published in Africa in the twentieth century. Several other of Joubert’s works have been translated into English and Die reise van Isobelle (1995) was translated into German. Chris Barnard’s drama Die rebellie van Lafras Verwey (1971) was translated into five languages and three of his other works have been translated into languages including English, Dutch and German. Bartho Smit is known abroad for his plays, of which many were translated into English. His play Putsonderwater could not be performed in South Africa because of its depiction of interracial love, but was performed in Flemish translation in Belgium with great success. The English translation of Smit’s play Die verminktes won the Encyclopedia Britannica Award in 1960. Five of Etienne Leroux’s works have been translated into English, and many other Sestigers such as John Miles, Ingrid Jonker and Abraham de Vries have similarly had works translated mainly into English. Some non-Sestiger Afrikaans authors4 also attained literary success through translation during the apartheid years, although there were much fewer of these authors than there were acclaimed Sestigers. Translation was therefore an important resistant tactic for Sestiger authors. It enabled the release of dissident messages from within the South African system and allowed them to spread internationally across language barriers. Reigning ideologies, particularly in the West, prompted the acceptance of these messages in the target systems. The exposure of the evils of apartheid by these authors (which relates to informational selection) via the literary system threatened apartheid by provoking increased international public and even political resistance. It is difficult to determine what the actual effect of resistant translation may have been, but the apartheid government’s strict attitude towards the production of resistant literature indicates an awareness and acknowledgement of the potentially damaging effect of literature on its ability to carry out its oppressive policies, implying a significant offensive potential. Therefore, although the literary system operates based on the code of aesthetic versus non-aesthetic, its social function clearly extends beyond

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entertainment and it has been shown to be an important marker of cultural prestige and, in this case, a significant avenue for the release of social critique. This social function is further elaborated in the following chapter. Whereas literary translation from Afrikaans into English took place locally, translation systems in the environment were responsible for mediation of this literature, mostly via English, across linguistic barriers in the environment. Translation into languages other than English, and perhaps Dutch, therefore required a twofold mediation process. In this regard, the local function of translation can be described as preparing messages for environmental dissemination by converting them into the medium of English. Translation into English thus facilitated structural coupling with foreign literary systems. The reception of South African literature abroad was conditioned by reigning and ideologies in those systems. Popular ideologies of freedom, equality and democracy, especially in Western societies, motivated selection of Sestiger literature for translation. Reasons for the prevalence of these ideologies are complex and manifold, but generally relate to post-World War II geopolitics. However, the literary merit of these works was also a significant determining factor for selection (keeping in mind the binary code of literary systems), especially with larger publishing houses as opposed to smaller avant-garde publishers (Steyn 2015). Politically resistant content and literary quality therefore both served as selection criteria in most foreign systems and stimulated the opening of international literary systems to local literature. Yet, paradoxical racial imbalances and prejudices were also seen in the publishing of South African literature abroad, as is discussed under the next heading. It is interesting that certain prominent Sestigers were not only involved in translation from Afrikaans but also into Afrikaans, and with this I come to the aforementioned digression. While Sestiger translational exports were often overtly resistant and overwhelmingly politically themed, translational imports into Afrikaans, also often associated with Sestiger authors, consisted mostly of non-political, acclaimed and canonised Western literature and even children’s literature. Some examples (including just a selection of Brink’s translations) are Mark Twain’s The adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Lewis Carroll’s The adventures of Alice in Wonderland , Miguel de Cervantes’s Don Quixote, stories from

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the Arabian nights collection, Charles Perrault’s Tales of Mother Goose, Pamela Travers’s Mary Poppins in Cherry Tree Lane, Roger Green’s King Arthur and his Nights of the round table, Hans Christian Andersen’s The nightingale, Charles Perrault’s Puss in Boots, William Shakespeare’s Richard III , Kenneth Grahame’s The wind in the willows, etc. Against the background already provided, the inability to import literature that contradicted apartheid ideology is obvious. Censorship constrained translation’s permeability in this case and conditioned its filtering to allow only the absorption of compatible or non-challenging literature. Yet, this causes one to wonder why resistant authors would translate into Afrikaans at all. Leti Kleyn’s brief overview of twentieth-century South African translation from the publishing perspective (Kleyn 2013) alludes to the opening function that translation of classic world literature into Afrikaans fulfilled. She quotes Britz (1999: 13), who states the following (translated from Afrikaans): It was especially the Sestigers who, with translations, built a basis upon which the entire modern Afrikaans literature could develop further. Almost every important Sestiger translated […]. Translations, along with the emulating of contemporary European trends, had to break through the “genial local realism” which reimpregnated Afrikaans literature of old, but also isolated it within a limited local space.

Therefore, the translation of foreign literature by certain Sestigers was part of their attempts at affecting literary renewal and freeing Afrikaans literature from isolation and self-obsession and was therefore an attempt at literary rejuvenation rather than outspoken political rebellion. However, the desire to boost the status of Afrikaans literature through translation of internationally acclaimed works was a desire that overlapped with the motivations of Afrikaner nationalists. Therefore, even conservative nationalistic bodies, such as the state-controlled publisher Afrikaanse Pers Boekhandel, embraced such translation. For this reason, early reliance of Afrikaans literature on translations of foreign works turned into a literary tradition which was particularly strong during the 1960s. Between 1958 and 1965, the proportion of translated Afrikaans literature had risen to almost 40% of the total literary

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corpus, with 254 out of a total of 894 titles published during this period being translations (Kleyn 2013: 44). Several publishers published series of translations, such as the Juweel -novelles by Nasionale Pers, A.P.B.wêreldboeke by Afrikaanse Pers Boekhandel, several Shakespeare dramas by H.A.U.M, the Poësie uit verre lande series by Perskor (Kleyn 2013: 120) and Van Schaik’s Libri classic youth literature series. A look at the winners of the translation prize awarded by the South African Academy for Science and Art for translation into Afrikaans shows that classic literature was not only translated, but also acknowledged during the apartheid years. Winning translations included translations of works by Euripides, Sophocles, Aristotle, Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Goethe and Molière (SAAWK 2017) indicating the calibre of literature that attracted acclaim. In order to more specifically determine the complex power relations at work in this translation trend during apartheid, Bartho Smit’s involvement in literary importation is briefly investigated. Space constraints unfortunately do not allow discussion of Uys Krige and André P. Brink’s significant contributions to literary importation and the complex power dynamics it involved, and the importance of these two resistant authors as prolific translators of world literature into Afrikaans is simply acknowledged to indicate that Bartho Smit’s case was not unique. The case of Bartho Smit (1924–1987) is particularly interesting, however, for its position directly at the intersection of activist and nationalistic interests. Smit translated classic works and commissioned translations of world literature as editor of the publishing house Afrikaanse Pers Boekhandel, later Afrikaanse Pers Beperk (APB). Smit’s position as editor from the early 1960s was somewhat ironic, as the APB was a very conservative publisher, especially during the 1960s, with Prime Minister Hendrik Verwoerd, the so-called architect of apartheid, serving as chairperson of the board, while Smit, known as the father of the Sestigers, was the mostbanned Afrikaans playwright. Smit’s intentions differed vastly from those of the directors of the APB, as he sought to make room for the emerging generation of avant-garde Afrikaans writers, some of whom the government wished to silence. He also strongly resisted literary censorship, which the government would enforce with increasing severity. The APB

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under Smit’s editorship was therefore a site of struggle between conservativism and revolutionary literary ideals and this struggle eventually caused Smit to resign. Concerning Smit’s own translation practices, he most notably produced translations of acclaimed Western dramas into Afrikaans of which 11 were published in a five-part collection in 1984 called Bartho Smit vertalings, for which he received the South African Academy for Science and Art’s translation prize (Terblanche 2015). Of these translations, 10 were performed in South African theatres between 1958 and 1979 (ibid.) and their skilful introduction of some of the most acclaimed theatre performances to the Afrikaans public has been applauded (ibid.). Among his translations, including non-drama translations, are translations of Johanna Spyri’s Heidi, two works by Friedrich Dürrenmatt, three works by Eugène Ionesco, Molière’s Scapin the schemer, Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s A gentle creature, Emmanuel Roblés’s Montserrat, Gert Hofmann’s Der Bürgermeister, two works by August Strindberg, Jean Anouilh’s Becket, or the honour of God and William Inge’s Come back little Sheba. Although such translations, as part of the massive stream of Western works into the Afrikaans language, did contribute to the broadening and development of Afrikaans literature through the absorption of information from the environment, two major factors, besides the obvious limitation of censorship, detract from the full opening potential of translation (from a second-order observer’s perspective). The first is the Western bias in the translations commissioned or produced during this time. Although this selection reflected the linguistic repertoire of Afrikaans translators and cultural-historic ties with the West, which were partially innocent or self-evident, the promotion of Western culture also overlapped with Afrikaner nationalist intentions to emphasise Afrikaans’ European heritage in a way that promoted racial supremacy. The only significant exception to this Western trend is the translation of Nigerian author Chinua Achebe’s Things fall apart (1958) into Afrikaans by Chris Barnard under Bartho Smit at Perskor as’n Pad loop dood (1964). Therefore, although Western literary translation may have rescued Afrikaans literature from its localism and facilitated structural coupling with the environment, translation’s permeability only displayed openness towards

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the West, which perpetuated a sense of European elitism in contradiction with a more inclusive democratic spirit that might have filtered in a broader range of local and world literatures. The second undermining factor was the generally marginalised status of translations, which was a consequence of ideology. Very little mention has been made of twentieth-century literary translation into Afrikaans in academic writing, with the attention falling overwhelmingly on translational exports. Franci Vosloo (2010) attributes this neglect to the marginal status of translated literature in comparison with original literature within the Afrikaans literary canon. Vosloo (2010: 58) claims that both nationalistic and resistant thematic preoccupation in Afrikaans literature prevented translated literature representing other themes and genres from penetrating the centre of the literary system (employing a Polysystem perspective). Stated in terms of SST, this means that the constraint of nationalistic and resistant ideologies prevented other themes from influencing the literary system’s self-reflection and from affecting the further self-reproduction of the literary system. These ideologies therefore determined the form of communicative reproduction. While Kleyn (2013: 127–128) asserts Even-Zohar’s view that translations do not necessarily fulfil merely a marginal role in a particular literary system, she does acknowledge that translations may, and did, in this case, become “unappreciated, unread and out of print”, in reference to Venuti. As an example of the latter, she refers to the pulping of Uys Krige’s award-winning translations of Federico Lorca’s poetry (Kleyn 2013: 128). This implies that translation into Afrikaans was not as effective as a systemic irritant as translation from Afrikaans, which was more consequential in both literary and political terms.

Translation and English Resistant Literature Accompanying the outbound current of Afrikaans resistant literature was an even larger stream of English resistant literature, which was both directly absorbed by environmental systems and mediated via translation. This trend of English language literary exportation was also dominated by certain key figures, among which Nadine Gordimer and J. M. Coetzee

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were the most significant. Before discussing these and other authors and the conditions that determined the reception of their literature in translation, it is necessary to briefly explain the absence of resistant literature in the African languages and black authors’ choice to write in English. Nhlanhla Maake (2015: 14) laments the situation during apartheid whereby black authors either wrote exclusively in English or indigenous languages, attributing it to “narrow ethnocentricity or conservative nationalism, which allow[ed] no hybridity of any form”. But there were several practical justifications for the preference for English among black resistant authors, who found themselves in a situation very different from that of Afrikaans resistant authors. In the case of Afrikaans literature, initial government leniency towards “its own authors” made it easier for dissident Afrikaans authors to establish a practice of producing resistant literature in Afrikaans. In addition, the fact that resistant literature was written in a language associated with oppression made the act of resistance more scathing and more strategic. Regarding the latter, resistant writing in Afrikaans represented an attempt at undoing the oppressive stigma associated with Afrikaans. In addition, Afrikaans publications which escaped banning potentially had a large readership, given the privileged position of the Afrikaans public. Publishing resistant literature in an African language was neither as easy nor as strategic. Alet Kruger (2012: 286) believes that writing in an African language during apartheid involved “playing into the hands of the government and its divisive policy that sought to break up the black majority into smaller ethnic groups” (ibid.) and she therefore sees the unifying use of English as very tactical. Kruger (2012: 286) sees indigenous language writing, especially for use in schools under Bantu education, as having been mainly financially motivated and performed by authors willing to comply with apartheid authorities in order to have their (to her mind second-rate) books published. Furthermore, publication in English abroad allowed black authors to circumvent censorship and reach an international audience. While these reasons certainly justify the preference for English in black resistant writing, indigenous language writing may also support resistant ideologies, especially given the developmental and elevating effect of writing in the indigenous languages on those languages, as has been shown. There are certainly scholars who would argue for the literary

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promotion of the indigenous languages in resistant contexts as an important anti-colonial statement and assertion of black identity. Nevertheless, given the stringency of censorship measures and the severe limitation of socio-economic and political conditions, black resistant authors under apartheid would rather write in English than not have an audience for their writing. Nadine Gordimer (1923–2014) was South Africa’s most translated resistant author during apartheid and a Nobel literature prize laureate. She showed a high degree of political involvement, yet critics have praised her for her ability to combine activism with high quality literature, and her literary achievements have been said to complement rather than dominate her role as an activist. Her activism was not restricted to writing and included involvement in the African National Congress, speeches, protests and criticism against censorship (as many of her books were banned under apartheid). She housed ANC leaders in her home that they might escape arrest, helped Nelson Mandela edit his “I am prepared to die” speech and testified on behalf of anti-apartheid activists at the 1986 Delmas treason trial. Her oeuvre is rather extensive, as she wrote novels, short stories, one play and essays, but her most translated works are her novels, including The lying days (1953), A world of strangers (1958), Occasion for loving (1963), The late bourgeois world (1966), A guest of honour (1970), The conservationist (1974), Burger’s daughter (1979), July’s people (1981), A sport of nature (1987) and My son’s story (1990). The Index Translationum lists a massive 408 records of translations of her work, of which the majority (234) were published before 1994. She has been translated into more than 30 languages, including some comparatively unusual target languages such as Bengali, Yiddish and Macedonian. Her post-apartheid novels also attained success and were broadly translated. In comparison with Gordimer, the stance of fellow Nobel literature prize laureate John Maxwell Coetzee (1940–) as an activist-writer is more ambiguous. Although five of his 11 novels are set in South Africa and deal explicitly with post-colonial and apartheid themes, such as “colonial discourse, the other, racial segregation, censorship, banning and exile, police brutality and torture, South African liberalism and revolutionary activism, the place of women, the relationship of South Africa’s

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peoples to the land […]” (Poyner 2009: 1), Coetzee is not considered, and does not consider himself, a political author and has in fact been criticised for political evasion. Nevertheless, through his indirect references to apartheid (which ensured that none of his books were banned) Coetzee nonetheless contributed to resistant discourse. Coetzee’s oeuvre is not limited to the apartheid period and, in fact, the large majority of the translations of his work were published after apartheid. Nevertheless, his impact as a resistant author was most significant during this period, not long after which he moved to Australia. Thus, Coetzee’s importance as a South African author is concentrated around his earlier writing career and concerns novels such as In the heart of the country (1977), Waiting for the barbarians (1980), The life and times of Michael K (1983), Foe (1986) and Age of iron (1990). Like Gordimer, Coetzee’s work had an incredible reach in translation. A search on the Index Translationum identifies 61 translations of his work published during apartheid (out of 453 translated publications in total). Coetzee’s work has been translated into European languages, Slavic languages, Middle Eastern languages and Asian languages, also exceeding 30 in total. Two other resistant authors who contributed significantly to the export of dissident messages are Alan Paton and Athol Fugard. Paton founded the Liberal Party of South Africa in order to oppose apartheid and is most known for his novel Cry, the beloved country (1948). There are 36 translation records for Paton on the Index Translationum, and not only his magnum opus, but several other of his works have been translated into languages including European languages, Japanese, Hebrew, Turkish and Arabic. Fugard is a widely translated activist playwright with 35 records on the Index Translationum. Fugard’s open support of the anti-apartheid theatre boycotts led to police surveillance and restrictions, causing him to publish his plays abroad. The spectrum of languages into which Fugard’s work has been translated is broader than Paton’s and includes, besides the popular European languages, several Eastern European languages and Korean. While most authors who were widely translated during apartheid were activist authors, there were also some non-activist authors who attained renown abroad through translation. The most striking example is the

