The role of grammar in communicative language

teaching:
An historical perspective
Diane Musumeci
University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign
The topic of this teleconference, "The role of grammar in communicative langauge
teaching" suggests an uneasy relationship between two elements: namely, grammar on
the one hand, and communication on the other. In my remarks I hope to dispel some of
the misunderstandings that promote its continuing existence. But, before I address the
role that grammar has played in the history of second language teaching, I'd like to first
explore the nature of grammar: What is it? Linguists define grammar as a set of
components: phonetics (the production and perception of sounds), phonology (how
sounds are combined), morphology (the study of forms, or how elements are combined
to create words), syntax (how words are strung together into sentences), and semantics
or meaning. Because all languages are characterized by these components, by definition,
language does not exist without grammar.
However, grammar has not always been defined in these terms. Originally, the term
grammar, grammatica, referred to the art of writing, as compared to rhetoric, rettorica,
the art of speaking. As used today by many teachers and learners, grammar is loosely
understood to be a set of rules that govern language, primarily its morphology and
syntax. But morphology and syntax are only two components of grammar.
Communicative language teaching has brought a renewed emphasis on the role that
semantics plays in the definition of language. Communicative language teaching is
fundamentally concerned with 'making meaning' in the language, whether by
interpreting someone else's message, expressing one's own, or negotiating when meaning
is unclear. Viewing grammar with all of its components helps us as language teachers
understand the complexity of what it means to know the grammar of a language. Clearly,
the goal of language learning in the communicative classroom is for learners to acquire
the grammar of the second language in its broadest sense, to enable them to understand
and make meaning; that is, to become proficient users of the second language. Research
and experience have shown that explicit teaching of grammatical rules, even if we were
able to formulate them all, does not produce such competence. How, then, should
grammar be taught?
You may have noticed that I said that communicative language teaching has brought a
renewed emphasis to the role of semantics, especially in the early stages of instruction.
The title of my presentation also promises an historical perspective. What I will do now
is demonstrate that the goal of developing learners' functional competence in a second
language, the goal of communicative language teaching, is not a new idea: it has existed
for at least the past five hundred years. And a look at the history of second language
teaching will reveal characteristics of pedagogy that have been known to promote
functional language competence as well as explain why language teachers have not had
access to that pedagogy.
While we are all aware of the status that English currently enjoys as a world language,
an international system of communication, it has held that position for a relatively short

time. At the beginning of this century, linguists lamented the loss of the only world
language that they had known: Latin, and they could not fathom that another language
would ever take its place. You see, the rediscovery of the classics during the Renaissance
resulted in more than an information explosion in academia; and fluency in Latin
represented much more than the ability to edit manuscripts: Latin was a language of
considerable usefulness as the language of culture and wider communication, and
therefore power. In other words, the reasons for learning Latin in the fifteenth century
were not very different from learning English today, in the age of the Global Village.
The importance of acquiring communicative competence in Latin dramatically affected
language teaching. An entirely new curriculum was created: the studia humantatis
(literally, the study of humanity) in which the goal of learning Latin shifted from the
preparation of students who could accurately copy manuscripts or compose in imitation
of classical authors to the study of what those authors had to say, in Latin. Far from
imparting an aesthetic appreciation alone, the revival of learning was understood to be a
practical education. With its emphasis on the study of history, philosophy, and science,
the new curriculum was designed to give students access to information necessary for
personal, moral, and civic development, while simultaneously developing their second
language proficiency in Latin.
Among the most celebrated proponents of the studia humanitatis was Guarino da Verona
(1374-1460), an early humanist of the Italian Renaissance, an educator celebrated
throughout Europe for his scholarship and his outstanding reputation as a language
teacher (Garin, 1958). Guarino argued that if students were going to be able to use Latin
to understand the classical texts, as well as to convey new ideas, Latin must be acquired
as a living, practical language. Therefore, he proposed that the first emphasis in
instruction should be on meaning, rather than on form. Students must acquire "the habit
of speaking continually in Latin" in addition to the ability to read and write. He
understood that interpretive skills develop sooner than expressive skills and that
language learning is a developmental process. He cautioned against harboring
expectations that are not commensurate with the learner's stage of development,
reminding the teacher, "don't expect from a baby's lips the learning appropriate to a
mature adult." Moreover, he indicated that, with experience, competence will eventually
emerge. Because the ideas of the classical authors as conveyed in their writing formed
the content of instruction, authentic text was central even in the earliest stages of the
curriculum. Thus, Guarino gave the following advice on how to approach a written text:
First of all, you must read [...] Don't go word by word, rather pay attention only to the
meaning, and as though you were trying to grab a body not an appendage (letter to
Lionello d'Este)
Guarino recognized that initially the student might encounter difficulty, so he
recommended don't be frightened if at first you don't understand; limit yourself to
knocking on the door and calling again: the door will open and someone will answer
(Garin: 345) Interestingly, even though Guarino wrote a grammar, he rarely mentioned
it. In fact, the study of rules as a prerequisite to language development is conspicuously
absent from his advice. Instead, Guarino's model stresses the acquisition of competence
in a second language as a gradual, developmental process; he views the teacher as a
guide and model of competence that learners will use. According to Guarino, interpretive
skills come first, acquired through immersion in the language, exposure to excellent

