Remember the word Esperanto? Those of you of my generation will surely have amply heard and read about the hype way back in the '70s about the attempt to promote and establish a universal language. There was even a celebration of World Esperanto Day on December 15.

A utopian dream would have been to have a universal government, a universal currency, a universal citizenship, a universal army and navy, and a universal language. Part of Lennon's lyrics for the musical hit 'Imagine" will surely echo in our ears. Yet how many of today's younger generations are aware of the idea behind Esperanto, of its progression as a universal language to be studied and spoken?

For quite a substantial number of years now, the word itself has been conspicuously absent from the written word and digital social media, and, consequently, it is pertinent today to ask a few questions and strive to find satisfactory answers to them.

Esperanto had its origins in the creative mind of Polish ophthalmologist Ludovic Zamenhof as far back as 1887. He intended it to be a universal second language for international communication. But almost a hundred and forty years later, is Esperanto just a joke, something not to be taken seriously, an utter failure, or something that is perhaps indeed worthy of our serious attention?

Esperanto was intended to be an artificial and planned language, much in contradiction to the basic principles of Darwin's Theory of Evolution. Based on these principles, language is a natural product of any society and has its own natural way of evolving and developing. Like all living creatures, a language evolves and develops slowly. Esperanto, intended to overcome language differences in society, tried to change that principle.

Esperanto is similar to the story of Frankenstein, which is about human beings wanting to challenge nature by creating a man. In other words, Esperanto was inspired by an unorthodox challenge to somehow create an artificial language. Artificiality to a certain extent, though, since Esperanto started off with a mix of French, English, Spanish, German, and Slavic languages, making it supposedly easy to pick up. That notwithstanding, for quite a considerable time, Esperanto was considered just a toy language for nerds. Because of this, it was not uncommon to hear about the Esperanto "movement," which almost makes it seem like a religious or political movement.

Perhaps a few might remember that such a movement somehow found its way into Malta too. Indeed, we had a Malta Esperanto Society with offices in Valletta, which used to organise courses in Esperanto. Till about ten years ago, this society was still operative, but I am not sure whether it is still functioning these days.

Moreover, years ago, an international Esperanto publishing house published Dr Carmel Mallia's Esperanto translation of Il-Ħolma Maltija, Frans Sammut's novel about Mikiel Anton Vassalli, with the title La Malta Revo. Incidentally, it was also Dr Mallia who, in 1987, published his research work about the Early Esperanto Movement in Malta dating back to around 1906, whose pioneer was Dr Gustav Busuttil. In honour of Esperanto and its founder, we have a street in Msida named after it, and there is a monument dedicated to him at the Yacht Marina in Msida.

Today, Esperanto is spoken, taught, and learned in around 120 countries around the world, but it faces resistance from those who consider it too hard a language to learn without culture, history, or indigenous literature. Esperanto learners cannot involve their emotions in the study when they have no idea what the "soul" of the language is. Esperanto, they contend, is just a boring artificial language that does not attract people to learn and speak it without any background or history.

Zamenhof's original intention was to eliminate the gap among people by creating an international language that was easy to learn and not overburdened with grammar or intonation rules. Hopefully, people will remember that Esperanto's real mission is to facilitate multilateral exchanges between languages and cultures. The world would be a richer place if it spoke with one voice, and it would be a more peaceful place if all voices could be heard.

So, there we are. The world still has a language problem. Is it not a fact that most of us have had to speak in a language in which we could not speak altogether freely or listen to a language we could not always understand with ease? This is sufficient evidence of that. Esperanto offers a possible solution-a radical solution, waiting in the wings for humankind to decide whether to call it onto the world stage.

Whether you think that those who argue for Esperanto are right or you think that they are wrong, whether you think that Esperanto has some hope of success or you think it a lost cause, whatever your opinion, I would dare argue that we all have a scholarly responsibility towards it: namely, to do our best to ensure that Esperanto and its users should be taken seriously as a possible subject of study at university, just as we are prepared to study any other languages and other linguistic phenomena seriously.

Consider what may lie ahead in the field of economic power. Over the next fifty or a hundred years, will we be seeing the economic decline of the United States and perhaps the rise of China? What would such a scenario mean for the world language scene? Does it mean the likely decline of English and its replacement in international relations by Chinese? Is that the language our grandchildren will have to learn? Or can we take the whole language question out of the realm of power relations and solve it in a rational and efficient way?

What kind of world do we live in that has room for dog yoga but not for Esperanto?

Dr Mark Said is a lawyer