Cultural translation, universality and emancipation

In a way, the history of Translation Studies, at least for the last decades, has been that of a continuous broadening of the field of study. If the 1990s witnessed the “cultural turn” famously heralded by Mary Snell-Hornby, more recently scholars have turned towards the role that translation plays in cultural dominance and cultural resistance, in what has been referred to as the power turn. At the same time, a converging movement could be observed from outside the field of Translation Studies: Some thinkers, in their quest for new intellectual paradigms to tackle the challenges faced by emancipatory projects, have veered towards translation as a way to overcome particularism and nationalism, while at the same time avoiding the risks of a monocultural universalism that is seen to lead inevitably to imperialism. Translation, by necessarily reaching out to the Other and creating hybridity, offers a unique chance to “square the circle” and find “equivalence in difference.” In this paper, we discuss the ideas about translation of four such thinkers, coming from very different backgrounds and traditions: Ngugi wa Thiong’o, Étienne Balibar, Judith Butler and Boaventura de Sousa Santos.


Introduction
Ngugi wa Thiong'o is a well-known figure, both as a writer and as a vocal advocate for the use of African languages (he does not include European tongues) in African countries and the nations of the Black Diaspora. While the usual argument for the conservation of English as the language of culture and administration stresses the unifying role that it has played in a continent prone to ethnic strife, Ngugi argues that the true language of Africa is and can only be translation, a constant practice of translation that must be promoted by the institutions and taught as a discipline at school. When used that way, translation becomes "an act of patriotism" (2009, p. 128). This patriotism obviously rises above any particular nation. It is a quest for wholeness, the task of "remembering" the dismembered, that is to be achieved through a revitalized interpretation of Pan-Africanism.
Étienne Balibar, a Marxist French philosopher who was a student of Althusser, thinks along the same lines, mutatis mutandis, when confronting a very different context: that of Europe and its political present and future. He is concerned in particular with what he sees as the creation of "a true European Apartheid" (2004, p. 170), which marginalizes large numbers of people both outside and inside its borders, immigrants being a case in point. To reverse this trend, he proposes four "worksites of democracy" (p. 172) one of which concerns the field of European culture. It is there that Europeans must decide, among other things, for whom they are building their political space. Balibar claims that English cannot be the language of Europe, because it is both much more and much less than that (p. 178). Instead, he suggests that this role is to be taken up by translation. This European language of languages reminds us of Ngugi, with whom Balibar also shares the view of the importance that education would have in his project. The French author does, however, specify that the usual concept of translation must be expanded to "broaden the circle of legitimate translation" (thus including languages such as Arabic or Urdu) and must also make the move to a "broader cultural level" (2004, p. 234). The ultimate goal is to create a "means of cultural resistance" that is not built "on the traditionalist and communitarian bases of identitarian 'national languageculture'" (p. 178).
Judith Butler, while reflecting on the possibility of a universalism that does not project an imperialist message, strikes a similar chord. She disagrees that true universality can be expressed from outside a particular culture and language: "the very concept of universality compels an understanding of culture as a relation of exchange and a task of translation" (2000c, pp. 24-25). However, just as we saw with Balibar, translation for Butler is not intrinsically emancipatory, as it can work and has worked in the past to further the goals of colonial expansion, when it is used to implant dominant values in the language of the subordinated. Thus, following the lead of Gayatri Spivak, she vindicates the role of cultural translation (again, the cultural turn) "as both a theory and practice of political responsibility" (p.36).
The last author discussed in this article, Boaventura de Sousa Santos, in his reasoning about decolonization also arrives at translation as a tool to overcome what he calls "lazy reason," which in the name of universality takes as the whole that which cannot be but a simple part. In other words, much like Butler, he claims that any single theory which attempts to grasp the whole world is bound to presuppose "the monoculture of a given totality and the homogeneity of its parts" (2004, p. 36). The alternative to such a grand theory is, precisely, the work of translation. This work takes the form of what Santos calls "diatopical hermeneutics," a sort of negative universalism predicated on the impossibility of cultural completeness (p. 37).
