Authors and languages in a sociohistorical context: Basque religious literature in seventeenth-century France

3.2.1 Language policy

It might be an anachronism to talk about conscious language policy with reference to earlier periods (Burke 2004: 72–73, 75), but governments often tried to impose or outlaw the use of a language. In France, an example of that was the Ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts (1539), which banned Latin in the domain of law and administration. Even though it did not explicitly prohibit the use of local languages (Trudeau 1983), it precipitated the expansion of French in administration.

As regards the religious domain, language is the vehicle for the spread of faith, and because of that, religion plays an important role in the history of languages (Hartweg and Kremnitz 2013: 159). In France, both Catholics and Protestants had to deal with a multilingual population, which led to something we could call language policy.

In general, religious production was important in France in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but there were differences between languages in that religious literature existed in Occitan, Breton and Basque, but not in langues d’oïl and Franco-provençal. For Basque and Breton, most of the printed production was religious (Courouau 2012: 159).

The first Breton catechism had already been published in 1567, and a translation of Bellarmine’s catechism appeared in 1612 (Courouau 2008: 60). In fact, in the second half of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth centuries, more religious books were published in Breton than in Basque and Occitan (Courouau 2008: 57). This also suggests some access to literacy in the Breton society, as pointed out by Hartweg and Kremnitz (2013: 162). However, publishing was mostly done without explicit institutional support (Courouau 2008: 64, 2012: 161).

As regards Occitan, some religious books appeared in the first half of the sixteenth century. A period of stagnation followed though, and the first catechism in the seventeenth century was published in 1640 (Courouau 2012: 172–179). Several other religious texts were printed in the 1640s and 1650s (mostly in Toulouse) thanks to the efforts of a part of the clergy. This support was however limited in space (south-western France) and time (in most cases the next bishop would not continue the efforts of his predecessor) (Courouau 2012: 260). According to Martel (2013: 514), the Occitan Church never really committed to the cause of language, even though there were a few influential religious authors who wrote in Occitan.

In this section, we will argue that institutional support was crucial for the appearance of Materra’s catechism. In general, it appears that it was difficult, if not impossible, to publish books in Basque without it. This support was also relatively early. As Courouau (2012: 201) notes, at the time of Materra’s publication (1617), there was nothing comparable, for example, in the Occitan book market.

In Materra’s book there is no explicit information that it was ordered, but it is nevertheless clear that it was created along the lines of the Counter-Reformation and with the help of the Church, and especially with the support of Bertrand Etxauz (1556–1641), the bishop of Bayonne between 1599 and 1617.

Bishops played an important role in the Counter-Reformation (Bergin 1999; Suire 2000). As a result of the decisions of the Council, on the one hand, they were expected to lead an exemplary life as well as preach and visit their parishes regularly, but on the other, they also gained power.

Etxauz was a native Basque speaker from a noble family, born in Baigorri, in Low Navarre. As the chaplain of King Henry IV of France and knight of the Order of the Holy Spirit, he was an influential figure. One of the most important events he presided over as bishop of Bayonne was the “visit” of Pierre de Lancre in 1609, who was responsible for a massive witch hunt and subsequent death of many of those accused of witchcraft.^[6] Another landmark in Etxauz’s mandate was the foundation in 1611 of a Franciscan monastery between Saint-Jean-de-Luz and Ciboure.

His role in the development of Basque religious literature was important, as dedications in Basque books witness. The 1617 edition of Materra’s catechism – the first book of the Counter-Reformation in Labourd, and the only one published when Etxauz was still bishop of Bayonne – is dedicated precisely to him. Materra says that Etxauz brought him to Labourd, and considers him the “foundation and source” of the book:

Eta arraçoiñaren eta çucenaren arauaz-ere ene euscarac bere lehenbicico agurra eta eçagutça çuri eguin behar cerautçun, ceren nic hitzcuntça hunetan daquidan guztia çuri çor bai-terautçut: çure errana gatic, çuc esporçaturic, bihotz emanic, eta are egoiteco lekhua-ere çuc cerorrec Saraco herria seiñalaturic, daquidana han ikhassi bai-tut. (Materra 1617: 8)

[It is right that my Basque language be grateful to you, for I owe to you all I know in this language: because of your words, your effort and your encouragement, and also because you have indicated Sara to me as the place to stay, and all I know I learnt there.]

