Publication | The Slow Fall of Babel: Languages and Identities in Late Antique Christianity

What does it mean to be labeled a foreign language speaker in late antique Christianity? How was one’s status as a native or non-native speaker determined? Was such a person considered a heretic? A barbarian? A Christian of equal standing? A saint or a demon?

To frame this problem in more tangible terms, let’s imagine a respectable Greek-speaking churchgoer in fourth-century Constantinople. He may have been aware that there were some strange and presumably “barbarian” people in remote regions of the empire and beyond, who spoke their “bizarre” languages and who nevertheless regarded themselves as Christians. Did our Constantinopolitan fellow consider them to be Christians of equal status who just happened to speak another language? Or did he take the fact that these people spoke and prayed to God in a different tongue to affect their standing as Christians?

My book, The Slow Fall of Babel: Languages and Identities in Late Antique Christianity, forthcoming with Cambridge University Press, explores early Christian ideas about foreign languages, linguistic history, and linguistic diversity. Over the course of six chapters, I investigate how language differences and language-related socio-cultural stereotypes were drawn into the process of constructing and negotiating distinctly Christian and specific confessional identities in the late antique Mediterranean.

The Slow Fall of Babel is a story about the transformation of how the increasingly Christianized elites of the late antique Mediterranean experienced and conceptualized linguistic differences. The metaphor of Babel stands for the magnificent edifice of classical culture that was about to reach the sky, but it remained self-sufficient and self-contained in its virtual monolingualism. Within this paradigm even Latin was sometimes considered just a dialect of Greek. The gradual erosion of this vision is the slow fall of Babel that took place in the hearts and minds of a good number of early Christian writers and intellectuals who represented various languages and literary traditions. This step-by-step process included the discovery and internalization of the fact that there were multiple other languages in the world as well as subsequent attempts to meaningfully incorporate speakers of diverse languages into the holistic and distinctly Christian picture of the universe.

The very concept of a foreign language is problematic and deserves further discussion. Within the first few centuries, Christianity reached speakers of Latin, Coptic, Syriac, Gothic, Ethiopic, Georgian, Armenian, Arabic, and numerous other languages. They were all “foreign language speakers” with respect to each other. Experiences of bilingual and multilingual individuals undoubtedly complicated the picture further. This presupposes a mind-boggling variety of perspectives and, unfortunately, not all of them are adequately reflected in sources. Therefore, my analysis here is Mediterranean-centric. It accounts for positions articulated by Greek, Latin, and Syriac writers with occasional references to Coptic texts.

My research contributes to the ongoing discussion about the role language played in shaping Christian communities in the region. Specifically, my book queries how Christian intellectuals “used” language to forge their religious identities. Even our idiom - “to use a language” – risks oversimplification. In my book I not only discuss those who “used” a language by speaking or writing in it, but also those who referred to language in their ideological speculations on Christian identity. The book introduces the concept of “communities of linguistic sensitivities” – a notion that helps to nuance our vision of cultural processes in Late Antiquity. The notion refers to groups whose members developed a similar, though not exactly identical, set of emotional and intellectual dispositions toward other languages and their speakers. Such a community would include people disposed to imagine the “alloglottic Other” and react to them in a like manner, sharing imaginary taxonomies and genealogies of languages and their speakers. The history of early Christianity can be narrated through the formation of such dynamic communities around the Mediterranean – communities whose ideas and views on languages were informed not only by biblical narratives and cultural categories inherited from Classical Antiquity, but also by the dramatic social and demographic transformations of Late Antiquity. In addition to “communities of linguistic sensitivities,” the Introduction defines such important concepts to be used in the book as “metalinguistic comments,” “the alloglottic Other,” “objectification of language,” “linguistic awareness,” “a different language”.

The first chapter, “Meeting the Alloglottic Other,” provides an overview of the socio-linguistic landscape of the late antique Mediterranean where early Christian writers lived, worked, and developed their ideas on languages and religious identities. I draw attention to the disjunction between the historical realities of language use and the theoretical speculations of late antique Christian writers. I also attend briefly to Christian encounters with foreign cultures and languages as the movement expanded to inquire how the socio-linguistic situation in the ancient Mediterranean influenced the development of Christianity in this formative period. At the same time, I observe the ways Christianity affected linguistic processes in the region. The spread of Christianity among various peoples and ethnic groups within and without the gradually disintegrating Roman empire was concurrent with complex formative processes within Christianity itself and took place amidst Trinitarian and Christological debates. Languages and linguistic distinctions played an important role in these controversies.

