Translation has always been a demanding part of the European Commission's work. Life is about to get even harder, writes RuadhánMac Cormaic.

When, on May 1st, the European Union admits 10 new members, it will simultaneously absorb at least nine new languages and activate the most elaborate lingual-harmonisation project ever attempted. It will be the culmination of eight years' work by the EU's language services, which since 1996 have been working towards the moment when representatives of 25 member states will gather round a conference table and, all going to plan, issue a multilingual melody on the dawn of a new era.

When the groundwork got under way, in the mid-1990s, eastward enlargement was still a distant blip on the political radar, but as the formal accession date has neared the pitch of preparation has risen steadily. The European Commission's Directorate-General for Translation, which deals only with documents, employs about 2,000 permanent linguists and support staff (of a commission total of 34,000). Their duty is to translate a million pages a year. With enlargement, an additional 3,000 linguists, mostly from Eastern Europe, will join to handle the greater workload. A recruitment drive has been in motion for years.

Already, to bring national laws into line with the EU's official journal, 80,000 pages of regulations have had to be rigorously translated into the nine new languages. (The union's 11 current official languages are Danish, Dutch, English, Finnish, French, German, Greek, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish and Swedish.)

The Directorate-General for Interpretation, which deals with the spoken word, is more complicated. With 11,000 meetings to cover each year, as well as innumerable briefings and press conferences, it has to work with 110 language combinations. By June, when the number of official languages rises from 11 to 20, there will be 380 combinations. In the European Parliament, many of whose 626 members speak only one language, interpreters outnumber politicians.

Sceptics differ only on whether the doubling of this complex workload will lead to an unmanageable cacophony or merely unbearable delays. The European Commission, however, foresees few problems.

According to Eric Mamer, who represents the commissioner responsible for language services, Neil Kinnock, the transition will be seamless. "Contrary to what people think, this is not a revolution. Do people really think that working with 11 languages is easy? No, it's bloody complicated. And for this reason the EU institutions have developed lots of innovative ways of working, based on intelligent use of information technology and relay languages, for instance. Obviously, this is a bigger enlargement than any previous one, but we can meet the challenge."

For decades there have been too many languages to interpret directly between each combination. Since 1958 all EU institutions have used the "relay" system, in which one language is translated into another through the intermediary "pivot" of French, English or German.

The workload has been reduced, too, by a computer-based translation system that can process 2,000 pages an hour, although it is not infallible; a missing hyphen meant it memorably translated "vice-president" into Spanish as the "president of vice". Even with the additional languages the overall cost of these services across all EU bodies will remain below 1 per cent of the total budget - less than 2 a citizen a year.

Although common defence, taxation and the euro are commonly seen as Europe's fault lines, they are superficial when compared with questions of language. In 1958 the EU's first regulation stipulated that all official documents be available in all languages. And ever since then officials fond of words such as "rationalise" and "streamline" tend to be scolded.

In 2001 Kinnock suggested restricting the number of translations of working documents in the commission. France and Germany's foreign ministers at once protested to Romano Prodi, the commission president. Press releases reaffirming the commission's commitment to multilingualism were briskly issued as the idea was quietly binned.

The problem was English. Fifteen years ago most of the EU's business was conducted through French; today it has been overtaken by English, a process reinforced by the arrival of the anglophile Swedes and the Finns, in 1995. Until then the commission's daily press briefings were delivered in French alone.

The rise of English is particularly galling to the French elite, for whom language is not only the garment of thought but the lens of a world view. Apart from giving an advantage to native English speakers, the shift has wider intellectual implications, according to many: a dilution of the multilingual principle could undermine not only France's distinct intellectual traditions in law, philosophy and the sciences but also the foundations of the European ideal itself.

Pierre Defraigne, a senior EU official, has dismissed advocates of "monolingualism" (read "Englishism"), a principle, he has said, that "would contradict the diversity that is, along with unity, one of the foundations of the construction of Europe". According to Defraigne, "a language is not only a medium of communication but also, and most importantly, a tool for a certain way of thinking and for a certain cultural sensibility. Today, to speak English is too often to think American - paradoxically, this is most common for many non-anglophones, who often adopt the zeal of the newly converted".