Eta hala, baldin ene enseiu hunec ohoreric edo laudorioric batere mereci ba-du, çuri dagotçu guehiena eta principalena, ceren çu içan bait-çara hunen cimendua eta ithur-burua. (Materra 1617: 9)

[And thus, if my effort deserves any esteem or praise, most of it corresponds to you, because you have been its foundation and source.]

Etxauz is honoured also in one of the books by Etxeberri (Eliçara erabiltceco liburua, 1665 [1636]) and in Axular’s Gvero (1643). According to Axular, all authors writing in Basque were indebted to Etxauz: “Cer ere esquiribatuco baita euscaraz, hura guztia euscaldunen buruçagui beçala, çuri dagotçula, çuri çor çaitçula” (1643: 9–10) [We owe you, as the leader of all Basque people, whatever will be written in Basque]. As Salaberri Muñoa (2002, 2016) demonstrates on the basis of paratexts, the image of Etxauz, similar to that of Axular, was mythologised, and he is often presented as the good shepherd of all Basques and ardent advocate of the Basque language.

However, dedications tended to idealise the addressee and made use of rhetorical conventions. The priority of Etxauz was to strengthen the Catholic Church, and Materra might be seen as just another element of this plan. In fact, Etxauz managed to gather a group of clerics – some of them involved in religious writing – who were committed to the cause of Catholic Reform (as explained in Section 2.2). It is possible that Etxauz himself was behind the idea of publishing the first Labourdin catechism. However, we cannot know whether Etxauz wanted to defend the Basque language or whether he resorted to Basque out of necessity, as bishops did in other parts of France where languages other than French were used. As Courouau explains:

Face à la dévalorisation symbolique dont sont victimes les langues de France, l’Eglise catholique, majoritaire dans le pays, et les hommes qui la servent offrent-ils un rempart? L’Etat ignore ces langues, mais, confrontée sur le terrain aux nécessités d’une évangélisation promue par le Concile de Trente, l’institution catholique ne peut, elle, agir comme si toute la population comprenait le latin ou le français. Elle doit composer avec une réalité linguistique que ne facilite pas la diffusion du message religieux et, pour autant qu’elle le désire, rechercher des solutions. (Courouau 2012: 159)

In order to produce well-behaved Christians, the Church needed an effective communication channel, and Labourd was predominantly a Basque-speaking territory at the time (except for some coastal Gascon towns). Even though mass was administered in Latin, preaching had to be done in Basque too. Printed texts in the vernacular language were the next step, and the role of bishops was crucial:

Dans ce contexte [largely Basque monolingual society], l’attitude adoptée par l’Evêché en matière linguistique prenait une grande importance, car c’est sur lui que reposait principalement la formation des esprits, et la surveillance de l’enseignement élémentaire dans les paroisses, lui même étroitement associé à la catéchèse. De fait, l’apparition d’une tradition écrite en langue basque était largement dépendante des choix linguistiques de l’évêché dans l’organisation de sa pastorale et l’élaboration de la littérature correspondante. (Oyharçabal 2001a: 226)

After Etxauz, later bishops pursued his efforts. For example, the 1623 edition of Materra’s doctrine contains a dedication – this time in French, and not in Basque – to Claude de Rueil (bishop of Bayonne from 1621 to 1628), who continued to support Basque-language printing.

Thus, the flourishing of Labourdin literature can be linked to the language politics of the Church. To end this section, we would contend that its subsequent decline might be explained through the diminishing Church support. The peak period of publishing in Labourd was traditionally linked to a prosperous economy, and its decay to an economic downturn (Lafitte 1941; Michelena 1960; Sarasola 1976; Villasante 1961). The Treaty of Utrecht (1713–1715) was detrimental to fishing activities in Labourd, which in turn brought a decline in both the province’s economy and culture. Oyharçabal (2001a), however, argues that this explanation cannot be maintained. The economic crisis began to have an impact after 1740, but the decline in literary production happened earlier, at the close of the seventeenth century. Nevertheless, Oyharçabal does not propose any alternative explanations.

We think that the key to understanding the reason for the decline in literary production is the change of attitude among the Church authorities towards Basque. Jean d’Olce (bishop of Bayonne between 1643 and 1681) was the last seventeenth-century senior Church figure to support Basque-language literature. He ordered a book entitled Pregarioac in 1651 and the doctrine by Silvain Pouvreau was dedicated to him. After that, two other books were published before the eighteenth century (Arambillaga’s Jesu Christoren imitacionea in 1684, and Gazteluzar’s Eguia catholicac in 1686). Both were printed with the bishop’s (Gaspar de Priale) permission, but only Aranbillaga’s book is dedicated to him. One example of this change in the authorities’ attitude are the works of Joannes Etxeberri of Sare (1668–1749), including a textbook to learn Latin through Basque and a Basque-French-Spanish-Latin dictionary. They remained unpublished (and the dictionary perished), because the author did not manage to obtain help from the institutions (Bilbao 2006: 29–30).

