A true hallmark of any dominant entity is how much resentment people accord to it. Americans studying abroad face many of the same stigmata even after Bush’s presidency ended.
Among the many international communities I encountered in Jerusalem, despite being familiar with Arab/Russian/French/British/Australian/German/Israeli culture, I was treated the same way as most Americans: with a cool acceptance but also a barrier of distance. That was because I come from the one culture that unites the world, the one international community that unites all international communities.
This community is the United States, with an omnipresence in most developed countries that enables Americans to feel at home everywhere. This is definitely not the case for many foreigners here. The monolingual street signs in Connecticut gave me an eyesore after being accustomed to the trilingual ones in Israel.
America is balefully treated for being dominant and not accepting, and the English language gets equally criticized. The notion that English is complicated—perhaps the most complicated language overall—does not detract from some of the negativity. It is a language that American culture has forced many to learn, whereas Americans on the all live monolingual lives.
Is it fair that English and America are treated identically and live parallel lives? Is it also fair to say that America is entirely what gives the English Language its solemn birthright?
The English Language’s character arose well before it became an entity in its own right. Let’s look at the world before there was English. In what place did many European languages have their origin? The Roman Empire—obviously.
Did they speak the same language? Latin was indeed the most dominant one.
But did they have other divisions, aside from the provinces themselves? Undeniably.
One of these divisions, still standing as a regional difference today, is the varying popularity of famous figures. Would Dante be revered in America to the same extent that he is in Italy? Certainly not. Throughout time, regions choose their celebrities based on their values.
Who was the orator most beloved in Britannia? The famed Marcus Tullius Cicero, noteworthy for his chickpea-shaped head (His given name is from “Cicer” in Latin, meaning a chickpea). His skill was not equally appreciated in all places—Gaul chose Julius Caesar as their “patron saint”.
What was the man like? He was a noble person despite his deliberate conceit. Cicero took a greatly logical approach to every issue he decided to address, and is now taught to students of rhetoric everywhere. (I’ll let his anti-Semitism slide this once).
Cicero’s style is fierce and demands a listening presence that hypnotizes you into nodding. Those who he praises feel blessed solely on account of the fact that Cicero praises them, his targets are marked for life as pariahs. As Seneca said at the funeral, the only person capable of aptly praising all that Cicero did would be another Cicero.
Imagine the best aspects of the English language—its compelling words, its capacity for expression, and its arsenal for polemic. Do American values seem as ingrained in English as do Cicero’s? With every word and sentence of English I speak, especially emotionally charged ones, I feel like Tully himself as I decorate every sentence with flowery and repetitious expression the way he did.
Even Shakespeare could not influence English as much as Cicero did. His style fell over Britannia and his influence remained in place as the language was being formed. Shakespeare could only shift the foundations, whereas Cicero was the author of the blueprints.
Let us keep in mind that the same perceptions given to Americans today were the same perceptions that Cicero’s peers had towards the great orator himself.