Why Language Matters: Part VI

Narratives, Mythmaking, Ukraine and AI

Reality, Myth and Language

The notion of Ukraine not being “a real place” seems to also be reflected in language, especially the Slavic languages, as Snyder also points out. Normally, in Slovak, we would say “na Ukrajine” to refer to anything that is located or happening “in Ukraine”. But “na” doesn’t mean “in”, but rather “on” – this creates a notion that something can’t really be happening “in” Ukraine because it doesn’t have real defined boundaries or borders, thus, it’s not a “real” place.

But we can be “in Russia” – “v Rusku” (literally, “inside” Russia) – within the borders of something that, as the narrative goes, actually exists. There seems to be an argument that this creates and fuels the narrative, supported by language and linguistics, that Ukraine is not a “real” place – we can’t really “enter” it; we can only be seemingly “on” (top of) it or passing over it. Only once it becomes a part of Russia (or The Great Rus’), it’s going to become a “real” place, and we would be able to enter it.

It creates the structure of a myth: where there are clearly defined and constructed concepts of “good” and “evil”; black and white; or the righteous ones and those who are wrong. While this is great to have and follow in what Tolkien refers to as “faërie” or fairy stories (not fairy tales – Shrek or Hansel and Grettel – rather, large-scale narratives springing from far-reaching history and linguistics), it is impossible to apply this view on the functioning of the modern world and reality. Or at least dangerous, conflict-inducing and manipulative.

Of course, from the linguistic POV, you could argue: but “Cuba”, for example. In Slavic languages, we can only be “na Kube” (literally, on Cuba). Sure, but there is a way to refer to Cuba in different terms – as the Republic of Cuba. And now, we can be “in” the Republic of Cuba. Same sort of thing goes for Slovakia. We would say “na Slovensku” – similarly to “na Ukrajine” – “on Slovakia”/“on Ukraine”; but in the case of Slovakia, we seem to have an alternative: in the Slovak Republic.

According to official records and information I have managed to gather, the only official name for Ukraine is indeed Ukraine (no “Republic of Ukraine” etc.) or, if you wish, transliterated “Ukrayina”.

This does not seem to always work and be true (for all countries or states, that is), and Snyder might be a bit off in this case, but it is nevertheless an interesting linguistic phenomenon influencing, fuelling and underpinning some of the narratives we have seen perpetuated over the last decade.

And given that narratives are powerful, and hold power and influence over our lives; over how we think about the world around us, we need to acknowledge that the way we talk about these things – the way we construct said narratives, also matters. And as the narratives in question are inevitably created through language, we can see that language, and how we use it, matters. It may reflect history, power struggles, relationships, changes and developments around us.

Language has the power to influence the way we think about “real-world” concepts – such as sovereignty, freedom, statehood, nations and international relations.

As Snyder writes: “The control of language is necessary to undermine a legal or constitutional order…”

And the responsible use of language for self-expression and dissemination of ideas is necessary to uphold a legal and constitutional order, freedom and democratic values.

Language, stories and narratives are our store of meaning. Meaning inevitably leads to authority; thus, those who can influence meaning, can seize authority. Meaning is facilitated and transmitted through language. And whoever (or, more likely, whatever) will hold the dominion over language will inevitably be in control of meaning – and thus, legal and constitutional order and authority. Or, as we call it, less abstractly, the state and the world we live in.

As we increasingly yield language to statistical models and machines, one may only wonder what the ensuing narratives will look and sound like. In this case, I can see the upside in “handing” the power over language to something without ambitions, emotions, lust, greed, bias (?) or desire to conquer and subdue. The question in this case remains, who will be in possession of the data?

Will it be the state? Will it be private companies? Will it be “we the people”?

Language has always been an inherent part of human culture, forming the narratives and history of nations. Will this change with the (imaginary) changing of guards? Could the use of language devoid of desire, emotion or ambition – a use based on data centralised by conglomerates or state actors – lead to a better and more prosperous world?

It just could be the case that with the increasing power and use of AI, there will be some groups left behind and significantly worse off; but overall, humanity will gain and develop in the right direction. And who is to stand in the way?