My Lords, when I was a young solicitor in north Wales, I recall a knock on the door at about 6 o’clock in the evening. There was an agitated man of Polish extraction on the doorstep saying, “Please come quickly. My friend is dying in hospital and he wants to make a will.” I went to the hospital, which was just around the corner, and discovered that the patient spoke only Polish. I said to the first man, “What are we going to do?” He said, “We don’t need an interpreter. I’ll do it. He wants to leave everything to me.”
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I eventually found a Polish hospital porter who could confirm that the dying man did indeed wish to leave his estate to my new client—I hope he was not in collusion with him—and the porter and I witnessed the signing of the will, with the testator dying two hours later. I learned the importance then of having an interpreter.
In Wales, of course, we had people involved in court proceedings who required Welsh interpreters as a matter of principle. I only ever once came across a monolingual Welsh speaker. In one case in Caernarfon—arson of a country cottage—the defendant insisted on an interpreter for every word of the proceedings, although he could speak English perfectly well, so everything was translated into Welsh. Then there came a moment, two weeks into the trial, when he asked the judge, the formidable Mr Justice Mars-Jones, in English, “Can I use the toilet, your Lordship?”, to which the judge wearily turned to the interpreter and said, “Translate into Welsh”, which was done.
The NRPSI is an organisation concerned with the need for public protection. When an interpreter is working in a public service setting, possibly in a potentially life-changing interview situation, they are the only person who understands what both the parties are saying, so it is a crucial role. Of course, there is potential for abuse. The organisation was set up after a report in 1994, with help from the Home Office and the Nuffield Foundation. It is still a voluntary organisation with nearly 2,000 registrants offering more than 100 languages. Of course, it provides a selection of highly experienced professionals.
However, interpreters who are not registered may still be employed. What is really needed is statutory regulation of the public service interpreting profession. In the past, things were different. I remember a man turning up at a Denbighshire quarter sessions claiming to be a Russian interpreter. When it turned out that his knowledge of Russian amounted to no more than putting “ski” on the back of every English word, he was locked up for contempt of court. I trust that has never happened to the right reverend Prelate with his interpretations.
In Hong Kong, where I had considerable experience, the court interpreters were highly expert. They had to deal with a variety of languages from Putonghua, Cantonese to Mandarin, and a variety of regional languages in a court in which, prior to 1997, the proceedings were conducted in English, although English was spoken by only 4% of the population of Hong Kong. I recall on one occasion one of them took me aside and told me that my English grammar was wrong—the trouble was, he was right.
I wish that that quality of interpretation existed in the courts of this country, so the noble Baroness will not be surprised to know that I wholeheartedly support this attempt to professionalise and recognise minimum standards for court interpreters.