While these authors have much in common, and a coherent agenda could seem to arise from their ideas almost spontaneously, there is at the very least an essential difference in the way they conceptualize translation itself. Ngugi and Balibar adhere to what could be considered the standard understanding of translation as an interlingual practice. Butler and Santos, on the other hand, deploy a considerably broader interpretation of the term. For them, the word translation eminently describes a political practice by which resistance movements from different cultures (not necessarily different languages) can be combined avoiding the pitfalls of both particularism and monocultural universalism. Thus, Butler sees translation as part of an "open-ended hegemonic struggle" (2000c, p. 38), while for Santos "the work of translation becomes crucial to define, in each concrete and historical moment or context, which constellations of non-hegemonic practices carry more counter-hegemonic potential" (2004, p. 42).
In this study we will try to outline a common emancipatory program for the politically-engaged translator based on the work of these thinkers. We will pay special attention to the counter-hegemonic potential of translation as developed by our authors and to the concept of "constellation" advanced by Santos in his works. Another chief concern will be to explore the divide between these two different concepts of translation (interlingual and "cultural"), trying to answer several pressing questions. Can these different notions be unified in such a way that the insights from these thinkers can be reconciled with mainstream translation theory? Do we run the risk of diluting the concept of translation to such an extent, in this constant conceptual broadening, that it ceases to have any solid foundation?

Why translation?
The interplay between translation and culture as conditioned by ideology and power has been under close scrutiny for some time now. Translation Studies as a discipline has undergone a continuous process of expansion that has moved the focus away from merely linguistic and textual considerations, in a trend famously known as the "cultural turn" (Bassnett & Lefevere, 1990). Now this tendency has been taken even further with the incorporation of methods and criteria coming from postcolonial studies, gender studies, queer studies and from the study of the interplay between translation and ideology, politics and power in general, leading some to talk of a "power turn" (Gentzler & Tymoczko, 2002, p. xvi;Tymoczko, 2010, p. 42) and of translation as "a field of power" (Spivak, 2008). There are recent monographs compiling the thought of different scholars on different aspects of that interplay that are expanding and deepening our understanding and conceptualization of translation, such as The Routledge Handbook of Translation and Politics (Fernández & Evans, 2018) or Critical Translation Studies (Robinson, 2017), to name just a few.
On the other hand, outside the field of Translation Studies, some thinkers concerned with finding an alternative to the current political and economic status quo have been involved in a convergent movement, by which they have arrived at translation as a key factor in their own theories. Coming mostly from poststructuralism and what has been termed the "linguistic turn" in politics (Butler, 2000a, p. 271), it could be said that, following a symmetric evolution, these thinkers have developed their own "translation turn" as part of their study of power. What they see in translation is the chance to overcome an antinomy that under one guise or another has plagued and, to some extent, paralyzed progressive thinking over the past decades: that between the (misleading) universalistic discourse of grand theories radiating from the (imperialist) center, and particularism expressed through different appeals to exclusive identity. These particularistic appeals are seen to be divisive and easily neutralized, separately, by global capitalism.
Of course, it is immediately apparent that such a notion of translation must differ from any standard interlinguistic definition. The question whether this wider interpretation of the term, generally categorized as "cultural" translation, can be somehow considered akin to the customary understanding of rendering a text from one language to another is certainly not new in the field of translation studies and it will indeed be an important part of our argument here.
On the other hand, it should likewise be clear that the notion of universalism explicitly or implicitly deployed by the authors examined here does not align with the traditional usage of the term. As a matter of fact, the political and/or philosophical backgrounds of these scholars have made them acutely aware of the pitfalls involved in any universalist program, however well-meaning, that entails an assimilation of difference. Again, this is not an unfamiliar issue for translation scholars, as we shall argue.
As stated earlier, our discussion revolves around the writings of four intellectuals who have explored the emancipatory potential of such a (qualifiedly) universalist notion of translation: Ngugi wa Thiong'o, Étienne Balibar, Judith Butler, and Boaventura de Sousa Santos. The aim of the paper is to find a network of common features in the approach to translation of these intellectuals, translating them into each other, in a way, so as to approach a common notion of translation as a potential vehicle for a new, non-imperalistic universalism. At the same time, we will study their writings in light of some of the latest developments in Translation Studies, in an attempt to establish dialogue and contribute to the convergent movement we mentioned above, exploring the relevance of their ideas for translation scholars and for the actual practice of translators.