models, and interaction with interesting subject matter. Fluency in oral and written
expression develops gradually, as a consequence of exposure to good models and
pleasant interaction in the second language.
In the century following Guarino, the early humanists were thwarted in their attempt to
establish Latin as the international language for all European citizens. With the rise of
national cultures, national languages served to characterize national identities. In
considerable measure still the language of scholarship, Latin was not the language of
home, community, or commerce. Nevertheless, fluency in Latin continued to be held in
high regard, and it carried enormous prestige and power. The genius of Ignatius of
Loyola (1491-1556) lay in the development of a detailed plan for the wide-scale
organization and implementation of the study of humanities, the curriculum that granted
such competence.
Like Guarino, Ignatius believed that functional language ability would be acquired only
through exposure to interesting texts accompanied by meaningful interaction in the
second language. The insistence on the development of learners' ability to actually use
Latin was paramount such that "all be well grounded in grammar and the humanities"
(Letter to Father Urban Fernandes, 1551). As to how this foundation should be acquired,
Ignatius advocated that students acquire interpretive skills through their attendance at the
daily lectures. These lectures were conducted in Latin, with the caveat that "care must be
taken that the lectures are accommodated to the capacity of the students" (Letter to father
John Pelletier, 1551). Understanding Latin, however, was a necessary but insufficient
condition for language acquisition. Ignatius insisted that "all, but especially the students
of humane letters, should ordinarily speak Latin" and that "the students of the classical
language cultivate their ordinary conversation by speaking Latin commonly; and their
style, by writing" . He insisted that interpretive skills could be acquired by
comprehending the lectures, but expressive skills must be cultivated by using the
language to exchange ideas. Ignatius recommended that all students meet in small
groups after the lectures to discuss their content "with one [student] repeating [the
content of the lecture] and the others listening, and with mutual proposing of difficult
points; and that they go to their teachers if there is something that they cannot settle
among themselves" (Constitutions, Part IV). Language ability developed as the message
of the day's lesson was negotiated by the learners in a small group setting. They were
encouraged to solve problems together as best they could, using the teacher as a
resource. Despite the hiatus of a century, a striking similarity exists between the
langauge teaching beliefs shared by Ignatius and Guarino.
In the century following Ignatius, Johann Amos Comenius's vision for educational
reform surpassed that of either of his predecessors. Throughout his long and arduous
career, Comenius (1592-1670) devised curricula for infancy through the university,
proposed a universal system of education and even advocated the invention of a new
language of wider communication to replace Latin, which had been supplanted by the
vernaculars for anything other than law or scholarly pursuits. Comenius was famous in
his time, however, not for his philosophical treatises, but for his wildly popular
textbooks [the Janua linguarum reserata (1631), the Vestibulum (1633), and the Orbis
sensualium pictus (1658)]. He also published a manual in which he described his
teaching method, entitled Didactica Magna , the Great Didactic (1657).