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historical fiction writer Wilbur Smith, whose writing has been translated into 23 different languages and for whom there are an incredible 1246 records on the Index Translationum (of which 505 appeared during the period in question). While Smith’s contribution to literary export is massive, in terms of literary and social characterisation, his work is significantly different from his activist contemporaries and it represents an exception to the norm because of its popular nature, being aimed at a broad audience and marketed for commercial reasons by foreign publishers, rather than for “high literary” purposes directed by social consciousness. The translated work of Laurens van der Post is similar in this regard, and it included, besides novels, travel writing, folklore and political and psychological non-fiction. Although Van der Post’s work was written during apartheid (with the exception of his memoir), only around 20 of the 63 translations recorded on the Index Translationum were published during apartheid. The fact that no black authors feature among the most translated South African authors was not only a consequence of the suppression of black writing within the South African system. Jean-Pierre Richard (2005: 39) exposes great imbalances with regard to African literature in the German and French literary systems (among the most popular destinations for South African translations) between 1945 and 2004 which indicate sociopolitical reasons for this situation in the receptor countries. Richard (2005: 41) points out that white authors were represented disproportionately to the demographic reality in these countries by showing that between 1945 and 2004, one-third of all South African literature translated into German stemmed from just seven white South African authors, while in the French publishing sector, the proportion of white authors within the total South African translational output constituted two-thirds of the total. In Germany, the “white quartet” (Coetzee, Gordimer, Brink and Breytenbach) contributed around 20% of the total South African translational output, but in France, these authors were responsible for 50% of the total South African translations. Richard believes there is more to this than literary excellence and claims that a political alliance between France and South Africa (i.e. political conditioning) was responsible for this so-called blackout in France, in addition to French publishers’ wariness of short stories, drama and poetry, which

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were the preferred genres of black South African authors in the 1950s and 1970s (ibid.). The German publishing situation was not constrained by similarly blatant political conditioning and Richard provides other more general political/ideological reasons for the filtering out of black authors in translation’s selective behaviour, which might be more broadly applicable to European receptor societies. He explains that European literary interest in Africa had been sparked when the wave of African independence took place and with the Negritude movement, but that Europe began to lose interest in Africa during the latter 1960s and the 1970s, when Africans became disillusioned with their new governments (Richard 2005: 42). But what exactly accounted for the relative lack of interest in Africa apart from political reasons and literary “fads” and the preference for white African authors? Richard does not provide an explanation, but ethnic discrimination seems to be suggested. This ironic disjunction in terms of the type of literature systems filter in versus the racial profile of the selected authors draws the depth of democratic and egalitarian ideology in Western systems in this period into question. Despite the dominance of white authors, the work of number of black South African authors5 was able to penetrate into foreign literary systems through translation. One black resistant author, who is said to have sparked international interest in African literature with his novel Mine boy (1946), dealing with the atrocities of racial segregation and oppression in South Africa, is Peter Abrahams. Abrahams’s work was broadly translated during the apartheid period. Six of his books were translated into German, and other works, including Mine boy, The Path of thunder (1948), Tell freedom (1954) and A wreath for Udomo (1956), were translated into 11 languages in total. Es’kia Mpahlele is another black resistant author who has had at least one work, the novel Down Second Avenue (1959), widely translated. This novel, which depicts the black experience under apartheid from the perspective of his personal struggle, was translated into ten European languages, Japanese and Hebrew. Some of his work has also been translated into French in a collection of the French Dapper Foundation. Miriam Tlali was the first black woman to have a novel published in South Africa and her work has enjoyed some attention in translation. The novel Muriel at metropolitan (1975) was banned four years after local publication, but was published abroad. Tlali’s second

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novel Amandla (1980) was banned only two weeks after it was released, but was also published abroad. In total, there are 11 records for Tlali on the Index Translationum before 1994, and she has been translated into Dutch, German, Turkish, Polish and Japanese. Former Drum journalist Lewis Nkosi’s novel Mating birds (1986) was also banned under apartheid for its depiction of an interracial affair and was translated into 10 European languages. The locally banned anthology The Soweto I love (1975) and two novels, The root is one (1979) and A ride on the whirlwind (1981) by Sipho Sepamla, an active member of the Black Consciousness movement, were also translated. The anthology was translated into German and the two novels into French, Dutch and Italian. Other black authors who have been translated include Njabulo Ndebele, whose Fools and other stories (1983) has been translated into Japanese and French and Richard Rive, whose Emergency (1964) has been translated into Dutch, Russian and Slovenian, and whose Buckingham Palace District Six (1986) has been translated into French, German and Spanish. Furthermore, Dennis Brutus’s China poems (1975) was translated into Chinese. Although the number of black authors who have been translated is substantial, none of these authors attained the status that certain of the Afrikaans and white English authors did. The trends in outbound translation are therefore similar in the Afrikaans and English literary contexts in that a few authors dominated the translation scene, while several other authors contributed to a much smaller extent. The total number of internationally translated literary works from South Africa during this period is significant, both in the context of the marginality of African literature in general, and in comparison with previous translation trends. This indicates that South Africa was producing literary stimuli that were able to attract resonance at a rate that had not been seen previously. The ideological climate, mainly in the West, allowed this large-scale permeation of South African literature. And while literary systems may have ironically displayed a degree of racial preference, the popularity of (perhaps shallow) liberal egalitarian ideologies in these systems certainly motivated the embrace of resistant South African literature through translation. In terms of power relations, this outward tide of translation represents the largest political offensive attained by means of translation in South African history. The extent of

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this resistant action was a reaction to the increasingly oppressive political domination exercised by the apartheid government (a political stimulus) and it reflected both the build-up of resistant power within South African society and the resonance of resistant messages within foreign societies.

6.5

Conclusion

The apartheid era arguably displayed the most vigorous employment of translation as an instrument of social power yet. This chapter uncovered very strategic uses of translation in relation to both oppression and resistance. Translation’s centring around combative social politics and its further systematisation mirrored social structures and dynamics in latter twentieth-century South Africa. Opposing ideologies engendered by society’s severely stratified nature played a significant role in translation’s selective behaviour and ideology even stimulated its systematisation. The following chapter indicates translation’s settling into a less polarised situation after the relative easing of social pressure. Although expressive of new power imbalances, translation’s present employment in the post-apartheid era does not match its prior use and in a certain sense, its power seems to have been overlooked. Therefore, the apartheid era represented the peak of translation’s social employment in both negative and positive ways.

Notes 1. Post-apartheid South Africa is non-racial in the sense that all citizens possess the same basic rights regardless of race, culture or ethnicity. However, some may debate this designation due to economic reform measures such as Broad-Based Black Economic Empowerment or affirmative action which currently disadvantage white citizens. Although these reforms do potentially hinder the classification of South Africa as completely non-racial, their temporal, reformative nature should be recognised. 2. I simply refer to this body as the Translation Bureau throughout.

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3. It should be noted that translation into the African languages had already been inspired politically in the first half of the twentieth century, most notably in government propaganda during World War II, which was aimed at encouraging black people to enlist in the army and had an additional pacifying intention amid resistance to racial discrimination. Translation in this case was mainly employed in radio broadcasts and films, however, with limited expression in written translation and was therefore not discussed in the previous chapter. Wiederroth (2012) and Monama (2014) can be consulted for further information on this very interesting topic. 4. The most well-known exception is Dalene Matthee, whose novels have been translated into 14 languages. 5. It would have been preferable to discuss all the English resistant authors together and to not have to resort to racial categorisation. This approach was nevertheless taken in line with translation trends and reflects distinctions in the popularity of translations based on racial bias rather than literary or other categorisation.

References Beukes, A.-M. (2007). Governmentality and the good offices of translation in 20th century South Africa. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 25 (2), 115–130. Britz, E. (1999, March 22). Van Coller verrig ’n reuse taak. Volksblad , p. 6. Gerard, A. (1981). African language literatures: An introduction to the literary history of Sub-Saharan Africa. Harlow: Longman. Giliomee, H. (2012). The last Afrikaner leaders: A supreme test of power. Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press. Hermanson, E. A. (2002). A brief overview of Bible translation in South Africa. Acta Theologica, 2, 6–18. Khunou, S. F. (2009). Traditional leadership and independent Bantustans of South Africa: Some milestones of transformative constitutionalism beyond apartheid. Potchefstroomse Elektroniese Regsblad, 12(4), 81–122. Kleyn, L. (2013). ’n Sisteemteoretiese kartering van die Afrikaans literatuur van die tydperk 2000–2009: Kanonisering van die Afrikaanse literatuur. Unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Pretoria, Pretoria, South Africa.

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Kruger, A. (2012). Translation, self-translation and apartheid-imposed conflict. Journal of Language and Politics, 11(2), 273–292. Liebenberg, A. (1998). André P. Brink (1935–). In H. P. Van Coller (Ed.), Perspektief en profiel: ’n Afrikaanse literatuurgeskiedenis (pp. 316–329). Pretoria: Van Schaik. Maake, N. (2000). Publishing and perishing: Books, people and reading in African languages in South Africa. In N. Evans & M. Seeber (Eds.), The politics of publishing in South Africa (pp. 127–159). London: Holger Ehling Publishing. Maake, N. (2015). Negotiating ironies and paradoxes of mother tongue education: An introspective and retrospective reflection. South African Journal of African Languages, 35 (1), 11–17. Möller, J. (2014). Multilingual publishing: An investigation into access to trade books through the eleven official languages in South Africa. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of Pretoria, Pretoria, South Africa. Monama, F. L. (2014). Wartime propaganda in the Union of South Africa, 1939–1945. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of Stellenbosch, Stellenbosch, South Africa. Mpe, P., & Seeber, M. (2000). The politics of book publishing in SA: A critical overview. In N. Evans & M. Seeber (Eds.), The politics of publishing in South Africa (pp. 15–42). London: Holger Ehling. Mwepu, D. N. (2008). Government’s contribution to the development of translation in South Africa (1910–1977). Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 26 (1), 87–96. Naudé, J. A. (2001). The Afrikaans Bible translations and apartheid. Acta Theologica, 21(1), 106–123. Naudé, J. A. (2011). From submissiveness to agency: An overview of developments in translation studies and some implications for language practice in Africa. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 29 (3), 223–241. Ntuli, D. B., & Swanepoel, C. F. (1993). Southern African literature in African languages: A concise historical perspective. Pretoria: Acacia. Poyner, J. (2009). J. M. Coetzee and the paradox of post-colonial authorship. Farnham: Ashgate. Richard, J.-P. (2005). Translation of African literature: A German model? In J.P. Richard (Ed.), Translation—transnation (1994–2004): Ten years of literary exchange between South Africa and France (IFSAS Working paper series, no. 6) (pp. 39–44). HAL open access archive: hal-00797996.

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SAAWK (Suid-Afrikaanse Akademie vir Wetenskap en Kuns). (2017). Akademiepryse sedert 1909. http://www.akademie.co.za/akademiepryse_s edert_1909.htm. Accessed 7 August 2017. Steyn, J. (2015). Van doekvoet na eendvoet: die vertalings van Afrikaanse romans in Frans. LitNet Akademies, 12(1), 106–130. Terblanche, E. (2015). André P. Brink (1935–2015). http://www.litnet.co.za/ andr-p-brink-1935/. Accessed 12 February 2018. Vosloo, F. A. (2010). Om te skryf deur te vertaal en te vertaal deur te skryf: Antjie Krog as skrywer/vertaler. Unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Stellenbosch, Stellenbosch, South Africa. Wiederroth, N. (2012). Radio broadcasting for blacks during the Second World War: “It could be dangerous…” Historia, 57 (2), 11–28.

7 Recession—Transformation?

Although from a political perspective the current chapter seems to introduce a positive change in events, and in certain respects it certainly does, the fact that democratic South African society has failed to achieve widespread social reform has resulted in a disappointing similarity in social characterisation between apartheid and post-apartheid South African society. The following statement by Anne-Marie Beukes (2006: 1) implies that the current state of translation in South Africa mirrors this general non-realisation of social equality: [T]he politics of transmission in post-apartheid South Africa have failed the nation-building project. Government’s language-planning agencies have failed to establish routinised translation practices and have thus failed to foster a culture of translation. As a result, translation’s pivotal developmental function has been neglected, which has contributed to the shrinking socio-cultural domains in which indigenous languages are used.

Translation’s failure to realise linguistic equality and social inclusion is symptomatic ideologies that have replaced apartheid ideology in the © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_7

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perpetuation of oppressive power relations. Shortly before the abandoning of apartheid, Colin Stoneman and John Suckling (1987: 515) augured the current state of affairs as follows: Within the next decade the South African apartheid system will join German nazism and Italian fascism in the history books. […] But what is the mainstream that South Africa will return to or join? Will it be liberal capitalism in its current international form […]? If so, the operation of ‘the imperialism of free trade’ will bring most of South Africa’s population into the same condition of exploitation as the majority of the Third World’s masses; except for the rising bourgeoisie, the presently exploited will continue to be exploited, but there will no longer be an identifiable enemy to fight. Instead the enemy will be abstractions like ‘market forces’, ‘international capitalism’, or ‘neocapitalism’.

This very aptly describes the current state of South African society after the assumption of rule by the ANC. In effect, the former South African resistance movement has morphed from “a popular nationalist anti-apartheid project to official neoliberalism” (Bond 2014: 1), with neoliberalism referring to “adherence to free market economic principles bolstered by the narrowest practical definition of democracy (not the radical participatory project many ANC cadre had expected)” (ibid.). This implies that in spite of the instatement of a democratic government and the promotion of democratic ideals, South African society in the current era (1994–) still displays severe social asymmetry. This chapter focuses on the ways in which translation practices have failed to bring about necessary changes in society due to the influence of neoliberal ideologies on the one hand and so-called Static Maintenance Syndrome on the other. It also recognises the few attempts at employing translation transformatively and considers how translation could or should function to bring about linguistic reform amid the continuation of linguistic social exclusion. Social systems theory (SST) does not easily allow such consideration of ideals due to its de-emphasis of human agency focus on structure and, within the boundaries of SST, this deliberation therefore focuses on identifying constraints upon translation’s ideal operation which have to be overcome rather than involving call to activism.1

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In its consideration of translation particularly in relation to the political, literary and educational systems, this chapter resembles the previous two chapters. While translation is currently employed by other systems, the above-mentioned systems still most clearly reflect written translation’s relationship with power relations and ideology. Social characterisation from the perspective of functional differentiation also remains similar to descriptions in the previous chapter and the sketch of society to follow therefore focuses on historical contextualisation and the position of language barriers within South African society, rather than descriptions of functional differentiation, etc. Translation practices continue their operation within the translation system, even though translation’s characteristics as a system are not emphasised due to the absence of significant changes and an emphasis on translation’s mediatory function rather than its systemic characteristics.