Books continued to be printed in Basque in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but they were mostly new editions of older publications. Materra’s doctrine is a case in point in that it was printed again in 1648, 1693 and 1704. There were various modifications in the text, but in most cases, the proportion of Latin to Basque grew (the 1617 edition was fully in Basque).

In conclusion, one could argue that the support of the Church and especially its bishops was crucial for Basque texts to be published. The usage of the local language was a consequence of the Church’s strategy at that time.

3.2.2 Readers

Chartier (1987) claims that, between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, despite low levels of literacy, written texts played a fundamental role in spreading cultural models. From the perspective of sociolinguistics, it is thus interesting to focus not only on the goals and genesis of Materra’s book, but also on its readers.

The 1617 edition was written with schoolchildren in mind, which is unusual in Basque literature. Children are mentioned in one of the permissions, namely in that of Axular, who remarks that the book is worth being used by everyone, and by schoolchildren in particular. What was, then, the function of Materra’s book? In the introduction, we find the following explanation: “Eta et-çait iduri asco dela cadiratic predicatuz probetchu eguitea eta eracustea, baiña are uste dut esquiribuz-ere behar dela enseiatu eta trabaillatu” (Materra 1617: 13) [I do not think it is enough to preach from the altar, and I believe that we should also work through writing].

This idea is also found in the dedication to Etxauz, where Materra emphasises the importance of young Christians’ education, and says that there were many clerics in the diocese teaching the doctrine, and that it could be helpful for them and their disciples to have a written catechism.

The sources that were used to prepare the doctrine are consistent with the type of public the book wanted to reach. Materra’s book, though not exactly a translation, is not fully original either. It is an adaptation of the catechism for children by the Jesuit Robert Bellarmine (Zuloaga et al. 2020). The source is not explicitly stated anywhere in the text, but numerous similarities with Dottrina Christiana breve (Bellarmine 1597), such as the order of topics and fragments which appear to be translations, indicate that Materra used Bellarmine’s book as a base, which he then modified (e.g. adding a few parts inspired by Dichiarazione piu copiosa della dottrina christiana, a doctrine addressed to priests and more advanced users, also by Bellarmine (1598)). Bellarmine’s doctrine was approved by Pope Clement VIII, and it quickly gained popularity in France (Dhotel 1967: 107). Francis de Sales, who praised Bellarmine’s works and contributed to their esteem in France, translated Dottrina Christiana breve into French in 1601 (Courouau 2008: 60). Thus, Materra adapted a book aimed at children and popular in France at that time, which is just another element that places him within French culture.

The mention of schoolchildren raises the question of schooling and literacy. In the second half of the seventeenth century, there were petites écoles in the northern parts of the Basque Country (Oyharçabal 1999). Though run (and often paid for) by local communities, they were closely controlled by the Catholic Church. Their primary goal was to propagate the Catholic faith, mainly through memorisation of the catechism. Other matters, such as reading and writing, were subordinate to that objective:

The need that the petites écoles fulfilled was primarily religious and social. In the eighteenth century few parents believed that being able to write would bring great advantages to their children; thus, parents did not pay school fees with learning this skill in mind. (…) Instruction in religion was something that everyone needed, however, and for this reason parents were willing to send their children to petites écoles and pay their fees. In school children learned to read but primarily for religious purposes. (Carter 2011: 13)

For Protestants, schooling and literacy enabled people to read the Bible. Catholics acted differently, i.e. the first efforts in response to the Reformation were directed at the clergy and sought to improve their preparation (it is revealing that the first Catholic catechisms were written for priests). The crucial moment, as Chartier et al. (1976) argue, came when the Church shifted the focus towards lay people and their education, which is reflected in the proliferation of catechisms aimed at different levels of education, especially for the elementary levels.

As regards Basque doctrines, Oyharçabal (1999) shows that the earliest reference to Basque-language schools comes from the doctrine by Athanase Belapeire printed in 1696, which was intended to be used in the province of Soule. The discovery of the 1617 edition of Materra’s doctrine provides evidence that elementary schooling in Basque existed in Labourd some 80 years earlier. We do not know how common such schools were, but it nevertheless seems that they had to be fairly important if a book was written with them in mind. The catechism contains almost no information of how teaching was to be conducted. Indeed, the only interesting fragment comes from one of the permissions, where the reader is advised to read the book and learn it by heart. Memorisation, as already mentioned, was fundamental in education at that time.