Defraigne believes the European Council - also known as the Council of Ministers - must remain multilingual because of its representative function. The commission, he says, could limit itself to French, English and German.

For successive French governments, concern about threats to their language has shaped policy on a multitude of issues. Attempts to create a common EU patent faltered, in part, because of objections to English as the sole language of patents. France has also resisted the notion of EU control over trade policy relating to "cultural industries", which could undermine the long-standing protection of French-language film and music.

National media tend to underline the chasm in perception that cuts along linguistic lines, with Britain and France standing at either precipice. The French newspaper Libération accused EU officials of wanting to ensure that national languages be "relegated to the status of quaint dialects".

Internally, of course, the EU has never worked in all languages. Day-to-day business is conducted in French, English and, to a lesser extent, German. The fact that the most important EU institutions are in francophone cities - Brussels, Luxembourg and Strasbourg - means French is the lingua franca of the corridors and canteens. Will the latest round of enlargement hasten a shift towards English? "The question of monolingualism doesn't arise," says Mamer. "You can't expect a Polish farmer to become monolingual. In interacting with the outside world, and particularly with the citizens, there is no way that the EU would try, or even wish, to reduce the number of official languages. It's a fundamental right of all citizens to be able to communicate with us in their own language. Without that you'll never have acceptance.

You have to laugh

It's not often that "EU" and "joke" appear in the same sentence, but decades of interpretation have spawned a bank of anecdotes.

During one debate in Strasbourg, an MEP from Normandy devised the perfect compromise at just the right time. A French colleague, using an old French expression, said this was thanks to la sagesse normande, or Normandy wisdom. The English interpretation rendered it as "all thanks to Norman Wisdom".

Certain expressions don't translate, as shown when "shooting the rapids" became "shooting the rabbits" and when "out of sight, out of mind" was rendered by a computer as "invisible lunatic". Similarly, during a meeting of an agricultural working group, "frozen semen" was translated into French as matelot congelé, or frozen seaman.

One interpreter, struggling with the leaden speech of a German minister who had compared the pace of a negotiating session to a hedgehog, translated it as: "This meeting is slow, ponderous and full of pricks."

Confusion can arise even without translation, thanks to the ever-widening vocabulary of Eurospeak jargon. Legal documents are notorious offenders. A spade is not a spade but a single-bladed mono-handled digging instrument; the "interoperability of intermodal transport systems" refers, logically, to synchronised bus and train timetables.

And, for the benefit of teenagers embellishing a skimpy CV, the position of supermarket shelf stacker is classified as "ambient replenishment assistant".

And what about Irish?

Every member state except the Republic has had its official languages recognised as official languages of the European Union. Instead Irish is, uniquely, a "treaty language", which means only final written texts are translated into it.

To coincide with the incorporation on May 1st of nine new official languages - as well as with Ireland's presidency of the EU - a campaign has been under way to have Irish recognised as an official working language.

According to Stádas, an umbrella group of campaign supporters, the case for official status is compelling and the costs minimal. It points out that at present the EU is not obliged to translate European laws into Irish even though they supersede Irish legislation. Official status for Irish would remedy this.

It also points out that when job opportunities arise within the EU a basic requirement is competence in two official languages. Irish citizens are at a disadvantage, as Irish is not recognised until a candidate is seeking internal promotion.

Campaigners also object to the fact that, at present, MEPs cannot use Irish whenever they choose.

Making Irish an official EU language would enhance its status, benefiting its speakers and learners, according to Stádas, which points to the way languages develop when they interact with others through translation.

The campaign has received support from a wide spectrum of Irish life. It is endorsed by all opposition parties and all independent TDs in the Dáil, and in January a motion was passed unanimously by the Seanad, with the vocal support of the Cathaoirleach, Mary O'Rourke.

In response the Government has established a working group to examine its options. The Taoiseach, Bertie Ahern, has said he favours "an improved status" for Irish but points to practical difficulties. The Minister for Community, Rural and Gaeltacht Affairs, Éamon Ó Cuív, says the Government is "examining a range of options with a view to identifying the best practical way to enhance the status of the Irish language. Each option will be examined to establish the feasibility of its implementation by the European Union".