7.1

Historical Background and Societal Character

In the previous chapter, the ebb of apartheid ideology and the spread of egalitarian ideologies towards the end of the twentieth century were pointed out. Extreme internal and external pressure forced the National Party under President F.W. de Klerk to forsake its policy of apartheid in 1991 and a remarkably peaceful transition to an inclusive democracy took place, sealed with the first (truly) democratic elections in 1994 during which Nelson Mandela was elected president. This transition brought about a so-called new South African era in which there were attempts at correcting many of the social imbalances and injustices of the previous dispensation through political reform. The new South African Constitution (1996) sought to ensure equal opportunities and equal treatment for all South Africans under the law and these attempts were initially met with positive expectations of a “rainbow nation”, in which all races co-exist peacefully and enjoy equal opportunities. But, as has been mentioned, social reform has been disappointing, and like many other de-colonised African states, South Africa has been quelled by

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corruption, lack of service delivery, land reform issues and major shortcomings in education, to name just a few major problems. Furthermore, economic reforms, even when enforced legally by affirmative action and other measures, have only benefitted a small percentage of those who suffered oppression during apartheid. The majority of black people remain in an economically oppressed situation while the white middle class has to a large extent managed to retain its privileged social position. Rotich et al. (2015: 141) explain the similarity between apartheid and post-apartheid social structure as follows: Ideologically, the transfer of political power to the ruling Black elite has done little to tilt the scales in the economic and the labour situation of the country. Piecemeal reforms have been wholly inadequate for the Black worker. […] Consequently, by the time apartheid ended in the early 1990s, the white population, in general, had substantial economic power, and the transition did not substantially affect their economy (Giliomee, 1992). Economically, the kind and nature of work, and the wages accruing from it, often reflect class and racial differences. This means that the different classes provide different forms of labour, in which its cost is paid up on the basis of race and other factors such as education (which still racially defines the job cadres).

Thus, although society is no longer racially segregated and stratified from a legal perspective, given the lack of social and economic reform, racial stratification has largely remained intact.2 The social situation in democratic South Africa thus still displays a primary structure based on functional differentiation within which economic and race-based stratification exists. There have been some minor changes at the level of stratification, however, since there have been possibilities for upward mobility for a relatively small group of previously disadvantaged people. The top economic stratum is now accessible to the non-white political elite and business owners, while there is also a rising middle class of non-white South Africans. Therefore, previously disadvantaged races have been able to penetrate the middle and upper social strata, but the rate of this penetration has been slow. The insignificant extent of racial “dehierarchisation” is somewhat ironic, given the voting power of the

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black majority, which seems to indicate that democracy does not necessarily offer a solution to rectifying social asymmetry in this case. This means that in spite of significant constitutional reform, South African society has retained a similar appearance with regard to class distribution and hierarchical structure. But what is the connection between the still racially and economically stratified social order just highlighted and the position of intelligibility barriers? The following description of language policy reforms provides some explanation. The 1996 Constitution granted official status to 11 South African languages, including the former official languages, English and Afrikaans, and nine Bantu languages. It is clear that such a move would entail serious implementation difficulty, given the large number of official languages and the comparatively low degree of functional development of the Bantu languages. Significant drive and incentive would be required to successfully carry out such a language policy and it is not terribly surprising that the South African government has been lax in monitoring and enforcing the use of the official languages, resulting in what Stephen May (2003: 35) calls “resigned language realism”. This linguistic “pragmatism” has effectively entailed Anglicism at the expense of the indigenous languages and Afrikaans, not only in the communication of the political system, but also in the many other social systems which it affects through structural coupling. Pinkie Phaahla (2006: 142) states: “It seems now that what really happened after 1994 is that most higher education institutions, parastatals, statutory bodies and some industries, irrespective of what their language policies prescribe, have shifted from bilingualism towards monolingualism”. The fact that English is not a widespread lingua franca as is often assumed (Kruger et al. 2007: 36) makes its use as a de facto official language very problematic. This allows those who possess an adequate command of English social mobility, while socially excluding or marginalising those who do not. In other words, it facilitates a process of what Myers-Scotton (1993: 149) refers to as “elite closure”, whereby social inequalities are maintained through language. Determining the percentage of South Africans who are literate in English is difficult, but enough indications exist to suggest that the proportion is very low. As far as first language speakers are concerned,

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English is only the fourth largest home language in South Africa and is spoken as a mother tongue by under 10% of the population. Statistics for additional language knowledge of English show that English is only the second most commonly spoken language outside the household after Zulu, with 16.6% of the population indicating use outside the household in the most recent household survey (StatsSA 2018: 8). Moreover, additional language use of English in particular does not necessarily reflect English literacy to an extent that allows adequate social functioning. For this reason, the term functional literacy is contrasted with oral competency to describe people’s ability to participate in social sectors which require literacy for effective social operation. In Africa, the distinction between these types of language aptitude appears to be particularly marked. Kwesi Kwaa Prah (2009: 259) goes as far as stating that, generally, Africans’ language command is mainly oral with “little or hardly any bases in literacy”. Despite being prevalent, the multilingualism of Africans is said to be one that “suffers from all the debilities of orality as opposed to literacy” (ibid.). This discrepancy is identified by Zubeida Desai (2016) in the South African context in particular, where it is attributed to historically inherited educational shortcomings, particularly in low-income area schools, which currently account for more than 80% of South African schools. Desai explains that although English is officially the medium of instruction in such schools from at least the fourth grade, mother tongues are commonly used in spoken educational interaction due to low levels of English competency. English medium school instruction therefore by no means ensures functional English literacy and may in fact be an educational impediment (Desai 2016; Posel and Casale 2011). Reports of deficient English literacy as a major contributor to poor student performance at South African universities (Van Rooy and Coetzee-Van Rooy 2015) further reinforce the applicability of the orality versus functional literacy distinction to South African conditions. There is much that can still be said regarding poor English literacy levels in South Africa, but the information provided suffices to indicate an inconsistency between the official language use and the languages effectively commanded by the majority of the participants in society. In further elaboration of the position of English in relation to the African languages in particular, Rajend Mesthrie (2015: 189) explains

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that “indigenous languages continue to be spoken in large numbers […] and held in high esteem as languages of community, intimacy and solidarity, though not necessarily as languages of aspiration – especially educational aspirations”. The African languages’ use, though prevailing, is limited to non-prestigious social functions, such as the domestic realm. The African languages thus serve as what may be called languages of identification rather than languages of higher function. Afrikaans can to a certain extent also be considered a language of identification, although significant differences exist between the position of Afrikaans and the official Bantu languages in society or certain of its subsystems. Afrikaans has indeed experienced a decline in functional use in favour of English since the new democratic dispensation and its use in politics, commerce, science, law, etc. has diminished. However, it still enjoys a relatively privileged position, especially in the literary, media and educational systems in comparison with the African languages. It has, in other words, managed to retain its strength mainly in cultural spheres and possesses significant economic value, to which the numerous Afrikaans publishers, arts festivals, high-profile schools, television channels and the recent boom in the Afrikaans film industry attest. This cultural employment finds stronger systemic manifestation than in the case of the African languages in terms not only of the degree of language representation in relation to the speaker population size, but also in terms of mode of expression. By the latter I mean that Afrikaans has a strong written presence—which is associated with prestige and is an important symbol of ethnic identity (Kruger et al. 2007: 45)—compared to the African languages’ weak written presence. Therefore, asymmetrical language statuses in post-apartheid South Africa still reflect a more privileged position of the former official languages of apartheid South Africa. Although there is a strong resemblance to the preceding societal language profile, one difference is that language policy does not purposefully determine linguistic exclusion. Rather, failure to carry out language policy and certain policy shortcomings now facilitate de facto rather than de jure status distinctions and, in return, language exclusion. Furthermore, retained class distinctions rather than legally enforced class

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distinctions allow participants in society different degrees of language expression potential in the cultural domains just mentioned. Language domains, therefore, unsurprisingly, continue to echo the apartheid social scenario. Although language policy suggests equal language recognition, English dominates and is a prerequisite for social mobility, with Afrikaans falling in an intermediary position, while the Bantu languages remain confined to use in lower social functions. Language status distinctions and low English literacy thus erect an intelligibility barrier between the middle and lower social strata and the question is how translation practices reflect these statuses (which we expect them to do) and how translation operates particularly upon internal language barriers and with what effect. In the discussions to follow, these questions are addressed. In terms of its expression of social status distinctions, translation’s operation between certain languages and in specific directions is considered. The prestige associated with specific function systems and the effect of their medium choices is also considered. In terms of its boundary position, translation’s absence upon internal language barriers and its inter-societal operation’s reflection of cultural relations are analysed. The most convenient way of considering all these relations in this case is according to the function systems which make use of the translation system, since this allows linguistic asymmetry to be consolidated within specific societal functions displaying different statuses.

7.2

Translation and the Political System

This section is devoted to translation’s dearth in the communication of the political system, particularly in relation to public service delivery. Translation’s absence can be seen as a form of selection, i.e. selecting silence or non-mediation over mediation. This absence reflects the status of English as a hegemonic language and the lower administrative status of all the other official languages. It displays the clearest evidence of linguistically determined social exclusion through a lack of translation practices and its relation to the stratified nature of South African society is therefore important.

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An overwhelming proportion of the literature that highlights shortcomings in government initiated translation relates to interpreting services,3 while very little literature has investigated written translation practices in this regard. This is presumably due to the fact that oral communication in state hospitals, pharmacies, courtrooms, police stations, etc. is often of a more urgent and immediate nature than written communication. This does not mean that written translation is unimportant, however, and basic government services such as issuing identification documents, passports or licences, providing social grants and a host of other services hinge on successful written communication. Anne-Marie Beukes (2006) provides a rare survey of written translation practices in local government and sketches a bleak situation characterised by understaffed language offices, a lack of translators, incorrect translation, English-only documentation and the closure of language offices. The fact that Beukes identifies such situations in prominent municipalities in large metropolitan areas implies an even worse situation in smaller and rural municipalities, which are typically plagued by corruption to an extent that even basic service delivery is often hindered. The South African government’s lack of language policy compliance (through translation) led to the High Court ruling in 2010 that national government had acted unconstitutionally by failing to regulate and monitor the use of the official languages, and the Minister of Arts and Culture was given two years to mend the situation. This did not happen. In 2011, SATI made a submission to the Portfolio Committee on Arts and Culture, voicing its discontent with the absence of the South African Languages Act and the South African Language Practitioners’ Council Act envisaged in government’s National Language Policy Framework (2003) and the National Language Policy Framework: Implementation Plan (2003). It criticised the government’s lack of provision of translation and interpreting services and infrastructure and accused it of marginalising the translation profession. In addition, it complained that the updated version of the proposed South African Languages Bill was unsuccessful and would not bring about sufficient language reform due to its stipulation that multilingual documentation need only be provided at the national level of government, whereas the

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need for multilingualism is most deeply felt at the local level. This situation has obvious implications regarding access, which SATI’s following statement (SATI 2011) encapsulates: [The South African Languages Bill] in effect fails to cascade multilingualism down to the level of greatest linguistic disempowerment, where local populations, owing to the de facto monolingualism (or at most the bilingualism of the old dispensation), can only interact to a very limited extent with the sphere of government with which they come into contact most.

In spite of SATI’s appeals, the failed version of this Bill was tabled as the Use of Official Languages Act in 2012. Kim Wallmach (2014: 575) shares SATI’s frustration with this legislation, explaining that the act does not promote multilingualism explicitly and does not stipulate guiding norms for language policy. She, in fact, believes that it was never the government’s intention to be bound by its language policy. This view echoes ideas voiced previously by Neville Alexander, who even drew the foundation of a South African democracy into question when he stated (in Mesthrie 2006: 154): The political class are disposed to the promotion of a unilingual, i.e. English-only language policy in the public service, even though most of them know that the majority of the ‘clients’ of the state are unable to access information by these means. This, naturally, has considerable implications for the viability of a democratic dispensation.

Alexander further provided an excellent summary of the discrepancy between what language policy claims to promote and the actual situation (ibid.): Language planning processes in South Africa today have a surrealistic aspect to them as a result of the tension that exists between what governing elites are obliged to do constitutionally and what they prefer to do based on their own interests and the convenience of inertia. On the one hand, there are extremely progressive and radical moves being planned. On the other hand, there is the never-ending chain

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of procedural impedimenta used by the bureaucracy in collusion with the political leaders to retard and obstruct the implementation of the language policy. In South Africa today, language planners are afforded a ringside seat at one of the most fascinating spectacles involving both political smoke-and-mirrors tricks and scholarly timidity.

Other scholars are less willing to acknowledge the presence of smokeand-mirrors, yet regardless of whether the neglect of translation as a means of facilitating access is conscious or not, the resultant social exclusion remains the same. The neglect of translation as a “powerful policy implementation resource” (Beukes 2006: 2) by the political system and shortcomings in policy related to translation in particular therefore facilitate the establishment of the hegemonic position of English. Although the political system has resisted the use translation in public service delivery, it has, ironically, been more successful at stimulating translation in certain other systems with which it is coupled through nationalisation, such as the media and educational systems. In the media system, it has ensured the presence of the official languages on radio and television much more successfully than in service delivery, perhaps influenced by the commodified nature of these services, although language asymmetry is still evident in the proportion of programming provided in English versus other languages (see Kruger et al. 2007; Van Rooyen 2011; Olivier 2011, for example). Media translation falls outside the scope of this book, but more successful educational translation practices are discussed in Sect. 7.4 of this chapter. The political system’s unwillingness to respond positively to its own policies in its direct communication in the form of public service delivery means that, in contrast to the previous era, language policy no longer yields the same power as it did as a stimulator of translation because of a discrepancy between policy and neoliberal ideology. Previously, ideology’s alignment with policy (in which policy served directly as an ideologeme) stimulated the very active employment of translation. Currently, whether consciously or not, translation is not ideologically supported, which leads to tension between legal provisions for multilingualism and actual language practices. In this case, shortcomings in policy and a failure to carry out policy serve as ideologemes rather than policies themselves.

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Ideological changes have thus weakened the constraining effect of the law on language practices and ideology seems to possess more potency than the law as a constraining factor on translation. The ability for the political system to “get away” with such practices is, in turn, allowed by the presence of ideological conditions in society regarding the status of the African languages in particular. With this I am referring to what Neville Alexander calls Static Maintenance Syndrome, an ideological “condition” which weakens the assertion of political will in relation to language. Alexander (2005: 2) describes this phenomenon as referring… to the fact that most Africans cherish their home or first languages (“mother tongues”) and maintain them with pride in the primary domains of language, i.e., in family, community, religious and elementary school contexts. They do not, however, believe that these languages are capable of becoming languages of power, i.e., dominant in what Sibayan and other Philippine sociolinguists call “the controlling domains of language” such as government administration, the formal economy, secondary and tertiary education.

This phenomenon clearly relates to the concept of languages of identification, mentioned earlier, and is a major enabler of government inertia. The historical position of the African languages has in turn allowed the prevalence of such ideas. In contrast with Afrikaans, the African languages have never enjoyed a high social status and this inferior position may have become accepted and perpetuated in systemic selfobservation, causing English to be acknowledged as a language of power in spite of widespread functional illiteracy in this language. Another possible cause may be the absence of a sense of cultural “threat” among Africans, which was shown to stimulate the need for cultural assertion via language in previous discussions. This perhaps accounts for the prevalence of different ideological views concerning Afrikaans, as is shown in relation to literary translation practices. A complex web of social stimuli has therefore brought about the problematic linguistic practices described in this section. The implication is that language practices are not easily altered and that ideology plays a

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very important role in the nature of language practices even to the extent that contradictions of the law are tolerated. Adjusting one variable (such as language policy) is not enough to effect significant change in social language practices in the present ideological climate. This should not dissuade those who promote linguistic inclusion, however. The intelligibility barrier which monolingual language practices erect has significant implications related to people’s basic survival in society and relates to what may be termed practical social exclusion, i.e. the accessibility of information and the implications for human survival. Translation and English literacy are the only two ways for human participants in society to cross this barrier, which makes both important enablers of social inclusion. Yet it is important to note that these two enablers do not allow the same degree of social participation. Large-scale employment of translation (written and spoken ideally) in public service delivery may facilitate basic linguistic participation in society, but, as long as English dominates in the prestigious spheres of society, as is likely to remain the case, social mobility, as opposed to survival, will require English literacy rather than increased translation. The shortcomings of translation as a solution to full practical participation in society should be acknowledged, therefore. This does not imply that there is no place for translation in public service delivery or prestigious social spheres, however. Amid the absence of English literacy or until it increases sufficiently, translation in public service delivery is a constitutional imperative and a prerequisite for basic social inclusion that must be insisted upon. Furthermore, to overlook the function of translation in enabling multilingualism in prestigious social spheres (including public service delivery) is to neglect the symbolic value of language visibility and a symbolic level of exclusion, which are expounded in sect. “Afrikaans”.