The ways in which foreign language speakers appeared in the Biblical and Classical literature provided tropes, references, and allusions widely employed by early Christian authors. Therefore, the second chapter, “Languages and Identities in Greco-Roman and Jewish Antiquity,” starts with an analysis of ancient Greek literary, historical, and philosophical compositions, from Homer to Aristotle, and investigates why the intellectual horizon of the Classical Greek literati was virtually monolingual. It then proceeds to an overview of developments in the Hellenistic and early Roman eras and traces how the monolingual antiquity of Classical Greece gradually became the bilingual universe of the Roman empire, where Latin always shared its prestigious status as a vehicle of culture with Greek. The final section focuses on how early Jewish writers depicted foreign languages and their speakers and how they adapted multilingual self-expression. I demonstrate throughout this chapter that language was rarely a decisive factor of group identity and suggest that linguistic differences contribute (but do not determine) the consolidation and objectification of identity.

The next stage of my argument turns to the development of the multiple versions of linguistic history circulating among late antique Christians. The biblical story about the tower of Babel and the confusion of tongues (Gen. 11.1–9) was usually (but not always) understood as the start of linguistic diversification. I explore early Christian ideas about the primordial language, usually identified with Hebrew. Fourth- and fifth-century writers discussed whether Hebrew ceased or continued to exist after Babel, and whether Heber or Abraham was instrumental in preserving the original tongue. These biblical figures and various scenarios of language history they represented were claimed by competing Christian and Jewish historical discourses. These linguistic discussions contributed to consolidating their corresponding religious identities. I have also considered alternative views about the primordial language to be evidence of the continuous debates about originality, ontological power, and the relative prestige of languages in Late Antiquity.

Alongside the tower of Babel, the description of “speaking in tongues” (glōssais lalein) at Pentecost (Acts 2) and Paul’s exhortations (1 Cor. 12–14) became important points of reference in Christian discussions about languages and religious identity. Second- and third-century authors either presented the phenomenon as ecstatic speaking with an uncertain degree of intelligibility or simply quoted biblical passages without any explanation. Explicit descriptions of the gift of tongues as a miraculous ability that enabled apostles to preach abroad in foreign languages (xenolalia) are dated to the fourth century and attested in Greek, Syriac, and Latin texts. The alternative view that “speaking in tongues” refers to angelic languages waned in popularity. As time passed, different Christian traditions and authors developed distinct interpretations for what phenomenon “speaking in tongues” described. Xenolalia is not so much a default interpretation, but a way to channel growing concerns in the fourth century and onwards about foreign languages and their speakers.

In light of this historical inquiry, I return to the imaginary Constantinopolitan fellow referenced above. Would he assume the inferiority of Syriac- or Coptic-speaking Christians? Were his Syriac-speaking contemporaries likely to harbor similar suspicions about those snobbish Greeks, whose language is unnecessarily florid and pretentious? Did Hellenophones project stereotypes of Semitic languages as rude and barbarian onto their speakers? Did Latin-speaking Christians reflect on the fact that they had access to the Bible only through translations and that Latin appeared late on the Christian avant-scène? How did these sentiments overlap with the distinctions in Trinitarian and Christological views?

Many cases illustrate the difference between actual language use and elite language ideologies. Followers of the Chalcedonian and Miaphysite doctrines, for example, initially both included speakers of Greek and Syriac. It seems that both groups remained, to a great extent, bilingual even later, when their literati started to conceptually associate their corresponding religious affiliations with the use of particular languages. Another example is Augustine’s anti-Donatist polemics. Augustine deliberately painted his opponents as a local, African, and only bilingual sect; at the same time, he claimed that the Church of Rome he represented was universal, ecumenical, and speaking all languages! This was largely a misrepresentation of the fact that, despite its proclaimed multilingualism, it was Augustine’s Church that remained predominantly (though not absolutely) monolingual, while many Donatist communities in Africa were truly bilingual and included Punic-speaking members and clergy.