In the 1623 edition, all references to children were eliminated, and the catechism is presented as a book for a general Basque monolingual (but literate) public instead. In a part absent in the 1617 edition, a particular group of readers is adduced to – sailors. This is not that surprising if one considers that an important part of the society of Labourd worked in trades related to the sea. Materra claims, with little modesty, that no literate seamen will fail to buy his book. It seems that there was a need for a more “advanced” book in society, and this might be the reason for the changes made in the second edition. The first edition is fine for young readers, but the second is significantly more difficult (it includes rather complex prayers and a few parts are in Latin). Materra was not the only seventeenth-century Basque author to take sailors into account (Arcocha-Scarcia 1999, 2002), which reflects the importance of this group in the Labourdin society. Joannes Etxeberri, for example, included prayers for sailors in his Manual devotionezcoa. A Basque translation of a technical treaty for maritime pilots, one of very few non-religious Basque books of the period, was also published by Etxeberri Dorre in 1677.

3.2.3 The model and image of the language

Materra’s book laid the foundations of Classical Labourdin, even though, almost certainly, it was not an objective that Materra himself pursued consciously. Apart from spreading the Christian doctrine, one of Materra’s goals was to provide a model of how the Basque language should be written. At that time, there was no standard language norm, neither for the whole Basque language nor for the Labourdin dialect, for no one followed the linguistic model proposed by Leizarraga. Because of that, the language choice each author made and reasons for it were typically noted in the prefaces of books.

Materra, who was aware of dialectal diversity, opted for the language used in Sare. The reason might have been necessity (Salaberri Muñoa 2002: 79), since it was the only variety he knew, as he himself said in the preface of the catechism:

Gaiñeracoan, ba-daquit Euscal-Herrian anhitz moldez minçatcen direla, eta nori bere herrico euscara çaicala hoberenic eta ederrenic. Handic gogoac emaiten deraut, ene esquiribatceco molde haur etçaiela guztiei ongui idurituco. Baiña nahi dut iaquin deçaten halacoec nic hitzcunça hunetan daquidana Saran ikhassia dudala, eta hango euscara ongui erabiltcen ba-dut ez-naicela gaitz erraiteco, eta-ez arbuiatceco, ceren ez-pai-taquit nic hangoa baicen. Ordea ea Saraco euscara denz Euscal-Herrico hoberena eta garbiena, ez-naiz ni hartara sartcen, bat-bederac emanen du bere iduriric. Eta Saraco euscara hunetçaz content ez-tenac esquiriba beça bertce euscara hobeago batez eta hobequiago; ez-naiz ni hargatic bekhaiztuco, eta ez imbidios içanen. (Materra 1617: 14–15)

[I also know that people talk in different ways in the Basque Country, and everyone thinks that the Basque of their village is the best and the most beautiful. Because of that I suppose that not everyone will like my way of writing. But I would like them to know that it is in Sare where I have learnt all I know in this language, and if I use it well, I am not to be disapproved of or loathed, since I do not know anything else. Now, whether the Basque of Sare is the finest and purest, I will not deal with this matter, and everyone can have their opinion. And if someone is not pleased with this Basque of Sare, he is free to write in a better Basque and in a better way; I will not be angry or jealous because of that.]

Materra was the first Basque writer to explain that he picked the language variety of a certain place. Many authors followed Materra in this decision, and quite a few in the choice of the variety of Sare.^[7] These decisions, together with the fact that Axular, the most praised Basque author, was a parish priest in Sare, contributed to the idea that Sare was one of the most important centres of the Basque language. As put by Fishman (2006: 17), “As a result of the partial use of varieties of vernaculars for sanctified purposes, these varieties often come to be viewed as co-sanctified themselves”.

Nevertheless, Materra’s prefaces are highly conventional. Similar concerns related to the lack of standard language and the necessity to choose a language model can be found in prefaces by other Labourdin authors too, for example Etxeberri and Axular (and, more generally, in books printed in Europe at that time).

The language of Materra’s book is hardly a transcription of the Basque spoken in Sare. The language model employed does not look like it was invented on the spot, for the purpose of this book. There are almost no traces of orality or features typical of writings by more inexperienced writers (which are common, for instance, in eighteenth-century private Labourdin letters; see Lamikiz et al. 2015). On the contrary, its spelling and word division is very consistent. There are no contractions or other reflections of pronunciation. Apart from that, the language used is rich, and even though the text is based on a catechism by Bellarmine, it does not have calques or odd constructions typical of many Basque translations or adaptations.