Equivalent but different
The interest of these authors in translation is arguably linked with their search for a way to articulate different political claims without diluting or domesticating them in the process. After all, translation has often been characterized as the art of achieving what Jakobson famously defined as "equivalence in difference" (1959/2004, p. 139). A similar line of reasoning offers a way forward for some of these thinkers: the possibility -to invert Santos's denunciation of monocultural universalism-of constructing a whole that is more than the mere sum of its parts, a confluence that somehow respects the diversity of its members, a way out of those intractable antinomies. Thus, in the African context, confronted with the alternative between the specter of ethnic strife fueled by a Babel of languages or the acceptance of the language of the colonizer as lingua franca and vehicle for culture, Ngugi refuses either choice. He opts instead for an ongoing communication among all the actors of a Pan-African Renaissance through the means of translation, the "language of languages, a language through which all languages can talk to one another" (Ngugi, 2009, p. 96). Similarly, in a European context marked by the crisis of the nation-state, Étienne Balibar, following Umberto Eco, turns to "the practice of translation" as both "the only genuine 'idiom of Europe'" (2004, p. 234) and "a means of cultural resistance and a countervailing power, but not on the traditionalist and communitarian bases of identitarian 'national languageculture'" and also "distinct from the globalized circulation of information" (2004, p. 178).i Again, a third way out of a false binomial dilemma, made all the more necessary because some kind of universalized resistance is considered to be indispensable, due to the unviability of "the insistence on exclusive identity and otherness, which the system already produces and instrumentalizes" (Balibar, 1995, p. 70). This is an idea that is echoed in Butler's writing on multiculturalism, which she feels should not be reduced to a mere "politics of particularity" but understood as "a politics of translation" (2000b, p. 168), but which nevertheless avoids a colonial, expansionist assertion of universalism (2000b, p. 35). A similar move can be appreciated in Boaventura de Sousa Santos' rejection of the Western concept of universalism, which he characterizes as "metonymic reason", that is, the obsession with "the idea of totality in the form of order" (2014, p. 167). Again, this rejection of universalism in its common understanding does not entail an entrenchment in particularism: "Recognising the relativity of cultures does not necessarily imply adopting relativism as a philosophical stance" (2012, p. 60). In other words, what these authors have found in translation is a way to "square the circle," to cut the Gordian knot formed by the interlacing of monocultural universalism and essentialist particularism in its various incarnations.
Unsurprisingly, this political potential of translation has not gone unnoticed in specialized literature either. Shaobo Xie, for instance, when discussing it in connection with globalization, posits the potential of translation for a democratic articulation of "universality across cultural boundaries" (Xie, 2018, p. 85). Other authors, however, seem loath to rescue the term from its monocultural baggage and prefer the use of concepts such as openness or cosmopolitanism (Delanty, 2006;Bielsa, 2018).
Despite this common thread, a case could be made that, while Butler and Santos do have universality in mind and they seem to point towards a global theory of translation for emancipation, Balibar and Ngugi are concerned with more "localized" projects. Balibar's starting point, for instance, is a reflection about Europe, its languages and its future. However, he acknowledges that the "impossible" task of translation is to create a "universal community of languages" (2010, p. 318, our emphasis). In fact, universality is a topic to which he has devoted attention elsewhere (e.g. Balibar, 1995). As we have seen, what he is truly after is a means of universalizing resistance, albeit with Europe as a starting point because of its unique history and circumstances. As far as Ngugi is concerned, it is important to keep in mind that, with his extension of the Pan-African world to the black diaspora and his project of translating all the great works into African languages, for instance, he is really "recast[ing] his discourse in the language of cosmopolitanism" and thus creating "a universalistic discourse without precedent in Ngugi's critical work" (Gikandi, 2000, p. 192). After all, his Pan-Africanism stems from a rooted decolonial project that is constantly looking at the future, not the past.
But perhaps the problem lies not so much in the use (or not) of the term "universality" by the authors, but in their understanding of translation. Do they all mean the same by it? This is a key issue that merits a thorough analysis, but first we need to take a look at what is it that makes translation so enticing for these scholars.