7.3

Translation and the Literary System

The literary system’s function as a locus of cultural power dynamics is again exhibited in this discussion of translation’s operation under the stimulation of the literary system. This section considers the way in which the power of English and Afrikaans continues to be manifested

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in the translation practices stimulated by the literary system, while the lower literary status of the African languages remains evident in the lack of translation. The implications regarding cultural relations and social transformation are also addressed. Since this section is rather lengthy, it is divided into sub-sections according to three language categories: English, Afrikaans and the Bantu languages.

English One piece of translational evidence of the strong position of English in the South African literary system is the degree of popularity still enjoyed by English South African literature in translation abroad. In this case, translation’s inter-societal mediatory function is therefore reflective of language status. The previous chapter indicated that apartheid created publicity for South African resistance authors and caused a boom in the translational export of politically themed South African literature. A “normalisation” in translational exports towards the late 1980s, characterised by a waning preoccupation with politically themed literature, can be observed in the exportation of both English and Afrikaans South African literature (Steyn 2015: 118). Between 1995 and 2014, Johanna Steyn (2015: 119) counts 380 South African literary works, mainly written in English, in French translation as evidence of the continuing strength of the tide of literary export from South Africa. The most popular English language authors since 1994 are still Wilbur Smith (with 741 records in the Index Translationum since 1994), J.M. Coetzee (with 391 records—although his designation as a South African author has since changed), Nadine Gordimer (with 174 records) and Laurens van der Post (with 37 records). Although the most translated English authors of the previous era have retained the largest share of the popularity in the democratic era, there is also a new generation of authors who have been translated for foreign audiences. Among these are crime novelist Mike Nicol, who gained popularity during the changeover period and has been translated into French, German, Finnish, Norwegian, Japanese, Danish, Portuguese and Swedish; Zakes Mda, whose plays have been translated into 12 foreign languages; and Damon Galgut, a playwright and novelist

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whose work has been translated into Swedish, Dutch, French, Latvian, German, Greek, Polish, Serbian and Russian. South African children’s writer and illustrator Niki Daly enjoys great popularity abroad and his books are most frequently translated into Swedish, Danish and Dutch, although they have also been translated into German and Japanese. Following these authors are Gillian Slovo, who has been translated into Dutch, French and German; Njabulo Ndebele, who has been translated into French, Swedish and Japanese; and Zoë Wicomb, who has been translated into Dutch, German, Swedish and French since the government changeover. Again, following these authors are a host of other English language writers who have had only one or two works translated. The continuing outbound trend of English South African literature in translation must be considered in relation to the popularity of English as a source language in translation internationally. The role of English as an international language and the widespread availability of translators working from English make it a popular and practical choice as a source language. English literature therefore provides a large spectrum of works from which literary systems may supplement local productions through translation. Theo Hermans (2009: 98) has explained the position of English with regard to translation as follows: In most Western European countries […] translations make up between twenty and forty percent of all published books, and up to seventy-five per cent of these translations are from English. The figures reflect the current economic, political and military dominance of the USA in the first instance, and the global weight of Anglophone culture more generally. The flow is overwhelmingly one-directional. In the English-speaking countries of the industrialised world, translations typically comprise under five per cent of published books.

The global position of English is still undisputed and has in fact increased with the exponential permeation of internet technology more recently. Although there is currently a growing trend towards nationalist politics and national insulation which challenges globalisation, it is doubtful whether any significant changes will be brought about in the dominance of English in the near future. Therefore, in terms solely

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of its language medium, the “exportability” of English South African literature is not terribly surprising. In the context of African literary translation internationally, linguistic asymmetry continues to be manifested in the continued domination of English as a source language (Richard 2005; Cantalupo 2016). But the selection of South African literature and the work of specific authors by foreign literary systems is of course conditioned by more than medium and other factors determine what constitutes so-called world literature, literature able to transcend regional borders. In the case of Gordimer and Coetzee, their consecration in world literary systems has been attributed to their status as activists and literary quality. Apartheid, activism and the South African political context arguably continue to influence the translatability of the works of Mda, Slovo, Wicomb and Ndebele. In Van der Post’s case, his personal profile is possibly an important selection criterion and his works do not centre around South African politics. In the case of other authors of popular literature, the marketability of their work on literary or aesthetic grounds overrides their personal profile. Scholars in the field of world literature generally emphasise the presence of universal characteristics as opposed to localism in the acceptance of literature by world literary systems. Universal appeal and general “consumability” indeed seem to be present with the widely translated authors of popular literature mentioned such as Wilbur Smith, Mike Nicol and Niki Daly. These works are therefore not only easily translatable by virtue of being written in English, but are inter-culturally consumable. The status of English is also demonstrated by translation’s operation domestically, where English is a popular donor language, as is shown in the discussions to follow.

Afrikaans Afrikaans literary translation trends demonstrate the position of Afrikaans in the literary system in similar ways to what was just discussed. Afrikaans has retained its status as a relatively productive donor language and Afrikaans literary translation practices continue to underscore the cultural status of Afrikaans and its vitality independently of what is advocated by language policy as a reflection of the support of the language community.

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Concerning translation into Afrikaans, Leti Kleyn (2013: 120) explains that the South African book market is dominated by translation into Afrikaans of Christian fiction and non-fiction, romantic novels, self-help guides, popular psychology and a large volume of children’s and youth literature. These are most frequently translated from English and clearly represent popular rather than literary genres. Within the genre of children’s and youth literature, a significant number of Afrikaans books are translations. In 2010, the proportion was around a third (Kleyn and Snyman 2010: 30). While translation in this case has the positive function of enlarging the body of available Afrikaans literature in this genre, Kleyn and Snyman (ibid.) argue that translation may occur to an extent that original literary production is stifled. However, this is possibly the only genre in which translation possibly threatens original production. The South African literary system still favours Western literature for translation into Afrikaans and although popular works dominate, acclaimed literary works continue to be translated. Kleyn (2013: 122) identifies a boom in the translation of such literature into Afrikaans since the early 2000s (though by no means resembling the 1960s boom). The translation of English literature despite the accessibility of English to most Afrikaans readers highlights the luxuries the Afrikaans book market is able to afford and displays translation’s serving as a convenience rather than an essential requirement for access. Because of funding opportunities and certainly also cultural ties, the translation of Dutch literature into Afrikaans is also popular, with several Dutch authors such as Herman de Coninck, Harry Mulisch, Karel Glastra van Loon, Gerrit Komrij and Adriaan van Dis being translated since 1994 (Kleyn 2013: 123). The selection of Western literature continues to demonstrate historical cultural ties and association choices with implications that are discussed in relation to transformation. In terms of Afrikaans literary export, historical ties and language similarity, along with the productivity of Dutch translation, have caused continued translation of Afrikaans literature into Dutch. Afrikaans writers of prose are particularly popular in the Netherlands and Flanders, with authors such as Etienne van Heerden, Marlene van Niekerk, Riana Scheepers, Dan Sleigh, Marita van der Vyver and Ingrid Winterbach enjoying favourable reception in translation. Regarding the position

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of Afrikaans authors in the Dutch literary system, Yves T’Sjoen (2013: 27) states (in translation from Dutch): “[They] feature in strategic repertoires of critics and with their novels take part in the poetic discourse of the Dutch literary system”. T’Sjoen (ibid.) contrasts this critical embrace with the scarcity of critical attention directed towards Afrikaans poets, in spite of the commercial success of Afrikaans poetry in Dutch translation. T’Sjoen explains that Afrikaans poets such as Ingrid Jonker (whose poetry has seen several translations into Dutch since 2000) and Antjie Krog are treated as political activists and an emphasis is placed on their persona pratica (personal status) rather than their persona poetica (literary status). This implies that the political stimulus is still relevant in the reception of Afrikaans poetry, as was the case in the selection of a proportion of English South African literature, at least within the Dutch literary system. An exception to this is the overwhelmingly positive reception of young poet Ronelda S. Kamfer’s work in Dutch. Although her profile as a Coloured author has contributed to her embrace, T’Sjoen (2013: 28) seems to indicate that the literary merit of her work enjoys the appropriate attention in her case. What is further interesting about Afrikaans poetry in Dutch translation is that it is often published in bilingual editions (i.e. Afrikaans alongside Dutch), giving the Dutch reader access to the original poetry. This illustrates the intention that the translation would not replace the original, but complement it—an acknowledgement of the poetic faculty of the Afrikaans language, which invites appreciation from the Dutch reader. Afrikaans authors not only enjoy popularity in Dutch translation, but several authors are widely translated internationally. The most translated Afrikaans author since democratisation is still André P. Brink, with 95 records on the Index Translationum since 1994. Breyten Breytenbach also still features prominently, with 22 records since 1994. In contrast with these two “evergreen” authors, several Afrikaans writers who have had a long writing career prior to democratisation only became popular in translation belatedly. Etienne van Heerden, Karel Schoeman and Antjie Krog are three such authors, with the former two gaining renown in translation around the political changeover period and Krog shortly after democratisation. Novelist Etienne van Heerden has been published in 12 languages, mainly Germanic, and has 20 records on the Index

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Translationum starting from 1990. Karel Schoeman, who was active as a writer, historian and translator since the 1960s, has been translated into English, Dutch, German and French, with 13 records on the Index Translationum since 1991. Krog’s Afrikaans poetry, mentioned in relation to Dutch, is also frequently translated into English. However, her most translated publication, an English non-fiction work about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Country of My Skull (1998), has been translated into German, Dutch, Danish, French, Spanish and Serbian. As was the case with English South African literature, Afrikaans literature has also seen the emergence of several new authors who have achieved prominence in translation since democratisation. The most obvious example of a widely translated new generation author is thriller novelist Deon Meyer, who has been translated into English, German, Dutch, French, Italian, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Czech and Bulgarian and has 47 records on the Index Translationum, outdoing some of the older generation authors. Another acclaimed new generation author is Marita van der Vyver, whose books have been translated mainly into English, Dutch and German. Her novel Griet skryf’n sprokie (1992) (Entertaining angels) is an exception, having been translated into ten languages, including Chinese, Czech and Hebrew. Van der Vyver has 26 records on the Index Translationum. In addition, Marlene van Niekerk, who attained success locally with her novels Triomf (1995) and Agaat (2004), has been translated into English, Dutch, German, Swedish, Danish, French and Italian, although it is mostly her novel Triomf that has enjoyed popularity in translation in languages besides Dutch and English, to which her other work in translation is limited. The above-mentioned authors of both generations represent the most popular Afrikaans literary authors in translation abroad and their degree of popularity is striking considering the status of Afrikaans as a minor language. This relative popularity indicates the high profile of Afrikaans literature. Another indication of this status is the fact that Afrikaans literature is often translated into English for a local market. Kleyn (2013: 124) mentions several reasons for this, including the familiar context and themes, the lack of problems obtaining translation rights and the marketability of Afrikaans authors who attain success in Afrikaans. Therefore, the Afrikaans literary market is not only being supplemented

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through the translation of international publications, but is also continuing to produce literature for which there is a market in translation both locally and internationally. Regarding the cultural ties expressed through Afrikaans translation trends, European association remains glaringly evident, which has implications regarding transformation and reconciliation in post-apartheid South Africa, since it indicates that Afrikaans culture seems to remain isolated from its African context. The lack of translation of local black authors or of African literature in general (whether in an African language or a former colonial language) indicates a state of disassociation from Africa in favour of European affiliation. The major exceptions to this trend in democratic times are the Afrikaans translation of Nelson Mandela’s Long Walk to Freedom, a new Afrikaans translation of Thomas Mofolo’s Chaka (2017) and Afrikaans translations of indigenous poetry done as part of various projects undertaken by Antjie Krog. Krog’s transformative views concerning literary translation deserve some discussion here and relate to the topic of how translation should/could function ideally within a postcolonial or post-apartheid context, although ideological and other types of societal constraint, particularly stemming from the coupling between the literary and economic systems and the influence of ideology are recognised as a significant obstacle to such translational functioning. Antjie Krog is a fervent advocate for cross-cultural and multidirectional translation as a solution to the problem of cultural hegemony and has been active in furthering multilingualism and inter-cultural appreciation through translation. Part of this activism has involved working in collaboration with other translators to make indigenous poetry available in Afrikaans in the anthology Met woorde soos met kerse (2002), which contains Afrikaans translations of poetry from ten indigenous languages. This publication received SATI’s translation prize for its contribution towards uniting people through translation. In addition, Krog translated into Afrikaans a collection of/Xam poetry, which had originally been translated into English by Wilhelm Bleek and Lucy Lloyd. This appeared in Afrikaans as die sterre sê “tsau” (2004) and simultaneously in English as The Stars Say “tsau” (2004). These publications provided exposure to marginalised African literature and African culture and served as an

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acknowledgement of African literary achievement and a display of the riches of African culture. This is explicitly indicated in the foreword of The Stars Say “tsau” , where the refinement and sophisticated thought and perception evident in the poetry is lauded (perhaps answering directly to contrary assumptions) and the desire to establish respect for the humanity of others is indicated. Through their inviting of admiration, the above-mentioned translations were conducted in a very different spirit from most previous translations of African literature. The fact that these translations were done into Afrikaans is particularly significant. By translating literature in the African languages into Afrikaans, Krog defied popular literary translation trends and forced a door open for African literature and African culture in the Afrikaans language and attempted to undo cultural imbalances by recognising what has been overlooked and disregarded. Krog’s initiation of translation from the African languages is a cry for change in (specifically white) cultural identity in the post-apartheid dispensation. Other translations which have contributed to Krog’s goal of transformation include Afrikaans translations of Nelson Mandela’s autobiography Long Walk to Freedom (1994), Henk van Woerden’s Dutch biography of Dimitri Tsafendas, Mondvol glas (1998) and translations of some of Ingrid Jonker’s poems into English with André P. Brink for Black Butterflies (2005), which are related in some way to coming to terms with apartheid. This is also true of Krog’s non-fiction work A Change of Tongue, which combines the transformative application of translation with an explicit discussion of transformative translation. In terms of application, this book contains translations of indigenous poetry from several local languages and even Tuareg. The translations are in most cases presented along with originals in interlinear fashion, which “deliberately draw[s] the reader’s attention to the process of translation” (Strauss 2006: 182). Claire Scott (2006: 81) explains the explicit thematisation of translation in the book as follows: In attempting to create new possibilities for identification within the South African context, Krog engages with the concept of translation as a means for understanding the ways in which individuals can change. In ‘A Change of Tongue’ Krog focuses specifically on how she might translate

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from Afrikaans to English and thereby translate herself from “Afrikaner” to “South African”. Quoting Christiane Nord, Krog says that “translation is an intentional interaction intending to change an existing state of affairs” (267). The emphasis here is on an “intentional interaction”; translation cannot happen either haphazardly or in isolation, but must involve a dialogue between two voices.