It seems that the language model (including spelling) that would come to be termed Classical Labourdin had already been established by the time the book was published. We might hypothesise that this model originated in the language used for teaching in Church, e.g. in sermons, and was later employed and further developed in writing (similar processes took place in other dialects). We thus find a standardised variety “especially reserved for religious activities and used for very little else, except perhaps as school subjects or literary and scholarly languages” (Fasold 1987: 77–78).

According to Salaberri Muñoa (2002: 79), even though it makes little sense to talk about seventeenth-century Labourdin writers as a “school” or “literary group”, each author took previous ones as their departure point, and as a result, there was a certain homogeneity in the language and style. In the case of Materra, he did not have printed models, but he could have used the language that the religious community around Sare used (in speaking or in writing) as inspiration.

Materra explained in the preface that his goal was not only to spread faith but also to show how to write and read in Basque: “(…) ikhus dadin laburzqui cer-ere sinhetsi, obratu eta escatu behar bai-ta, eta guero ikhus dadin, halaber, nola eta cer moldez behar den euscara esquiribatu eta iracurtu” (Materra 1617: 13–14) [(…) so that it is clear what to believe, what to do and what to ask for, and also how and in what manner Basque should be written and read].

It appears that Materra did influence the successive Labourdin authors. The next Basque book published after Materra was Manual devotionezcoa by Etxeberri (Bordeaux, 1627); thus, for 10 years Materra’s two catechisms were the only Basque texts available for monolingual readers. The impact that Materra’s doctrine had can be measured in two ways: on the one hand, by the number of editions it had, and, on the other, by the number of subsequent authors that used his text. Passages more or less literally copied can be found in Haranburu (1635, Salaberri Muñoa 2013), Argaiñaratz (1665) and also in the Souletin doctrine by Belapeire (1696, Agirre 1998). Less obvious influence can also be found in Axular. Salaberri Muñoa (2001) points out numerous similarities in the introductions of Axular’s Gvero and Materra’s catechism.

As regards the image of language, we have little information about the status and perception of Basque in early seventeenth-century. In Materra’s book, the choice of Basque is not explained (maybe such decisions did not require any justification at that time?).

We find indications of conscious language choice in the works of several authors. The best example is Etxeberri, who explained that he wrote his Manual devotionezcoa (1627) in Basque because it was his mother tongue, but he also affirmed that the king of France should protect linguistic diversity. In the dedication to the bishop of Bayonne (C. de Rueil), he mentioned potential critics of the book, and Oyharçabal (2001b) argues that it is a reference to a language conflict. In the 1630s, Haranburu in his Devocino escuarra (1635) affirmed that some people would criticise his language choice. According to Oyharçabal (2001b: 211), “Dans cette interprétation, nous trouvons un nouvel écho, huit ans après la publication du Manuel, de l’existence d’un courant de pensée hostile sinon à la langue basque, du moins à sa libre utilisation dans les textes de doctrine religieuse”. In a similar way to other regions in France (see Courouau 2012: 178–183), some priests did not consider it appropriate to employ Basque in religious matters, and preferred French.

We can draw several general conclusions about the place of Basque and its image among seventeenth-century Labourdin writers and clergymen. Taking into account the sociocultural context and the nature of books printed, it is clear that the main objective which the authors had was not to promote Basque, but rather to spread ideas related to religion. However, the choice of means to achieve that led to the elaboration of the language and to an increase of its prestige. The paratexts mentioned above clearly show that the authors consciously chose Basque – with the support of religious authorities – as the vehicle to disseminate religious ideas. Basque was necessary for that task because a large proportion of the population was monolingual Basque speaking. Some writers had a higher level of linguistic consciousness, and, aside from practical reasons, they also give sociolinguistic explanations to motivate their choice of language. Labourdin writers, then, exhibited a linguistic consciousness not found very often in seventeenth-century France: “(…) le degré de conscience linguistique et sociolinguistique des écrivains religieux basques, pour ce qu’on en connaît à travers ce qu’ils nous donnent à lire, paraît largement supérieur à celui dont font preuve les auteurs d’expression occitane – et a fortiori bretonne – dans les parties correspondantes de leurs œuvres (dédicaces, prologues)” (Courouau 2012: 201–202).