The state of the Gagauz language in the Republic of Moldova
The issue of using the Gagauz language in daily life for Gagauz people did not begin in modern times, nor even 30 years ago, when Gagauzia was granted autonomy, but much earlier—during the Soviet regime and the period of widespread Russification. A well-known historical fact is that the teaching of the Gagauz language in local schools was stopped in 1962, so my parents' generation did not study their native language in school.
The same deprivation was suffered by children born in the '70s and '80s. I remember very well that there was a clear rule in primary school: Gagauz language—only at home. I recall how the teacher constantly corrected my classmates who spoke in Gagauz during breaks, forcing them to switch to Russian. There were also several parent meetings in primary school, where it was recommended that they speak to us in Russian at home, read us Russian classical literature, and develop our vocabulary in that language. However, this process cannot be viewed negatively, as thanks to the Russian language, many Gagauz became doctors, teachers, engineers, scientists, writers, and other remarkable specialists. An essential aspect is that the collective consciousness was rooted in the belief that the Gagauz language was just "a language for household use."
For my generation, the Gagauz language returned to the school curriculum in 1993; at least that is when the subject "Gagauz language and literature" first appeared in my schedule. However, until that moment, most of my classmates (including me) were no longer able to speak Gagauz fluently, not even at a basic level. Thus, the language gradually shifted from the category of "language for household use" to "the language of grandparents." Still, this problem was less acute in Gagauz villages, where young people grew up in a natural linguistic environment. But when these young people reached high schools in the cities, it was clear that they were embarrassed to speak in Gagauz with their urban peers.
This phenomenon continued from the post-Soviet period until the late '90s. I clearly remember that, both when I was a student and later when I briefly taught students, many young people aged 17-19 avoided acknowledging that they were Gagauz. Imagine, they were ashamed to say, "I am Gagauz." And this happened precisely during the period when the struggle for Gagauz self-identification and national consciousness was intensifying, and the Gagauz Republic and later Gagauz Autonomy were on the horizon.
Another paradox in Gagauz society is that, with the establishment of Gagauzia, many parents opposed the introduction of education in the Gagauz language. The idea of teaching general subjects in Gagauz faced such strong resistance that, even after 30 years, no progress has been made beyond introducing the Gagauz language in kindergartens and teaching a few simple subjects (such as drawing and technical education) in this language. Additionally, a special course—"History, Culture, and Traditions of the Gagauz People"—was introduced. It is no secret that middle and high schools in Gagauzia lose students every year who do not want to take the Gagauz language exam and either transfer to districts where this subject is not mandatory or completely drop out of the education system.
In Gagauzia, there is a law on "Expanding the Use of the Gagauz Language," developed and adopted in 2018 by People's Assembly deputies Ekaterina Jekova, Elena Karamit, and Mihail Jelezoglo. However, another paradox is that the adoption of this law was initially met with resistance from the executive authorities, led by former Governor Irina Vlah. Nevertheless, the law was adopted with the aim of ensuring the functioning and expansion of the Gagauz language in the context of the decreasing number of speakers, the marginalization of Gagauz culture, and the influence of other languages and cultures. One of the authors of the law, Ekaterina Jekova, explained that "there are many reasons why the Gagauz language has reached this situation, but the most important is that, over the years, no authority has created the necessary conditions for the Gagauz language to become the foundation and main value of Gagauzia. This is why the Gagauz language is the most vulnerable of the three languages used in the autonomy."
Over the years, I have written numerous articles about the Gagauz language issue, and unfortunately, I cannot say that they have had a significant impact or that they have changed anything. It cannot be said that efforts are not being made in Gagauzia to revitalize the language, but the reality is that the number of Gagauz speakers continues to decline, as confirmed by the latest statistics.
How do I see the solution? I believe that the idea of starting the revitalization of the language from the family is no longer sufficient. In recent decades, generations of children in Gagauzia have grown up who cannot speak, write, or think in Gagauz. Thus, in families where there are no grandparents, and the parents do not know the language, children have no chance of learning it. In these conditions, we should focus on preschool and school education, increasing not only the number of Gagauz language lessons but also the number of subjects (at least humanities) taught in this language. This process should continue throughout education, including in colleges and universities.
Additionally, I believe that it should be legally required for all meetings of the Executive Committee and the People's Assembly in Gagauzia to be conducted exclusively in Gagauz. Currently, the authorities are shifting the responsibility of saving the language to children and adolescents, hoping that they will grow up and teach their children the mother tongue. But this is a matter of the future, and we live in the present. If the authorities do not adhere to their own requirements regarding the use and protection of the Gagauz language, how can they expect anything from the citizens? Moreover, if all official meetings were conducted in Gagauz, it would motivate the adult population to learn the language, at least to understand what the deputies and members of the Executive are discussing about their future.
I know that many of my critics will find arguments against this. Some will consider it too harsh, others unrealistic. But I have only one answer: those who want to find solutions, those who don't—find excuses. We have made excuses for too long. The time has come to act.
Nata Cebotari
Gagauz journalist