The relationship between interlingual translation and a metaphysical type of “translation”, as was discussed in relation to colonisation, is thus again brought out in Krog’s understanding of transformative translation. Metaphysical “translation” is depicted on the cover by a sole, which undergoes transformation from a symmetrical fish to an ocean floor dweller, adapting through the migration of one eye to other side. This signifies the process of “translation” that white South Africans are to undergo to adapt to post-apartheid South Africa. The relationship between translation and social transformation is further explained by Scott as follows (ibid.): Krog deals with the issues of transformation and translation both explicitly, as political and literary phenomena, and implicitly, as social and personal experiences. The author-narrator in researching the translation of poems learns, “This is the only way to learn about yourself in the world, by translating what others are saying” (184). […] Translation becomes more than the act of rendering a text into another language. It is a way of engaging with difference and a means of gaining a sense of belonging in a new or changing context.

Interlingual translation certainly possesses the potential to foster cultural appreciation and allow engagement with difference in a society in need of reconciliation. Translation in this case not only has an explicit culturally educational function, but also has gestural or symbolic value as an indication of interest and an act of acknowledgement. However, Krog’s view perhaps seems overly romanticised within an SST interpretation when all the elements simultaneously exerting an influence on translation’s social operation are taken into account. One significant constraint is the coupling between the literary system and the economic system, which directs the translational choices initiated by the literary

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system away from more “experimental” translation to cater for reader preferences, which are, in turn, governed by dominant ideologies which may not embrace transformation. Although literary activists, such as Krog, have the potential to initiate such projects due to the influence of both their persona pratica and their persona poetica on publishability, it would take a significant collective effort to influence dominant trends and the existence of such a collective effort might reflect already changing ideologies in more transformative directions in any case. Social theories which emphasise agency would probably offer a different interpretation of the potential for literary activism through translation in this context, but SST’s emphasis on social conditioning suggests that the ability to change translation trends in favour of transformation is highly contingent upon the alteration of several social factors and therefore not easily accomplished. Although transformative translation has not become a significant trend, this type of translation is relevant in relation to the symbolic level of social exclusion which was mentioned at the end of Sect. 7.2 and relates to the use of translation in other prestigious social domains as well. Whereas what was called practical exclusion relates to people’s ability to access information and thereby participate in society, symbolic exclusion has psychological and representational rather than material and tangible consequences. It refers to the attainment of higher social ideals such as transformation, solidarity, integration and citizenship—feelings of social belonging generally. In the context of language, it relates to the ability of language to foster a sense of inclusion in society. This level of exclusion is thus based upon social identity constructs and the representative nature of language as an embodiment of culture. That specific languages may evoke relations to specific cultures implies that linguistic medium may be seen as a form of utterance from the perspective of Luhmann’s communication model. Language’s ability to convey so-called evoked meaning in the form of dialect and register (Baker 1992: 15–17) may therefore be extended to entire languages and their relationships with cultures. While there are of course various ways of achieving cultural recognition, language promotion through translation is arguably one of the obvious means and the literary, media, political and educational systems possess a significant potential to ensure such promotion, at least

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theoretically. In the literary system, the case of Afrikaans translation has proven that language promotion through translation can be successfully achieved under the right ideological conditions and under the condition of economic enablement. The literary system’s freedom from language policy and its ability to express human ideals makes it particularly suitable for language promotion. The media system has also shown more successful language promotion through translation, particularly in the oral mode. This system is able to accommodate linguistic expression in various ways using various media which show different degrees of constraint from the economic system. It therefore allows some flexibility. In addition, both the literary and media systems have the potential to thematise culture explicitly. In the political system, there are practical ways to ensure language promotion in a way that does not only allow practical inclusion, but symbolic inclusion. The Western Cape provincial government’s adoption one of a kind trilingual language policy is exemplary in this regard. Such policies which acknowledge regionally common languages and actively promote their use through signage and documentation make language promotion more achievable than attempting to accommodate all the official languages. Section 7.4 further shows that the educational system has been very innovative in employing and promoting the Bantu languages through translation. However, ideology is a significant obstacle to the full achievement of this type of inclusion in all of these systems and the question is whether ideology can and should be changed or whether language promotion should be abandoned amid the lack of ideological support. This question is left open and serves to highlight the difficulty of making recommendations within the framework of SST when considering the complex web of stimuli which continually and simultaneously brings about a particular social characteristic.

The Bantu Languages The position of the Bantu languages within the literary system demonstrates the coupling of this system with the economic system and the influence of ideology. In an in-depth study of multilingual publishing

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in South Africa, Jana Möller (2014) highlights the scarcity of publishing in the African languages and finds that, like under apartheid, the educational publishing sector still provides virtually the only outlet for books in the African languages. To prove this, Möller analyses the publishing situation with regard to trade books in contrast to educational or academic books (which are discussed in the following section). Around the time of writing, 54% of all trade books published in South Africa were in English, 45% in Afrikaans and only 1% in the combined African languages (Möller 2014: 49). As far as sales are concerned, even German, French and Portuguese have fared better in the local publishing market than the African languages (Kruger 2012: 30). That this situation reflects social realities and the stratification which still characterises South African society should be obvious. Möller (2014: 56) links this trend to the lack of a reading culture, which can be tied to economic and cultural realities and the continuing effects of apartheid. Many black children encounter books for the first time at school and do not associate reading with leisure (Möller 2014: 58). The absence of books among many black families is attributed to the consideration of books as expensive luxury items (ibid.). Other factors said to affect the development of a reading culture among black South Africans include the prevalence of illiteracy, the language in which books are published (or are not published, in the case of the African languages), the distracting effect of technology, an oral cultural heritage and under-funded libraries (Möller 2014: 58–59). Perceptions of the African languages as inferior or backward or as languages of identification, but not languages of prestige, also influence the desire to read in an African language. Möller (2014: 62) indicates that apartheid’s malevolent promotion of the African languages and the legacy of Bantu education may have caused a negative association with African language literature in some areas, although views of the African languages simply as non-literary, vernacular languages are probably more common hindrances. A further impediment to the promotion of the African languages as literary languages is the educational themes of available literature. Cynthia Ntuli (2011: 243) identifies preferences among black children for English books due to the “highly moralistic and blatantly didactic” nature especially of teenagers’ books in the African languages. Obviously educational themes can also divert those already

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reading to the English book market. A related problem is the fact that accomplished black authors still prefer to write in English, which leads to a lack of good quality adult literature and genre variation in the African languages. In terms of translation, this situation is reflected in the scarcity of literary translation involving the African languages. Thus, the literary system’s continued reflection of previous trends in terms of language status and cultural affiliation is an echo of the lack of change in general social characteristics.

7.4

Translation in the Educational System

This section focuses on one case in which written translation involving the African languages occurs to a comparatively significant extent and with positive cultural implications, although the comparative prestige of English and Afrikaans is still evident. Positive trends have been enabled largely by the embrace of digital media, which allows a degree of freedom from the economic system in comparison with traditional print media. The education system provides the major stimulus for written translation involving the African languages and exerts different constraints upon translation’s operation than the literary system, although there is some overlap in terms of text type, with both systems stimulating the production of literary translations, but for different social purposes reflecting different statuses. Literary translations in the African languages are not primarily produced for leisurely reading, but for educational purposes. The fact that educational publishers publish books which would otherwise be considered trade books proves that educational intentions underlie their translation and publication and causes such publications to be considered as part of the communication of the education system. Haidee Kruger’s book Postcolonial Polysystems: The Production and Reception of Translated Children’s Literature in South Africa (2012) proved very helpful in identifying translation trends in the African languages related to educational books for children, for whom the bulk of translated books is intended. Kruger used two methods to obtain information regarding translation practices into and even from the African languages. In the first method, publishers of children’s books completed questionnaires

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about their practice of translation and in the second, deductions were made using publishing information derived from the Writings in Nine Tongues catalogue. Information obtained using each of these methods is summarised below, focusing on the relationship between the findings and language status. In her study, Kruger (2012: 55) found that around 63% of the 16 publishers interviewed indicated that as much as 80% of their output of children’s literature had an educational intention. In addition, 75% of the respondents indicated educational motivations as a determinant for text choice when translating (Kruger 2012: 60). In this regard, Kruger (2012: 60–61) states: “It appears that translation is motivated less by the ideal of making ‘good’ or ‘valuable’ literary works available in various [African] languages, and more by the pragmatic ideal of making the books needed to fulfil educational requirements available in different languages”. Concerning trends in source and target language combinations, the most common language combination was translation from English into an African language. Twelve out of the 16 publishers indicated this as a language combination, while, quite surprisingly, five publishers indicated that they translate from an African language into English (ibid.). Translation from the African languages, Kruger (2012: 57) believes, may suggest that “book production for children is starting to incorporate the development of original materials in the African languages”. This is surely a positive indication. Yet, the identification of English as a target language here is in some ways misleading, as Kruger (ibid.) assumes that English serves mainly a pivot function for translation into the other African languages. Kruger (2012: 59) identifies a further positive trend which is that more trade books for children have begun to appear in the African languages in recent years. Whereas a study conducted in 2002 found that the only children’s books in the African languages were school readers or primers, and this is still mainly the case, Kruger (ibid.) provides at least ten examples of leisure books which had been translated into the African languages around the time of writing. This implied trend towards leisurely reading in the African languages, Kruger warns, is not fast-developing and needs to be observed for its longevity (ibid.). The books translated into the African languages are all of local origin, in contrast with children’s books translated into Afrikaans,

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which links with their production with very specific local educational motivations in mind. The Writings in Nine Tongues publishing catalogue helped to determine the proportion of translations versus originals in children’s literature. The catalogue was compiled by the national Department of Arts and Culture in an attempt to prove that South African publishers are publishing books in the African languages and it contains more than 4000 titles arranged according to language and genre (Möller 2014: 98). Although translated titles are not indicated as such (this would detract from the goal of showcasing commitment to publishing in the African languages), translated titles could be inferred indirectly in four Bantu languages (Xhosa, Sotho, Ndebele and Tsonga), considered representative of all nine Bantu languages in terms of status and language family. Kruger (2012: 68) identified a dominance of translations, with translations constituting 54% of the total sample. Heavy dependence on translation reflects low original productivity (as was noted in relation to Afrikaans). When broken down in terms of audience age, the proportion of translations shows great variance. An overwhelming 90.9% of the literature aimed at children aged 0–12 consisted of translations, but literature aimed at teenagers and used for Adult Basic Education and Training showed only a proportion of 5.6% (Kruger 2012: 69). Kruger (ibid.) attributes this to translation as a cost-effective means of providing reading materials for younger children to meet the requirements of the South African educational system in contrast to the preference for valued literature in a given African language for the education of older children and adults. When the statistics are broken down according to the four languages used, trends regarding the use of translation are similar in spite of status distinctions between the sample languages. The widely spoken languages, Xhosa and Sotho, did not make less frequent use of translation than the more marginalised languages, Ndebele and Tsonga. This led Kruger (2012: 73) to deduce that there is no obvious relationship between the status of an African language and educational translation trends. The disproportionately large percentage of translated titles among African language children’s books is a phenomenon criticised by Cynthia Ntuli (2011: 243), who not only laments that most Zulu children’s books

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are translations, but also finds the translations to be of poor quality, being “badly translated or hav[ing] other language related mistakes”. In relation to quality, Kruger (2012: 62) similarly indicates the frequent occurrence of “bad” translations in the African languages in her investigation of translation quality control at publishing houses. This is perhaps an area which could be investigated further in relation to literary status discrepancies. Another area which indicates an asymmetrical situation with regard to African language translation of children’s books is the preference for a small group of authors’ work, meaning that there are a few authors who are responsible for the original creation of a large number of African language titles (Möller 2014: 101). When glancing through Writings in Nine Tongues, several names recur, such as Carole Bloch, Dianne Hofmeyr, Kerry Saadien-Raad, Dianne Case and Maryanne Bester. In fact, the Index Translationum identifies these authors as among South Africa’s most translated authors. The scope of their publications in translation is immense. Bloch has 91 works in 181 publications and 11 languages, Hofmeyr has 74 works in 186 publications in 21 languages, Saadien-Raad has 75 works in 170 publications and 11 languages, Case has 19 works in 65 publications and 11 languages and Bester has 15 works in 30 publications and 7 languages. Furthermore, Niki Daly’s work has been translated into several local African languages, alongside the previously mentioned foreign languages. There seems, therefore, to be not only a linguistic monopoly in the children’s publishing sector in which English dominates as a source language, but also proportionate authorial disparity, both likely based on financial motivations to quickly and effectively provide literature in the African languages. Although this might reflect the lower status of the African languages in comparison with English and Afrikaans, the frequent practice of translation into the African languages from English does not necessarily have negative cultural implications such as cultural imperialism, as one might expect in such a scenario. This is due to the prevalence of educational ideologies which support inter-cultural awareness. Kruger (2012: 186) observes, for example:

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[…] the emphasis on multiculturalism and cultural tolerance in South Africa is reflected in the many English- and Afrikaans-language children’s books that deal with both historical and contemporary African culture. It may therefore not only or necessarily be the case that original and translated South African books are linguistically and culturally hybrid because South African children are immersed in this hybridity, but also because adults believe that children’s books ought to inculcate in children intercultural awareness, respect and tolerance.

Differing from Kruger, I would not view this ideology as representative of South African books in general (since the literary system was shown to express less transformative choices in its conditioning of translational selectivity), but as particular to the educational system. The thematisation of African culture, which was observed within the English-Afrikaans language combination, is also present in African language publications as a result of translation practices already discussed. The authors of originals no doubt produce culturally hybrid texts with the ideological prerequisites of the education system and translatability (i.e. applicability within the African language context) in mind. It must be acknowledged, however, that African culture seems to be thematised very generally in these cases. Most of Kruger’s examples of African cultural phenomena in translated text include general words used in various Bantu languages and known in English and Afrikaans such as “mama” (mother, a respectful reference to older women), “spaza shop” (a home-run convenience store in townships), “laduma” (an exclamation used when a goal is scored in soccer), “gogo” (grandmother), etc. Nevertheless, this represents a positive trend in terms of cultural recognition as far as informational selection for translation is concerned. A further example of the positive relationship between cultural identity and children’s book translation is the Stories Across Africa (StAAf ) project launched a number of years ago by the African Union’s African Academy of Languages. The aim of this project is to collect stories from across Africa for children of various ages and to translate these into various African languages in order to promote a sense of common African identity in the same way that the Grimms’ stories and various fairy tales have fostered a common European or Western identity. The project aims

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to initiate and support translation of stories between African languages and between those languages and former colonial languages. The goal is to produce three anthologies; one for young children, one for children in middle childhood and one for teenagers, and thus far, the 16 Little Books for Little Hands series, aimed at young children, has been translated into Zulu and Xhosa (and Afrikaans). This initiative clearly has positive intentions with regard to the status of the African languages and the promotion of African culture and translation is used proactively as part of this goal. There are also other very creative translation projects that seek to promote reading in indigenous African languages and employ culturally relevant and contextualised themes for this purpose. One such project is the African Storybook (ASb) initiative, launched in 2013 by the South African Institute of Distance Education. ASb relies on an innovative publishing model to make reading material in the indigenous languages available cost-effectively to children and reading facilitators across subSaharan Africa. It not only provides free online access to picture books, songs, poems and rhymes in various African languages created by project members, but also allows website or app users to create and translate stories to be read by others. Once these stories undergo an editing and review process, they are designated as “ASb approved”. Non-approved stories are also available for reading, however. Regarding the success of the project in “countering the effects of linguistic colonialism”, Yvonne Reed (2019: 3) states that “one of ASb’s most noteworthy achievements is that by the end of 2016, 68% of the texts produced were in indigenous African languages, with the total number of languages used in texts reaching 120 by November 2017”. The project, which had 864 original and 3500 translated stories available by the same time (ibid.), has successfully reached many children through private use and use by public libraries and schools. In South Africa, the Department of Basic Education has made some of these stories available in all the official languages as part of its Read2Lead campaign, allowing online access without data charges through a certain network provider (ibid.). Another success identified by Reed (2019: 4) has been the response by language teachers, who indicated that the “desire to read and the investment in language learning are enhanced both by the affirmation of [readers’] identities through the

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availability of texts in local languages and by enabling […] access to and use of digital resources”. Nal’ibali (Xhosa for “here’s the story”) is a similar initiative, limited to South Africa, which makes distinctly African stories available for free online reading in the official languages. It also provides resources such as audio stories, supplements, rhymes and story cards and allows members of the public to submit their own stories. In addition, it provides online training in facilitating reading. These initiatives suggest that perhaps, while social inequalities persist, the traditional realm of printed literature will not necessarily be the domain in which changing trends pertaining to African language translation in the written context are manifested. The sphere of online media, with its increasing reach due to more accessible mobile technology and cheaper data costs, should be monitored for developments in this regard. The question will be whether there will be motivation from systems besides the educational system to employ this mode of written communication in relation to the African languages.