Comenius, too, argued from the outset that language learning follow the "natural order":
namely, that "the matter come first and the form follow" such that
The study of language, especially in youth, should be joined to that of objects, that our
acquaintance with the objective world and with language, that is to say, our knowledge
of facts and our power to express them, may progress side by side. For it is men that we
are forming and not parrots.
He agreed with Guarino and Ignatius that learners begin with an author, and he lamented
the contemporary practice which had students commence with grammar rules,
bemoaning his own language learning experience in which Latin grammar was taught us
with all the exceptions and irregularities; Greek grammar with all its dialects, and we,
poor wretches, were so confused that we scarcely understood what it was all about.
According to Comenius, such instructional practices only ensured that beginners in
grammar are so overwhelmed by precepts, rules, exceptions to the rules, and exceptions
to the exceptions, that for the most part they do not know what they are doing, and are
quite stupefied before they begin to understand anything. Comenius maintained that "all
languages are easier to learn by practice than from rules" .
Despite outright contradictions that crept into his writings regarding the method of
teaching Latin, Comenius acknowledged that if one wished to learn a modern language
The best way is to send them to a place where the language that they wish to learn is
spoken, and in the new language to make them read, write, and learn the class-books of
the Vernacular School
That is, learning the second language through contact with excellent linguistic models
and meaningful interaction with interesting, relevant subject matter, a recommendation
in perfect harmony with both Guarino and Ignatius!
So far, I have presented an historical perspective on second language teaching that is not
well known, but that supports many tenets of communicative language teaching, and
especially resembles what we know of today as content-based instruction. What of the
other perspective, the one that Comenius so soundly condemns? For despite the
similarities in beliefs held by the historical reformers, teaching practice looked in many
cases entirely different: classroom instruction consisted of memorization of rules,
repetition, drill, an early emphasis on linguistic accuracy coupled with a strong measure
of error correction, and the postponement of subject matter teaching until the grammar
had been 'mastered.' One may well question why such practice persisted when it did not
produce functional competence. The answer to that question lies in part in how the
stances of the reformers were conveyed in pedagogical treatises, the language teaching
manuals of their time.
In each instance, those who sought to capture the reformers' ideas, their innovations in
teaching practice, for future generations of language teachers grossly distorted those
ideas. Remember Guarino's insistence that learners begin with understanding the overall
meaning of a text? Here is how that idea was conveyed in a pedagogical treatise written
by his son, Battista, who claimed that he was presenting exactly what his father believed:
In teaching, the fact that verb tenses are formed according to a general rule is of utmost

importance... To such an extent that ... in the blink of an eye they can distinguish a noun
from a verb and the tenses of the verbs. They will soon arrive at the point where they can
respond accurately to frequent interrogations by the teacher. Then, little by little, they
will come in contact with the [ancient] authors, starting with the easiest prose writers
because you don't want to wear them out by the profundity of the content at the expense
of practicing the rules that they have learned. [The rules], first and foremost, are what we
consider the most important thing of all. And what of Ignatius' insistence that students
develop their intrepretive abilities by attending the daily lectures in Latin? The Ratio
studiorium of 1599 gives these directions on how to deliver a lecture:
First he [the teacher] will go through the subject both in Latin and in the vernacular;
secondly he will so interpret each sentence that the vernacular explanation will be given
immediately after the Latin; in the third place going through it again from the beginning
[...], he will select words by twos and threes of which he will explain the force and the
derivation.
What of the little session following the lecture, in which small groups of students discuss
it content and negotiate the meaning among themselves? In the Ratio is is described as
follows:
After the lecture, let him [the teacher] remain in the classroom or near the classroom for
at least a quarter of an hour so that the students may approach him to ask questions, so
that he may sometimes ask an account of the lectures, and so that the lectures may be
repeated.
And finally, Comenius and his unequivocal stance that subject matter teaching and
language leanring proceed hand in hand and that rules are thorns to the understanding?
Here are some of the practical suggestions that he himself offers for classroom practice:
For instance, if the question arose whether it would be more correct to say totus populus
or cunctus populus, and the teacher were merely to say "conctus populus is the right
phrase," but omitted to give any reason, the pupil would soon forget it. If, on the other
hand, he were to say "Cunctus is a contraction for conjunctus, and therefore totus should
be used when the object denoted is homogeneous, cunctus when the conception is
collective, as here," it is scarcely conceivable that the pupil could forget it, unless his
intelligence were very limited.

And as for teaching "men, not parrots"?

In each lesson, after the teacher has briefly gone through the work that has been
prepared, and has explained the meanings of the words, one of the pupils should be
allowed to rise from his place and repeat what has just been said in the same order (just
as if he were the teacher of the rest), to give his explanations in the same words, and to
employ the same examples, and if he make a mistake he should be corrected. Then
another can be called up and made go through the same performance while the rest
listen. After him a third, a fourth, and as many as are necessary, until it is evident that all
have understood the lesson and are in a position to explain it. In carrying this out great
care should be taken to call up the clever boys first, in order that, after their example, the

stupid ones may find it easier to follow.

We seem to have a dual tradition in second language teaching: namely, a theoretical
stance that views language above all as a rich and complex system of human
communication that is best acquired through meaningful interaction with interesting
content as opposed to a pedagogical practice that insists on accuracy, explicit instruction
in rules, and rote learning of grammatical forms. Five hundred years of experience is
ample testimony that true change in institutional practice is difficult to effect; but it is
especially so if we--as agents of change--don't make clear what it is that constitutes the
innovation. By discussing the role of grammar, it is my hope that this teleconference will
function as the first of many long overdue steps in clearing up misunderstandings of the
type that we have witnessed in the history of our profession and, thus, bring practice
more in line with theory, research, and centuries of experience.
Thank you.