Impossible but necessary
At the root of the movement towards translation we have witnessed in sociology, philosophy and political thought, we find the growing importance of culture and language in the field of politics, the aforementioned "linguistic turn." This is a discussion that goes well beyond the scope of this paper, but one of its offshoots was the re-elaboration of Antonio Gramsci's concept of hegemony put forward by Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe in their Hegemony and Socialist Strategy (1985), where they introduce the idea of "hegemonic universality …, the only one that a political community can reach" (loc. 98). It is precisely this concept of universality that Judith Butler, for instance, wants to "restage" in terms of cultural translation. And it is precisely in a book named Contingency, Hegemony, Universality, in which she engages with Laclau and Slavoj Žižek in a conversation regarding the topics referred to in the title, where she develops that notion of cultural translation in more detail. We will take that conversation as a starting point because it offers an interesting window into the possibilities of translation within the context of political struggles.
To begin with, when trying to summarize Butler's postulates, Laclau provides us with a helpful definition: "cultural translation" would be "the deterritorialization of a certain content by adding something which, being outside the original context of enunciation, universalizes itself by multiplying the positions of enunciation from which that content derives its meaning" (2000, p. 194). We will try to ascertain whether this definition can be extended to cover not only Butler's but any other concept of "cultural translation" and, perhaps, even what is usually known as interlingual translation. At the very least, it offers a refreshing alternative to the trite, pessimistic view of translation as a doomed endeavor, where anything that is added constitutes a mistake or a disloyalty: the copy that strives but never quite manages to match the originaltranslation as an impossible endeavor. Thus, while in their own way all our authors acknowledge this "impossibility," they all turn it on its head. For Balibar, translation is both "an impossible task" (2010, p. 318) and a necessary one, the same adjectives that Ernesto Laclau uses to characterize the paradox at the heart of the construction of hegemony (2000, p. 66). Of course, if something like translation is "impossible" and simultaneously not only necessary, but an everyday reality, the real problem lies with our definition of the activity or our expectations about it. The actual impossibility is the "effort to establish universality as transcendent of cultural norms" (Butler, 2000c, p. 20), the dream of cultural completeness that would allow the formulation of a general theory from within a single cosmovision (Santos, 2012, p. 60). In translation proper, to follow Jakobson's terminology (2004, p. 139), this impossibility is best understood by considering the problems associated with the tertium comparationis: often, when trying to determine the adequacy of a translation, scholars, implicitly or explicitly, take as a reference point a hypothetical intermediate invariant, that is accepted as "a universal given" (Munday, 2009, p. 112). The premise that we can have access to that universal invariant from a particular culture is necessarily predicated on the idea that there can be a monocultural affirmation of universality. The hidden subjectivity that is necessarily involved in such a process is analyzed, for instance, in Hermans' discussion of Toury's early theories (Hermans, 2014, p. 57). The partiality of any translation, the inescapable choices involved in its elaboration, its contingency in other words, is not a flaw but "a necessary condition of the act" (Gentzler & Tymoczko, 2002, p. xviii).

Translation and equivalence
However, despite their apparent programmatic coincidence about the underlying notion, Laclau explicitly rejects Judith Butler's use of the term translation, because it "retains the teleological nuance of the possibility of a total substitution of one term by another" (2000, p. 194-5). His line of reasoning connects with two legitimate objections to the use of the term "translation" in this wider, cultural-political framework that it would be remiss not to address. First, there is the possible over-extension of the scope of translation, the problem we hinted at in the previous section: is the notion of "(inter)cultural translation" as a "general activity of communication between cultural groups" just a metaphor based on "proper," interlingual translation (Pym, 2014, p. 154)? Or is it possible to think of both concepts as referring to the same practice, so that they can be said to share a continuum or, even, a hierarchical relationship by which interlingual translation could be considered a particular case of intercultural translation, which would therefore become "translation" proper?
The second issue: even assuming that both intercultural and interlingual translation ultimately refer to the same activity, is it strategically convenient to keep the same term in both cases?

Interlingual or intercultural
Is it legitimate, then, to talk about cultural translation? In objecting to the term, Laclau could be assuming a hard divide between "translation" in the standard, restricted sense of the Jakobsian interlingual translation, that is, the "interpretation of verbal signs by means of some other language" (Jakobson, 1959(Jakobson, /2004) and translation in the extended meaning deployed by Butler (but also Santos and other authors) as outlined above. This is of capital importance for us since, by extending the meaning of translation in order to apply it to the political and ideological sphere, we could seem to be referring to something that has little to do with the generally accepted interpretation of the term -for instance, when Butler wonders: "Can a translation be made between the struggle against racism, for instance, and the struggle against homophobia…?" (2000a, p. 168).