7.5

Conclusion

This chapter has highlighted the way in which translation practices continue to reflect linguistic status distinctions in present-day South Africa. The predominance of English in certain prestigious and other very necessary social functions was shown to be problematic given the absence of a widespread lingua franca. Translation practices, or rather their selectivity or lack, were shown to maintain rather than successfully bridge the intelligibility barrier that remains in place across South African society and were linked to processes of social exclusion. The political system’s neglect of translation currently effects practical social exclusion with severely negative consequences for the human participants in society, while the lack of language promotion via translation in various prestigious function systems fails to foster transformation and symbolic social inclusion. The SST perspective emphasised the host of stimuli that work together to bring about this situation, which underscored the difficulty in solving language-related social issues through translation.

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Ideology and economic inequality were identified as significant stumbling blocks to the achievement of social inclusion through translation. Yet some new and innovative uses of translation such as those used to promote reading among children in the African languages perhaps indicate that digital media might present a feasible avenue for language promotion while economic constraints persist. While this chapter has not provided a full consideration of how language issues might be resolved, partly due to the fact that SST does not lend itself well to such consideration, it has sketched a complex scenario which scholars might build upon to inform recommendations and activism.

Notes 1. Elsewhere, free from the limitations of SST, I have paid more attention to the potential for agency in matters related to translation and social exclusion and have advocated an activist approach (see Botha 2019). I also discuss the tension between structure and agency in Chapter 8. 2. This is not to say that the white population is completely unaffected by affirmative action and labour reform, and the significant extent of white emigration to destinations such as England, Canada, Australia and New Zealand in search of better work opportunities needs to be recognised. 3. The main example of positive government embrace of translation at municipal level also relates to interpreting. In this isolated case, the Western Cape Government, in compliance with its unique trilingual regional language policy, contracted Folio InterTel to provide professional telephonic medical interpreting services in government hospitals and clinics in 2010. This initiative has been considered a successful model for providing interpreting services affordably in various branches of service delivery (Brink 2014).

References Alexander, N. (2005, August 4–7). The potential role of translation as social practice for the intellectualisation of African languages. Keynote address delivered

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at the XVII World Congress of the International Federation of Translators held at Tampere, Finland. Baker, M. (1992).In other words: a coursebook on translation. London and New York: Routledge. Beukes, A-M. (2006). Translation in South Africa: The politics of transmission. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 24 (1), 1–6. Bond, P. (2014). Elite transition. London: Pluto Press. Botha, M. (2019). Translation and development: (Non-)translation and material exclusion in South Africa. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 37 (3), 247–261. Brink E. (2014). An exploratory study on telephone interpreting in the Western Cape healthcare sector. Unpublished MA dissertation, University of Stellenbosch. Cantalupo, C. (2016). Africa antetranslation. Research in African Literatures, 47 (3), 1–14. Desai, Z. (2016). Learning through the medium of English in multilingual South Africa: enabling or disabling learners from low income contexts? Comparative Education, 52(3), 343–358. Hermans, T. (2009). Translation, ethics, politics. In J. Munday (Ed.), The Routledge companion to translation studies (pp. 93–105). London and New York: Routledge. Kleyn, L. (2013). ’n Sisteemteoretiese kartering van die Afrikaans literatuur van die tydperk 2000–2009: Kanonisering van die Afrikaanse literatuur. Unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Pretoria. Kleyn, L., & Snyman, M. (2010). “Haai, Jaco Jacobs! Wanneer skryf jy ’n regte boek?” ’n Bestekopname van kinder- en jeugboeke (1999–2009). Mousaion, 28(2), 26–49. Kruger, H. (2012). Postcolonial polysystems: The production and reception of translated children’s literature in South Africa. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Kruger, J-L., Kruger, H., & Verhoef, M. (2007). Subtitling and the promotion of multilingualism: The case of marginalised languages in South Africa. Linguistica Antverpiensia, New Series—Themes in Translation Studies, 6 , 35–49. May, S. (2003). Misconceiving minority language rights: Implications for liberal political theory. In W. Kymlicka & A. Patten (Eds.), Language rights and political theory (pp. 123–152). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mesthrie, R. (2006). Language, transformation and development: A sociolinguistic appraisal of post-apartheid South African language policy and

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practice. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 24 (2), 151–163. Mesthrie, R. (2015). English in India and South Africa: Comparisons, commonalities and contrasts. African Studies, 74, 186–198. Möller, J. (2014). Multilingual publishing: An investigation into access to trade books through the eleven official languages in South Africa. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of Pretoria. Myers-Scotton, C. (1993). Social motivations for code-switching: Evidence from Africa. Gloucestershire: Clarendon Press. Ntuli, C.D. (2011). From oral performance to picture books: A perspective on Zulu children’s literature. Unpublished doctoral thesis, University of South Africa. Olivier, J. (2011). Acknowledging and protecting language rights on SABC TV through the use of subtitles. Communicatio, 37 (2), 225–241. Phaahla, P. L. (2006). Knowledge production in what language? The hegemonic use of English as a language of commerce and industry from a South African perspective. In O. F. Arasanyin & M. A. Pemberton (Eds.), Selected Proceedings of the 36th Annual Conference on African Linguistics (pp. 142–154). Somerville: Cascadilla Proceedings Project. Posel, D., & Casale, D. (2011). Language proficiency and language policy in South Africa: Findings from new data. International Journal of Educational Development, 31(5), 449–457. Prah, K. (2009). A tale of two cities: Trends in multilingualism in two African cities: The case of Nima-Accra and Katatura-Windhoek. In K. Prah & B. Brock-Utne (Eds.), Multilingualism: An African advantage (pp. 250–274). Cape Town: Centre for Advanced Studies of African Society. Reed, Y. (2019). Countering linguistic imperialism with stories in the languages of Africa: The African Storybook initiative as a model for enabling in and out of school literacies. South African Journal of Childhood Education, 9 (1), 1–8. Richard, J-P. (2005). Translation of African literature: A German model? Translation – Transnation (1994–2004): Ten years of literary exchange between South Africa and France, (pp. 39–44). Association of French Studies in Southern Africa. Rotich, R., Ilieva, E. V., & Walunywa, J. (2015). The social formation of postapartheid South Africa. The Journal of Pan African Studies, 8(9), 132–155. SATI. (2011). Submission on SA Languages Bill . translators.org.za/sati_cms/ index.php?frontend_action=announcements&menu_item_id=331. Accessed 13 April 2017.

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Scott, C. (2006). “How do I understand myself in this text-tortured land?”: Identity, belonging and textuality in Antjie Krog’s A Change of Tongue, Down to My Last Skin and Body Bereft. Unpublished master’s dissertation, University of KwaZulu-Natal. StatsSA. (2018). Languages spoken inside and outside the household . http://www. statssa.gov.za/publications/P0318/P03182018.pdf. Accessed 20 January 2020. Steyn, J. (2015). Van doekvoet na eendvoet: die vertalings van Afrikaanse romans in Frans. LitNet Akademies, 12(1), 106–130. Stoneman, C., & Suckling, J. (1987). Apartheid to neocolonialism? Third World Quarterly, 9 (2), 515–544. Strauss, H. (2006). From Afrikaner to African: Whiteness and the politics of translation in Antjie Krog’s A Change of Tongue. African Identities, 4 (2), 179–194. T’Sjoen, Y. (2013). Beloken blikvelden in de Lage Landen: Eenentwintigsteeeuwse receptie van Nederlandse vertalingen van Afrikaanse poëzie. Tydskrif Vir Letterkunde, 50 (1), 16–35. Van Rooy, B., & Coetzee-Van Rooy, S. (2015). The language issue and academic performance at a South African University. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 33(1), 31–46. Van Rooyen, M. (2011). A mediation model for the translation of radio news texts in a multicultural newsroom. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 29 (1), 17–29. Wallmach, K. (2014). Recognising the ‘little perpetrator’ in each of us: Complicity, responsibility and translation/interpreting in institutional contexts in multilingual South Africa. Perspectives, 22(4), 566–580.

8 Conclusion

This conclusion draws connections between the findings presented in the book in a way that the chapter delineation did not quite allow. In this sense, it serves to tie together the most significant findings and to present a holistic overview. Additionally, and more importantly, it offers a response to the question: What is the relevance and significance of the foregoing interpretation of written South African translation theoretically and practically? What does it contribute to our understanding of translation and what is the potential outcome of such research?

8.1

Trends

Identifying trends has been seen as a test of “sociality” in this book and was therefore highlighted as a necessity within sociological research. While the analyses within each content chapter have centred around specific trends observed within a particular timeframe, there is benefit in summarising the major trends observed throughout the entire book in relation to power and ideology and translation’s social operation as a way of underscoring the most relevant findings and providing a general © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0_8

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overview. This section identifies trends related to the systems which have initiated written translation, the social functions of translation, and translational direction and inter-societal relations, all of which reflect power and ideology in various ways.

System-Related Trends Underlying this discussion is the general observation that specific societal functions have influenced the nature of written translation throughout South African history to a significant extent. Translation trends could be described as being concentrated around and uniquely affected by specific societal functions (operating as autopoietic function systems) since the initiation of written translation practices in South Africa. In other words, functional differentiation, whether as a characteristic of foreign societies initiating translation with South African society/societies or as a characteristic of modern South African society, can be described as having had a noteworthy effect on the practice and shape of translation. In the foregoing chapters, the differences in the nature of translation stimulated by particular function systems was shown to be pronounced enough to promote a productive view of translation in relation to specific sub-systemic operations rather than only in relation to society on the whole (although general societal characteristics still framed the discussion of function systems). This is of course a matter of perspective and society’s sub-systemic characteristics need not be discussed in detail when assuming an even more distanced vantage point. Yet it is difficult to talk about translation in the context of society in Luhmanninan terms without considering function systems, since different translated text types point to different systemic origins and therefore suggest a different set of constraints influencing the practice of translation. Within the historical period under investigation here, in which functional differentiation is seen to assert its socially characterising effect to an increasing extent, and within the scope allowed, a function-systems-based view certainly possesses significant merit.

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Examples of different system-specific influences on the nature of translation practices were seen in the colonial period, for example. Here, the autopoiesis of European science systems directed translation’s operation in basic “extractional” ways towards itself, whereas Western religious systems’ autopoiesis directed translation outward towards segmented society in a more elaborate and large-scale employment of translation. Although both these uses of translation were centred around common colonial views of indigenous societies, the very different translational responses to the same ideological stimulus and the different ideologies reflected in the communication of these two sub-systems support a perspective centred around function systems. Ideological differences were shown to exist not only between function systems, but also within them, and the tendency for systems to express opposing ideologies points to an important intersection between power and ideology. It was seen that a system may reflect ideological conflict through its various communicative expressions, often as a reflection of unequal social power dynamics within society at large. This was particularly evident in the communication of systems since the early twentieth century and was described as an effect of society’s oppressive hierarchical nature, which naturally engendered internal conflict. In other words, the hierarchical structure of society conditioned systems in a way which often stimulated the expression of divergent ideologies within the same system. By (1) illustrating which ideologies dominated in their expression as ideologemes, (2) showing how communicative ability was either allowed or hindered, and (3) considering the effect on human participants in society, the concept of power was related to the communication of function systems. A rather obvious trend was for oppressive or dominating forces to usurp the communication of a system and to restrict the communicative possibilities of the oppressed participants in society. Language policy and politically conditioned de facto language practices were seen to play a key role in restricting the communicative potential of the oppressed along with other types of social limitation such as educational limitations, labour inequality, legal restrictions, etc. In its relationship with systems, translation operated in two ways: initially, as a direct communicative function of certain function systems,

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and later on the boundaries of specific function systems as a separate autopoietic system. The purpose of translation in relation to the autopoiesis of function systems was also shown to be generally twofold: it either facilitated the outward groping of a function system into its environment in an act of reducing environmental complexity, or it mediated information across internal language barriers to reproduce communication within the same system in an act of establishing coupling with the human participants in society. Both of these functions entailed the selective importation or exportation of communication across language barriers. Furthermore, both of these functions were shown to be ideologically conditioned and motivated by power dynamics rather than being a result of “natural” coupling with the environment. For example, the language profiles of citizens and proportions of language speakers did not account for trends in translational practice in most cases; instead, the relative power of particular groups to assert themselves communicatively influenced such trends. Trends are further observable in the function systems that stimulated written translation, with certain systems recurring in the discussion. The main function systems which stimulated written translation throughout the period under investigation were European science systems, Western, North African and Middle-Eastern religious systems, the South African political, religious, literary and educational systems and foreign literary systems. The significance of these systems as commissioners of translation is emphasised below. Among the systems mentioned, the science system is unique in that it did not feature repeatedly as a significant commissioner of written translation. Western science systems’ contact with South African society through translation is significant mainly in relation to historical processes of knowledge accumulation in the context of the Age of Discovery and colonisation. Although this contact had little direct influence on indigenous societies, it had long-term repercussions regarding power and ideology mainly relating to the perpetuation or support of Western elitism. Translation contributed in comparatively small ways to Western science systems’ comprehension of their environment, yet their reflection of unequal power relations is very striking. Within the scope of the foregoing chapters, science systems and their particular function for society

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did not have any long-term significance with regard to translation apart from their particular operation in the colonial context. Western religious systems’ interaction with South African societies via translation was more directly significant, as it promoted functional differentiation, led to changes the use of the Bantu languages and had consequential ideological/religious outcomes. Part of the reason for this degree of impact (from a language point of view at least) relates to the prestige or social importance attached to religious texts. This also accounted for the importance of religious translation in relation to the establishment of Afrikaans as a prestigious written language in later history. Religious systems have been very prolific commissioners of written translation, specifically into the indigenous languages and have possibly had a greater influence on the development of the indigenous languages than any other system. Although religious systems have “shown interest” in the African languages amid the absence of such interest from many other systems, reflecting their particular evangelical ideologies, their use of translation has also echoed general societal ideologies such as Western elitism and democratic ideologies, making their operation significant at both societal and sub-systemic levels. Since the scale of the translations stimulated by North African and Middle Eastern religious systems was comparatively small, the effect of this translation was also less consequential. Although it represented among the first attempts at reducing the Afrikaans language to writing (a typical effect of inter-societal religious interaction) and provided social benefits to the Cape Malay population, its effects were limited to this community and communication was contained by virtue of its expression in Arabic script. The South African political system’s employment of translation was and continues to be very consequential and its centrality, or strong coupling with a host of other function systems, makes its practices particularly important. Not only does it determine language policy, which affects the communication of many other systems, but it has also been directly responsible for large amounts of translation. The political system’s practices are both highly ideologically influenced and socially significant and were connected with very serious social functions of translation such as oppression and social exclusion. It also had a very direct

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effect on South African translation’s emergence as a function system. Its strong coupling with the translation system was marked throughout much of the twentieth century, but diminished with the increasing maturation of the translation system, although it continues to constrain translation practices in several systems today. The South African literary system’s employment of translation was shown to be noteworthy in relation to power and ideology for the system’s ability to express linguistic status and for its representative function, by which it constructs a national narrative or aesthetic depiction of society, making it an obvious outlet for ideology. It also involves large-scale text production, engages in exchange with other societies and has strong degree of coupling with the economic system. All these factors render the literary system particularly capable of yielding insight into cultural prestige, cultural affiliation, language-based socio-economic discrepancies and power relations. Therefore, several factors account for the literary system’s recurrence in the analyses in this book. Foreign literary systems’ relationship with South African society, by which they selectively introduced South African literature into their internal communication, was mainly important for its reflection of cultural association (and in this regard even racial preferences) and liberal or antiapartheid ideologies. These two matters still continue to condition the relationship between local and foreign literary systems, although literary conditioning has become more important than political conditioning. The education system has become significant as a commissioner of translation more recently than the previously-mentioned systems. Its coupling with the political system accounted for its significance during apartheid, where its highly influential role as a (supposedly covert) means of ideological spread gave rise to its abuse. In the democratic period, it was shown to reflect its own autopoiesis to a greater extent in the positive initiatives related to translation that were discussed, although it remains conditioned to a large extent by educational policies influenced by the political system. Not only its ability to spread ideology, but its otherwise uncommon written employment of the Bantu languages and its strong reliance on text production were reasons for its significance in relation to translation, power and ideology.