In other words, my research explores language ideologies and how Greek, Latin, and Syriac intellectuals articulated their views about the alloglottic Other. Their writings show how they forged their distinctly Christian and specific confessional identities through reflection upon language difference. In early Christian apologists one encounters universalist views which gradually transformed in the post-Constantinian era in the continual dialogue between the “Christian universalists” and “cultural isolationists,” particularly within the Greek milieu. At the same time, representatives of different literary traditions — especially Latin writers — attempted to promote the status of their own tongues as legitimate and authoritative vehicles for Christian self-expression. The metalinguistic remarks in Syriac literature reveal not only an acute linguistic awareness, but also the ability of Syriac writers to resist the major cultural biases that sidelined non-Greek speakers.

The book closes with a study of observations about languages found in hagiographical narratives. I examine descriptions of mundane and miraculous linguistic skills of holy men as well as demons and demoniacs speaking in foreign tongues. References to knowing or speaking foreign languages in the hagiographical tradition were closely connected to expressions of holiness in late antique Christianity. The use of language is a performative act that is intimately related to issues of social differentiation, power, and control in multilingual society. The appearance of Christian hagiographical narratives that depict miraculous linguistic events and abilities of holy men and demons reveals that ascribing multilingual competence or the use of specific languages increasingly conveyed symbolic power and authority.

How does this all square with scholarly discussions about the notions of ethnic, religious, and linguistic identity in late antique Christianity? Confessional and linguistic identities often overlapped, producing a variety of dynamic combinations, hybrid loyalties, and local peculiarities. In the period of Trinitarian and Christological controversies, links between languages and religious affiliations were not fixed or absolute, but the intentional suggestion of such associations held rhetorical power. In the rhetorical “tool-kit” of heresiologists from various factions were suggestive links between certain languages, ethnic groups, and religious movements: Punic and Donatists, Goths or Vandals and Arians, Syriac and followers of non-Chalcedonian theologies. Writers mentioned language differences, accents, and dialects when these remarks served the polemical purposes of their narratives. Orthodox Greek and Latin intellectuals represented by far the most prestigious cultural and literary traditions in the Mediterranean. Their statements on peculiarities in the speech of their doctrinal opponents served to create distance between their opponents and their intended audiences, namely the faithful within their flocks. I hope this book provides a much-needed conceptual framework to facilitate future research efforts to improve our understanding of both – actual socio-linguistic practices in the late antique Mediterranean and elite perceptions of the relationship between language and religious identity. In the words of Robin Whelan, “Being Christian [in Vandal Africa] was not a problem unless it was made into one.” In the very same vein, I would say that being a foreign language speaker in late antique Christianity was not a problem, unless one wanted to reinforce points of theological polemic through highlighting linguistic differences.

Last but not least, I strongly believe that the first book, like the first kiss, should be an act of genuine love. Some books are born from purely academic interests, some – like this one – bear unmistaken signs of their author’s identity, their very personal histories, cares, anxieties, and pains. This book-writing journey has ultimately been a transformative and therapeutic experience for me. I grew up as a bilingua in an uneasily bilingual country, never really being sure which one of the two was my native language, and, more importantly, being insecure about what it would mean to call either of them “native” in any given situation and whether or not I would accidentally activate someone else’s unspoken triggers by making this binary choice. And yet, the peculiar blend of idiosyncratic features typical of my most natural speaking is not normative (in a strict sense) in either of the languages in question. After over ten years in academia in the US, my thick accent in English remains. I have given up hopes that this will ever be alleviated. Instead, I have learned to turn my traumas into a resource, and my pains into my superpower. In her book Faithful Renderings: Jewish-Christian Difference and the Politics of Translation, Naomi Seidman mentions that “speaking Yiddish has been described as inhabiting a portable Yiddishland.” In the same way, speaking with any accent could be counted as inhabiting one’s portable homeland. The book has taught me to take pride in my ineradicable accent and my manner of speech as eloquent and truthful testifiers of who I am, where I came from, and what I have been through. It has empowered me to request respect from others and to cut off the occasional instances of language-related micro-aggression and toxic reactions. “Skies of parchment” and “seas of ink” are not enough to express my gratitude to all who have accompanied me on this road.

Yuliya Minets studies intellectual and social processes in Late Antiquity with special attention to the history of early Christianity, the relationship between its different local and confessional varieties, and their connections with traditional Greco-Roman culture and Rabbinic Judaism. She is currently an Assistant Professor in the Department of History and Foreign Languages at Jacksonville State University.