This extended approach resembles what Santos defines as his second type of translation work, the one concerned with practices (while the first type, also called "diatopical hermeneutics", deals with knowledges). In those instances, "the work of translation focuses specifically on mutual intelligibility among forms of organisation and objectives and styles of action and types of struggle" (2012, p. 60). However, he himself acknowledges that, even if intercultural translation is usually conceived as a metaphor, metaphors tend to become literalized with repeated use. This is in fact the case with the standard Western view of translation as transfer, itself a metaphor that is not necessarily shared by other cultures (Tymoczko, 2009, p. 177). Not only that, but any interlingual translation involves cultural considerations, so the line between interlingual and intercultural is blurry at best (Santos, 2014, p. 215). This is an idea shared by Sherry Simon, for whom "there cannot be a clear-cut distinction between cultural translation and the ordinary kind, because … even the linguistic categories used to define translation are more than linguistic" (Buden, Nowotny, Simon, Bery, & Cronin, 2009, p. 210). For Santos, thus, the distinction between both kinds of translation is in the end one of "emphasis or perspective" (2004, p. 41). And indeed, the other examples with which he illustrates the potential of diatopical hermeneutics are more word-bound, inasmuch as his terms of choice are culturemes with a whole worldview behind them. Thus, he brings together "the Western concept of human rights with the Islamic concept of umma and the Hindu concept of dharma," or the Western figure of the philosopher and the African figure of the sage (2014, p. 229). A similar continuity seems to be at work in the use Butler makes of her concept of "cultural translation," for which she, as mentioned, draws from G. C. Spivak and explicitly quotes from her foreword and afterword for the translation of Mahasweta Madi's book Imaginary Maps (Butler, 2000c, p. 35). This suggests a continuity between the cultural factors involved in the interlingual translation of a text and Butler's concept of cultural translation as a recasting of Laclau's elaboration of the notion of (hegemonic) universality. In other words, while Butler and Santos certainly use "(inter)cultural translation" to refer to what Pym insightfully defines as "a process in which there is no start text and usually no fixed target text" (2014, p. 138), they also seem to conceive it as a particular, politically-aware approach to the translation of texts. This continuity from interlingual to cultural translation seems to be shared by Balibar as well, when he proposes "stretching the idea of 'translation' from the merely linguistic to the broader cultural level" (2004, p. 234; his emphasis). As a rule, Ngugi sticks to the "narrower," interlingual conception of translation, even though his ultimate goal is the creation of "a true commonwealth of cultures and literatures" (1993, p. 29) and "a real dialogue between the literatures, languages and cultures of the different nationalities within any one country" (1987, p. 85).
The legitimacy of such an expanded use of the term translation has of course been debated by scholars in the field. Douglas Robinson, for instance, introduces a similar concept with his translingual address, defined as "empathic exposure to and experience of at least two cultures-such as cisnormative and transgender, binary and nonbinary, Finnish and English-and the resulting ability to shift attitudinally, perspectivally, in moving from one to the other" (2019, p. xi). In that regard, his notion (and Sakai's "heterolingual address" from which it is evolved) do not seem to "compete" on the same level as translationthey do not involve an alternative to translation but rather an approach to it. That being said, Robinson would appear to veer towards a clearly "cultural" understanding of the term, since he claims to adopt the sociological model of translation developed by Michel Callon and Bruno Latour (xvii) and he himself defines translation as "an umbrella term" operating not only on national languages but also on "sexual, ideological, or scholarly discourses, or discursive orientations" (xii)indeed a long way from any merely linguistic interpretation of the term. It would seem that there is some precedent, then, for the exploration of this expanded understanding of translation. However, other scholars have put forward objections to this notion that have more to do, perhaps, with connotation and expectations.

Translation as a suspect concept
Indeed, some might object to this wider use of the term "translation" not so much because it is conceptually unsound, but because of the aforementioned "teleological" connotations. We already stated, following Toury, that a translation is anything presented or regarded as such in the target culture (Toury, 1995, p. 32). It is fair to say that many would take issue with the idea that translating between feminism and class struggle is, at the core, the same as translating a novel from English to Spanish, for instance. Therefore, the use of an alternative term could seem a sensible strategy so as not to raise unwarranted resistance, on the one hand, and to banish the specter of monocultural universalism implicit in the "transparent" understanding of translation, on the other. This is part of the reason why other terms have been proposed to refer to this broader activity, leaving "translation" as a sub-set within them: transfer, mediation, and so on.