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This summary of the operation of translation under the commissioning of different function systems thus highlights the effect that the unique function of each system for society has on the way it employs translation and on the ideologies and power relations it expresses by means of translation, supporting the value of a function system perspective.

Trends in the Social Functions of Translation The purpose of this section is to summarise the various social roles translation has fulfilled throughout South African history and to consider how these potentially contribute to or complicate typical conceptualisations of translation. Furthermore, the significance of these roles in relation to translation studies is highlighted. An attempt was made to reflect these functions, as far as they represent major trends, in the headings of the content chapters, but their significance in the context of translation studies remains to be defined. The first interesting observation related to the social function of translation is that translation has in some cases not served to facilitate communication between people of different languages as one would expect to be the case. The first such case was its so-called extractional employment in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century scientific discourse. In this use, translation possessed a comparative and illustrative function rather than a “direct” communicative function. The intended meaning lay in what translations illustrated about indigenous languages and peoples rather than directly in the propositional meaning conveyed through the translation of words. Meaning therefore lay firstly in the linguistic characteristics of translated words and phrases and secondly in what these illustrated about indigenous knowledge and people: their exotic and primitive nature from the perspective of “civilised” Westerners. These translations were divorced from a typical communicative context and involved communication about rather than communication with people, as has been explained. Although translation’s ability to communicate “about” has been acknowledged within translation studies,

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particularly in relation to translation techniques and the framing of translations, this function usually (covertly) accompanies a prominent “with” function, whereas the latter is strikingly absent in this case. In this sense, this case potentially challenges common notions around translational function based on the general primacy of propositional meaning. Translation’s function in cultural elevation has in certain instances been similarly conducted separately from a communicative necessity and is discussed further on. A further peculiarity regarding naturalist translation is that it not only introduced complexity into the initiating system, but involved drawing a distinction between the familiar and the foreign and thus strengthened self-referential systemic identity through observation. Translation practices supported the latter function by emphasising difference in the selection of forms of utterance. This function of translation to distinguish and set barriers is probably less obvious than its function to introduce newness, but potentially extends to many other cases of translation practice and probably deserves more attention as a significant translational ideologeme. In fact, the concepts of domestication and foreignisation could probably be extended through employment as references to translation’s general operation at the inter-societal level through the incorporation of ideas of societal self-reference versus heteroreference (in other words the extent to which translations generally embrace environmental foreignness or strengthen existing social identities). The translational function of religious conversion, encountered in the context of missionary translation, is somewhat unusual due to its outward directionality, in contrast to the major inter-societal translation trends observed throughout this book. Translations were produced with the intention that they would be accepted within the target system rather than being initiated by the target system. Self-initiated importation versus outwardly directed operations function very differently from the perspective of social systems theory (SST). Outwardly directed communication in this case involved an attempt at conforming environmental systems to initiating systems by producing messages likely of being “absorbed” by and accepted within the target system. Translation represented a type of coupling in this context to facilitate the acceptance

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of information and ensure the spread of conforming messages. This is in contrast to translation’s function of introducing difference or newness into system boundaries by selective filtering of information, as was seen with naturalist translation and most other cases of inter-societal translation. Despite these differences, both inwardly and outwardly directed colonial translation practices (scientific extraction and religious conversion via translation) supported the spread of ideas prominent in Western society and can be tied to the autopoietic and ideological nature of Western societies. Cultural elevation was a further important social function of translation. This was seen as a partly accidental effect of missionary translation, as a hidden function of Sol Plaatje’s translations, and as a very deliberate outcome of Afrikaans translation involving several function systems in the twentieth century. In the first case of missionary translation, translation’s function in cultural affirmation lay in its interpretation and appropriation of the form of messages by message receivers rather than or more than in the intended meaning of messages. Nevertheless, choices regarding utterance (stemming from evangelical considerations) promoted such an interpretation. In the second case of Sol Plaatje, translation was deliberately employed with the intention of showcasing the comparability of African and Western languages. This case did not represent a trend, however, and can be considered a-typical amid the social restrictions to which black authors were subjected. Under the influence of Afrikaner nationalism, translation had the explicit purpose of achieving and expressing cultural prestige. Translation was not conducted out of a communicational need primarily (a commonality with naturalist translation) and its function was mainly ideological. An important similarity in all three cases is translation’s selection of prestigious texts to display cultural prestige. Translation’s operation in this way not only has historical significance regarding language development and nationalism, but also has implications for the achievement of a greater degree of linguistic equality and cultural reconciliation in present-day South Africa. For this reason, it is a function of translation which could be more actively promoted by language activists in the interests of achieving post-apartheid social reform.

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Translation’s potential for resistant employment, showcased in this book, is not unfamiliar in translation studies, although this research has contributed further examples of such use from the under-represented African context. Resistant translation was employed most obviously and successfully by anti-apartheid authors, although its use at the newspaper Indian Opinion and by Sol Plaatje were also discussed. Antjie Krog’s transformative translation attempts can also be considered resistant in their defiance of Eurocentric translation trends. From the perspective of SST, resistance can be described in these cases as an attempt at expressing or promoting an ideology which counters dominant ideologies and as the exercise of social counter-force. Reasons for employing translation in such processes have shown variance. With Sol Plaatje and Antjie Krog’s endeavours, translation’s ability to express cultural prestige and invite admiration provided the motivation for its resistant use. In the case of Indian opinion, translation served as a means of mediating ideologysupporting information across language barriers. Inter-societal message dissemination similarly accounted for the use of translation in the case of anti-apartheid literary activism. Resistant translation’s employment possibilities and successful functioning were shown to be generally limited by social conditions. For this reason, only one large-scale case of resistant translation (latter twentieth-century literary translation) was observed throughout South African history. Several factors worked together to enable the success of translation in this case, such as the increasing strength of oppression, which elicited increased resistance, the privileged position of certain message creators, ideological conditions in environmental systems, etc. This illustrates that for subversive translation to achieve its purposes, environmental “cooperation” or the weakening of dominant social forces on several fronts is required. Like resistant translation, oppressive translation manifested in multifarious ways throughout South African history and several cases of translation can be considered reflective of oppressive power relations and ideologies. These include naturalist translation, missionary translation (to a certain extent and in certain cases) and translation under Bantu education and within the apartheid homelands. Finally, the current lack of translation in democratic South Africa can also be considered oppressive. One commonality in these cases is that oppressive translation is

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most often not acknowledged as such, and second-order observation is often required to point out this relation. Naturalist translation was conducted within an ideological atmosphere that endorsed racial bias to such an extent that translation practices would certainly not have been acknowledged as being oppressive in the sense that it is today. The same is true of the cases of missionary translation which showed cultural and evangelical “conflation”. Government translation practices under apartheid were more deliberately oppressive and attempts at hiding malign motivations through the apparent recognition of African culture through language promotion, etc. indicate recognition of translation’s oppressive use. Yet the justification of oppression was perhaps similarly “self-evident” within the reigning ideological climate. Current translation practices are difficult to assign a position on the deliberate versus inadvertent continuum, but they can certainly not be considered as deliberately oppressive as apartheid uses of translation. The fact that many oppressive cases of translation would not be recognised as such by “perpetrators” implies the strength of ideology in masking power relations and as a natural or obvious state of affairs. The very existence of a power struggle may not even be recognised in some of these cases. This highlights the importance of perspective and second-order observation in matters pertaining to translation and power relations and is an important Luhmannian contribution to discourse on translation and oppression, which is otherwise well established within translation studies. The hidden nature of power struggles in certain cases is not an excuse for oppression, but relates to our ability to explain such phenomena and their prevalence from a sociological and historical perspective. In relation to current translation practices in particular, it suggests the greater need to introduce second-order observation into systemic reflection as a means of overcoming ideologically induced “blindness”. However, this raises the problem that second-order observation is also not ideologically free and can be brought into question within systemic self-reflection. The final function of translation highlighted in the research presented in this book was transformative translation in relation to post-apartheid social reform, which was seen to be a small-scale practice involving the recognition of indigenous languages and cultures. This function is

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limited to a few literary and educational translation initiatives. Its manifestation in the educational system is enabled by educational ideologies that recognise the importance of reading culturally relevant material in a mother tongue and is therefore perhaps secondary to pedagogical intentions. Its manifestation in the literary system is more direct and relates to the literary system’s ability to express cultural values, yet the coupling between the literary and economic systems and dominant literary trends have prevented large-scale expression. Although this phenomenon was discussed particularly in relation to post-apartheid South African social transformation, where a need for racial reconciliation and the evening out of cultural power relations exists, similar social “needs” also exist in other societies and the transformative function of translation can therefore be carried over to other social contexts and may be deserving of more attention from translation scholars. This type of translation is similar to resistant translation, but it differs in the degree of offensiveness and in the specific focus on social redress in the case of transformative translation. So, what do these various functions of translation suggest concerning translation’s conceptualisation on the whole? At the very least, they underscore the fact that when translation is viewed in terms of its social operation, particularly in contrast to its linguistic characteristics, its function is distinctly protean. They suggest that various other functions of translation are imaginable and “discoverable” (given translation’s tendency to operate in hidden ways) in other social contexts and therefore point towards the potential for many new findings regarding translation’s social operation in less researched parts of the world. Translation’s “subservience” to client systems and the host of social functions that potentially result from its position implies that unique descriptions of translation in different national or regional contexts are possible. This has implications for the development of regionally specific translation theories or at least allows a greater focus on regionally relevant matters, which is particularly necessary in the under-represented African context. Matters such as transformative translation or translation in the context of social exclusion, for example, are likely to be contextualised very differently in sub-Saharan Africa and in the developed Western world. For this reason, there is merit to elaborating such ideas along regionally

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specific lines based upon an adequate unveiling of translation’s specific regional operation. Although this does not follow directly from the various social functions of translation mentioned in this section, translation’s autonomy or its development according to its own autopoiesis, which in a certain sense is the counterpole to its proteanism, represents a potentially productive avenue for further research. In this case, the tension between the outward influences on translation versus its inward stability and ability to cluster its communication and reproduce based upon its self-reflection provides the background to further consider the nature of translation and translation studies in specific regional contexts. In spite of the above-mentioned relevance, it is unlikely that uncovering translation’s social operation, as this research has done, is able to fundamentally affect what we know about translation or contribute significantly to our basic conceptualisation of translation. This research instead affirms and underscores what has already been shown since the cultural and sociological turns in translation studies. In other words, although the social functions of translation uncovered possess the potential to direct studies on translation in slightly different ways or to highlight different or under-emphasised aspects of translation’s social role, it has not significantly challenged what is known about translation, but instead built upon already familiar ideas.

Trends in Translational Direction and Inter-Cultural Relations Trends related to translational direction reflect power relations by indicating whether a system or a language is generally on the receiving or producing end in message exchange, with each of these positions being related in different ways to power roles. This is complemented by translation’s ability to reflect cultural association by reflecting trends where certain language combinations are favoured while others are neglected. Because of the close relationship between these trends in their relation to cultural prestige, they are considered together in this section.

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One obvious trend observed throughout this book regarding intersocietal translation trends is the constant link between Western societies (particularly Western European societies) and South Africa. This is of course not surprising within the context of colonisation, whose effects of cultural association have endured well into the twenty-first century. Colonisation initially directed translation trends in a way that reflected not only exchange between Western and South African societies, but the control and initiation of translation by Western societies as a reflection of dominance. After the establishment of an encompassing functionally differentiated South African society in the early twentieth century, the initiation of translation was transferred to South African society as far as general trends are concerned. During the first half of the twentieth century, the South African literary system took the lead to initiate translation with Europe in order to serve the interests of this newly-established society, particularly in line with ideological motivations to elevate the Afrikaans language and Afrikaner culture. This reflects a change in power relations in the sense that local society, though still not fully independent from Europe, had gained greater autonomy and was beginning to manifest its own power, systemic “vitality” and processes of identity formation by initiating translation. South African society’s continued commissioning of large amounts of literary translation from the West in the latter twentieth century was balanced by the international community’s initiation of literary translational exchange with South African society. This was the first time that translation between South Africa and environmental societies displayed a degree of reciprocity and although apartheid provided a significant ideological stimulus, this also reflected the maturation of the South African literary system as an expression of social power. A literary exchange relationship with the Western world has remained in democratic South Africa and is telling of lingering Western cultural affiliation. In line with language policy and cultural power relations, internal translation trends have focused on the English-Afrikaans language pair throughout most of the twentieth century. A flip in the dominant direction from English to Afrikaans as the main donor language in public administration in the 1960s indicated a change in domestic language

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status and cultural status. This status was again inverted with democratisation, although a lack of translation rather than translational direction has indicated this development, which is unlikely to change soon, given the prestige associated with English. The political system has been the most significant determiner of internal translation practices, particularly due to its role in determining and either enforcing or not enforcing language policy. In systems that are free from language policy constraints, such as the literary system, the English-Afrikaans combination has dominated throughout the twentieth century and continues to dominate in the present. This reflects a similar sociopolitical landscape and language prestige. The dominant position of these languages locally was also indicated in cases of literary translation involving the African languages in the predominantly unidirectional nature of exchanges. In the religious and political systems, trends involving the African languages were similarly unidirectional in general, although characterised by the position of the African languages as receptor languages. This reverse directionality also reflected the subordinate position of African languages and black South Africans, however. This distillation of translation into directional and inter-cultural trends therefore clearly shows the lasting effect that inter-cultural power relations established during the colonial period and perpetuated under apartheid have had on the present translation landscape in terms of cultural relations and translation’s expression of socio-economic realities.

8.2

An Evaluation of Social Systems Theory

This concluding review of SST focuses on what particular insights could be derived from the viewpoint assumed, its benefits and its shortcomings. Particular aspects of the theory which are granted attention include the vantage point and scope provided and the implications concerning translation’s social operation. In terms of vantage point, SST not only enables very broad observation of translation in relation to society or societies, but also enables the assumption of different levels of proximity to social constructs, making the theory rather versatile. This research has shifted perspective mainly

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between three levels: sub-systemic, societal and inter-societal, with the societal level forming a pivot that links discussions at the other levels and provides the over-arching vantage point. In addition, it allows analysis of translation in closer relation to specific function systems or even programmes or organisations, on the one hand, and enables consideration of translation’s functioning in even broader ways in relation to regional or global information flows, on the other. This spectrum of perspectives offered by SST further has the benefit of remaining distinctly sociological without digressing into psychological or idiosyncratic phenomena by virtue of the analytical tools it provides. These various possible perspectives offer rich possibilities for further investigation of translation’s social operation in South Africa and elsewhere. Although Luhmann was a proponent of an international view of modern society, this study, like Tyulenev’s study of Russian translation, has shown that nations are very capable of being described as distinct autopoietic entities and that systemic behaviour in the context of nations displays enough variance to warrant such investigation. In fact, the ways in which translation draws attention to language barriers make the consideration of national distinctions particularly relevant (although language barriers can also exist intra- and inter-nationally and may prescribe different vantage points depending on their occurrence). While SST’s focus on structures and de-emphasis on human agents makes it particularly fitting for investigation of translation at a very broad and general level, its inability to account easily for human agency is something which has understandably attracted much critique. While humans can be discussed within an SST perspective, their discussion is complicated by their location outside of society and they are “disempowered” by the focus on abstract social forces. This means that even though communication is attributed to humans, it is not easy to link those humans with the produced communication, which is abstracted into a biologically inspired complex of stimulations and responses. The focus on communication within systems imbues systems with a “life” of their own, which is influenced in complex ways by other systems or events or by their own autopoiesis, but is not easily changed by human effort. This has implications regarding SST’s usefulness in addressing translation-related problems. Although it is useful in

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pointing out constraints by considering the complex environments of mutual interaction which influence social trends, it is not very useful in prescribing paths of action. Conversely, theories which emphasise agency may over-account for people’s ability to change society and therefore lead to unrealistic recommendations. The tendency for sociological theories to polarise structure and agency is indeed problematic as far as practical social issues are concerned and the simultaneous acknowledgement of both influences is present in only a few theories, which have been subjected to harsh critique for their supposed inability to conceptualise the interrelationship. The problem can be summarised as how to avoid a complete separation of structure and agency without losing their distinctions. Some theories which find themselves around the middle of the structure-agency continuum include Pierre Bourdieu’s field theory, Anthony Giddens’ structuration theory, Margaret Archer’s morphogenesis theory and neo-Gramscian historicism, of which only the first has enjoyed significant attention by translation scholars. The latter three in particular are therefore suggested as potentially fruitful theories worth exploring within translation research directed particularly at solving social language issues. Findings stemming from structureoriented research could also potentially complement those stemming from agency-oriented research in attempts to find a middle ground. For example, structurally based research might identify a need for ideological change in order to bring about language reform, while agency-based research might suggest the role of academics or so-called organic intellectuals (to use a Gramscian example) to spearhead such reform. However, this is less ideal, and theoretical differences may be difficult to reconcile in such an approach. But solving practical problems is not the only purpose of sociologically inspired research in translation. As far as it relates to theorisation about translation’s social operation in the interest of broadening the field of translation studies, SST, with the scope it provides, is indeed very useful, mainly for its ability to identify trends and describe the social position and function of translation. SST therefore possesses significant theoretical benefits.

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The theoretical significance of the description of translation as an autopoietic function system relates to translation’s importance in the context of a society. Tracing its emergence as a system thus indicated its increasing social importance. Viewing translation as an autopoietic system also allows for a very detailed and sophisticated description of its particular function for society. It was translation’s description as an autopoietic system that allowed its mediatorial function and its relationship with other systems to be described in a very intricate manner. The relationships of coupling and conditioning between the translation system and other systems could be described because of the recognition of translation as a system. Similarly, translation’s autonomy could be described via the concept of autopoiesis because of its description as a system. Such application of systemic characteristics to the translation function and to translation’s social environment facilitates appreciation and understanding of translation’s complex social function. Finally, although power and ideology are not specifically built into Luhmann’s theory, these can be described in unconventional and novel ways within the framework of SST. The description of translation’s “susceptibility” to societal and environmental forces and its selective operation on the borders of client systems accounted for its mirroring, perpetuation or contestation of power relations and ideological trends. Power was seen as the ability to control or dominate communication and was manifested via translation in various ways such as closing off or opening up prestigious domains of society to human participants and asserting culture. Ideology was seen to be manifested in ideologemes or expressions of ideology, which were related to translation practices by means of Luhmann’s communication model. Consideration of translation’s mediatory functioning as a selectively functioning semi-permeable membrane offered a fresh way to consider translation’s relationship with power and ideology, particularly in relation to typical Bourdieusian concepts. Therefore, this perspective has offered many benefits and has brought to light factors related to translation’s social functioning that point towards much further research potential. It is hoped that this book would be able to serve as a basis for further and deeper investigation into South African translation and stimulate similar research in other

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parts of Africa and other under-represented regions of the world. Similar investigation of translation’s characteristics as a system, development into a system and particular reflection of power relations and ideologies in other national contexts would be very valuable. Comparison and contrast between translation’s socio-historical operation in this national context and other contexts could also be enlightening, irrespective of the theoretical approach followed. I therefore invite not only further research along similar lines, but other forms of complementary research, even in ways which scrutinise the current approach.

Index

Symbols

/Xam 94, 95, 198

Autopoiesis 22–25, 28, 32, 34, 40, 63, 144–146, 217, 218, 220, 227, 230, 232

B A

Afrikaans 96–100, 108, 114–121, 127, 128, 136, 144, 146–150, 153, 154, 157–169, 174, 183, 185, 186, 190, 191, 195–200, 202–209, 219, 223, 228 Apartheid 12, 112, 119, 127, 129, 137, 141–145, 148, 151, 153–155, 157–163, 165, 166, 169–173, 175, 179–182, 186, 192, 194, 199, 203, 220, 224, 225, 228, 229 Appleyard, John 77–79, 83 Arabic 96–99, 162, 171, 219

Bantu education 127, 154, 155, 157, 159, 169, 203, 224 Bible 50, 69, 73, 77, 79, 83, 86–90, 92, 99, 114, 115, 150–152, 156 Bleek, Wilhelm 69, 94, 95, 198 Boundaries 11, 12, 25, 35, 38, 39, 41, 61, 63, 70, 77, 83, 93, 101, 109, 120, 121, 126, 180, 186, 218, 223 Bourdieu, Pierre 10, 16–18, 231 Breytenbach, Breyten 161, 162, 172, 196 Brink, André P. 161, 166, 196, 199

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2020 M. Botha, Power and Ideology in South African Translation, Translation History, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-61063-0

235

236

Index

Büttner, Johan 56 C

Callaway, Henry 90 Cape 49–52, 55, 57, 58, 65, 69, 71, 76, 96, 97, 99 Casalis, Eugène 87–89, 95 Coetzee, J.M. 59, 60, 168, 170–172, 192, 194 Colenso, Bishop John 91–93 Colonisation 2, 8, 21, 43, 46, 49, 53, 63, 144, 200, 218, 228 Culture 2, 44, 52, 74, 78, 82, 83, 85, 86, 88, 89, 92, 94, 99, 108, 118, 131, 133, 137, 141, 152, 167, 175, 187, 198, 201, 203, 208, 209, 225, 228, 232

English 12, 55, 57, 58, 62, 81, 85, 90, 92, 94, 108, 109, 112, 117–119, 123–130, 132, 134–136, 138, 146, 147, 154, 157–164, 168–170, 174, 183–186, 189–195, 197–200, 203–205, 207, 208, 210, 229 Environment 4, 6, 7, 10, 15, 20, 22–25, 28, 29, 32, 36, 37, 46, 50, 51, 62, 63, 82, 96, 113, 126, 145, 146, 151, 153, 164, 167, 218, 231, 232 Exclusion 108, 121, 122, 136, 180, 185, 186, 189, 191, 201, 210, 211, 219, 226

F D

David, Gabriel 84, 85, 131, 132 de Flacourt, Étienne 55 de Grevenbroek, Wilhelm 56, 57 Democracy 142, 164, 180, 181, 183, 188 Durkheim, Émile 5, 6 Dutch 12, 43–45, 49–52, 54–57, 62, 65, 69, 70, 73, 96, 112, 114–117, 135, 137, 162–164, 174, 193, 195–197

French 50, 52, 55, 57, 58, 62, 87, 88, 117, 130, 131, 135, 162, 172–174, 192, 193, 197, 203 Functional differentiation 17, 21, 49, 50, 54, 70–73, 101, 107, 111, 112, 119, 122, 137, 142, 153, 181, 182, 216, 219 Function systems 11, 17, 18, 20, 22–25, 29, 36, 37, 39–41, 50, 51, 63, 102, 112, 113, 119, 121, 142, 146, 153, 186, 210, 216–219, 221, 223, 230, 232

E

Education 50, 61, 70, 74, 79, 80, 96, 99, 128, 143, 154, 182, 190 Emergence 11, 20–22, 39, 47, 49, 50, 71, 75, 142, 150, 151, 197, 220, 232

G

Gandhi, Mohandas 122–125, 137, 138 German 50, 54–58, 62, 94, 117, 131, 135, 162, 163, 172–174, 180, 192, 193, 197, 203

Index

Gordimer, Nadine 168, 170–172, 192, 194 Gqoba, William 79 Gujarati 124–126

237

K

Khoesan 47, 48, 69, 93–95, 101, 103 Kolb, Peter 53, 56, 57, 59 Koran 96, 99 Krog, Antjie 91, 196–201, 224

H

Hermans, Theo 11, 16, 18, 20, 21, 23, 25, 26, 28, 30–35, 41, 96, 193 Hetero-reference 25, 28, 29, 62, 78, 82, 222 Historiography 4, 9 Homelands 127, 148, 154, 157–159, 224

I

Ideologeme 37, 53, 61, 113, 120, 121, 136, 152, 189, 217, 222, 232 Indian opinion 122–125, 138, 224 Indigenous 44–46, 50, 51, 53, 54, 58, 60–64, 69, 70, 72, 74, 75, 83, 84, 89, 90, 92, 94, 95, 102, 108, 116, 127, 135, 154, 156–159, 169, 179, 183, 198, 199, 209, 217–219, 221, 225 Information 2, 8, 11, 26, 27, 29, 32, 33, 35, 36, 38, 51, 52, 57, 60, 62, 63, 70, 76, 81, 87, 95, 120, 121, 126, 136, 138, 154, 167, 176, 184, 188, 191, 201, 204, 205, 218, 223, 224 Intelligibility barrier 11, 31, 38, 41, 186, 191, 210

L

Language development 118, 127, 136, 154, 157–159, 183, 219, 223 domain 146, 157, 186, 190 policy 113, 119, 121, 146, 183, 185–189, 194, 202, 211, 217, 219, 228, 229 status 76, 96, 102, 121, 136, 185, 186, 190, 192, 197, 204–207, 229 Latin 54, 55, 57, 62, 135 le Vaillant, François 58, 59 Literacy 184, 186, 191 Literature 1, 32, 50, 65, 80, 81, 87, 89, 90, 115, 117–120, 127–129, 131, 132, 137, 155, 156, 160–170, 172–174, 187, 192–199, 203, 206, 210, 220 Lloyd, Lucy 94, 95, 198 Luhmann, Niklas 4, 6, 10, 16–30, 33, 35, 37–41, 46, 49, 60, 63, 77, 81, 86, 121, 122, 201, 230, 232

M

Malay-Afrikaans 69, 96–98 Mediation 11, 35, 36, 41, 120, 164, 186

238

Index

Missionary 69, 70, 72, 74–78, 81–84, 86, 88–90, 92, 93, 101, 109, 110, 114, 128, 130, 151, 155, 222–225 Moffat, Robert 83, 84 Mofolo, Thomas 128–131, 134, 135, 198 Monolingualism 183, 188

Reciprocity 70, 88, 91, 92, 228 Representation 31–33, 35, 36, 59, 63, 64, 95, 131, 156, 185 Resistance 51, 72, 75, 81, 86, 99, 101, 107, 109, 115, 122, 123, 126, 141, 142, 151, 161, 163, 169, 175, 176, 192, 224 Rubusana, Mpilo 79–81

N

Nationalism 8, 70, 73, 79–81, 89, 101, 107–109, 111, 112, 114, 121, 122, 127, 130, 132, 136, 137, 141, 148, 151, 169, 223 Naturalist 45, 58, 60, 63, 72, 82, 94, 95, 222–225 Neoliberalism 180 Nida, Eugene 150–152 O

Oppression 2, 8, 45, 70, 80, 122, 135, 137, 141, 142, 169, 173, 175, 182, 219, 224, 225 P

Plaatje, Sol 85, 128, 129, 131–135, 156, 223, 224 Prestige 2, 7, 38, 108, 121, 135, 136, 164, 185, 186, 203, 204, 219, 220, 223, 224, 227, 229 Publishing 74, 128, 157, 164–166, 169, 172, 173, 203, 205–207, 209 R

Read, James 82

S

San 47, 48, 65, 94 SATI. See South African Translator’s Institute Satyagraha 122–126, 136, 138 Second-order observation 29, 30, 34, 63, 120, 225 Segmented society 39, 46, 47, 70–72, 78, 84, 86, 217 Selection 7, 24, 26, 33, 59–62, 87, 120, 121, 125, 137, 163, 164, 186, 194, 196, 222, 223 Self-reference 25, 28, 29, 62, 63, 78, 82, 222 Self-reflection 34, 135, 168, 225, 227 Semi-permeable membrane 11, 15, 63, 102, 120, 232 Serian, John 84, 85 Sestigers 160–166 Shakespeare, William 165 Smit, Bartho 163, 166, 167 Social systems theory 4, 6, 15, 18, 28, 44, 86, 109, 142, 180, 222 Sociology 3–6, 9, 16, 21, 23 Soga, Tiyo 78–80, 85 South African Translator’s Institute 147

Index

239

South African War 72, 107, 109, 112, 114–116 Southern Sotho 75, 87, 127, 129, 131, 155, 156 Sparrman, Anders 58, 61 SST. See Social systems theory Static Maintenance Syndrome 180, 190 Stimulus 23, 50, 51, 99, 112, 175, 196, 204, 217, 228 Stratification 2, 111, 113, 122, 131, 159, 182, 203 Structural coupling 25, 28, 32, 36, 40, 62, 63, 78, 86, 112, 113, 144–146, 164, 167, 183

Tswana 75, 82–87, 93, 132–135, 155, 156 Tyulenev, Sergey 5, 8, 10–12, 17, 18, 24, 25, 28, 30, 31, 33–38, 41, 96, 230

T

Valentyn, François 56, 57 van der Kemp, Johannes 76 Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie 49 VOC. See Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie

U

Umma 99, 100 Understanding 2, 4, 8, 25–28, 33, 35, 39–41, 86, 129, 132, 199, 200, 215, 232 Utterance 26–28, 32, 33, 35, 37, 60–62, 82, 86, 95, 96, 201, 222, 223

V

Ten Rhyne, Willem 55, 56 Thunberg, Carl 58 Transformation 44, 81, 110, 133, 136, 192, 195, 198–201, 210, 226 Translation Buro 146, 147, 149, 150, 175 Translation studies 3, 4, 8, 9, 64, 221, 224, 225, 227, 231 Translation system 32, 34–37, 40, 50, 126, 146, 148, 149, 151, 153, 159, 164, 181, 186, 220, 232 Trends 4, 5, 7, 12, 17, 33, 34, 44, 45, 62, 69, 70, 72, 76, 82, 87, 93, 129, 135, 137, 142, 145, 146, 148, 151, 160–162, 174, 194, 198, 199, 201, 204, 206, 210, 215, 216, 218, 221, 222, 224, 226–229, 231, 232

W

Western 20, 22, 45, 47–51, 53, 57, 59, 60, 63, 64, 69, 70, 72, 74, 75, 78, 84, 86, 88, 89, 91, 93–95, 101, 102, 117, 125, 144, 147, 164, 167, 208, 217–219, 223, 226, 228 West, the 50, 142, 162, 163, 167, 168, 174, 228 Witsen, Nicolaas 55 Wreede, Georg 52, 55

240

Index

X

Z

Xhosa 56, 58, 74–79, 81–83, 85, 87, 92, 128, 155, 156, 206, 209, 210

Zulu 71, 75, 89–95, 102, 128, 155, 156, 184, 206, 209