With that in mind, is there any merit in clinging to the term "translation" over those alternatives? Because there is an option: translation is regulated by social norms, which means that, as a social and cultural construct, the notion of "acceptable" or "correct" translation is not set in stone. In the appropriate circumstances, norms can be subverted since they are not, per se, "neither true nor false" (Hermans, 1996, p. 36). As a matter of fact, the poetics of any literary system has often more to do with ideology than with linguistic considerations (Lefevere, 1992, p. 31), and as such it can be resisted and subverted if necessary. But should it? The problem with establishing different terms for intercultural and interlingual translation is precisely that, by doing so, the latter fully retains the "nuance," the teleological suggestion of total transparency that obfuscates its ideological component. In other words, the illusion of "total substitution" so endemic in interlingual translation, is maintained and even reinforced by the existence of a separate practice under a different name -be it "equivalence" (Laclau, 2000, p. 194), "transfer" (Göpferich, 2010) or any other candidateas a contrast. In a classical ideological maneuver, cultural translation could be perceived (and doubtlessly criticized from some quarters) as "political," with the usual corollary that "proper" translation (the one carried out in compliance with the dominant norms) is neutral and apolitical (faithful, selfless, invisible when done right). However, if our main contention is that no culture can fully contain the world, if we want a specific politics of contamination, of cultural impurity (Butler, 2000b, p. 276), to abide by the norms regarding "acceptable" translation could be counterproductive. This is why the authors we examined generally make a point to specify that their allegiance to translation assumes a counter-hegemonic approach to the activity, with a specific set of goals and priorities.

The goal
The first salient feature of the approach proposed by our authors is the stress on the purpose of any given translation. Of interest for them is the potential of translation as a "means of cultural resistance and a countervailing power" (Balibar, 2004, p. 178), its "counter-hegemonic potential" (Santos, 2012, p. 61), or its "counter-colonial possibility" (Butler, 2000c, p. 36) when applied against the dominant discourse "in the service of the struggle for hegemony" (Butler, 2000a, p. 168). They all consider translation an instrument of resistance, a vehicle for emancipation. Stressing this goal is important, because translation by itself is not inherently counter-hegemonic. In fact, all of our authors point out that, without a conscious effort and a political commitment on the part of the translator, translation can be a vehicle for domination and oppression, colonial or otherwise (Balibar, 2010, p. 317;Butler, 2000c, p. 35;Ngugi, 2009, p. 125;Santos, 2014, p. 229). Again, this connects with investigations carried out within the realm of Translation Studies. If we go back to Douglas Robinson's (2019) notion of translingual address, we can see that it has do to with empathy and the ability to implement an attitudinal, or perspectival, shift. Not only that, but Robinson builds on previous studies by Sakai Naoki, who advocates "the restoration of all human communication to the attitude of heterolingual address" (Robinson 2017, xii). What is needed, then, is an attitude, an ethical approach to translation, acknowledging the political responsibility inherent to the task, as formulated by Spivak (1992Spivak ( /2004). This is a responsibility that is not a right, that is "beyond the law and that must also be distinguished from the concept of duty" (Bielsa & Aguilera, 2017, p. 7). One cannot help but think of Levinas and how relevant responsibility towards the Other is in his thought; and, in fact, Butler (2012) has explored the connection between Levinasian ethics and translation. Not in vain one of the avowed goals of Levinas was to make his way "towards a pluralism that does not merge into unity" (1987, p. 42). How can this responsibility be heeded in the practice of interlingual translation? The answer is not straightforward. What our authors in general recommend has more to do, as we said, with an attitude towards the activity than with an explicit strategy or set of procedures: in other words, more to do with an ethical disposition that is not devoid of emotion. Thus, translation for Santos (2014, p. 217) offers a way to "cope with diversity and conflict" and to do so "con passionalità," (borrowing from Gramsci), while Butler claims that "the task of the postcolonial translator … is to bring into relief the nonconvergence of discourses" (2000c, p. 36). Likewise, for Balibar, cultural translation involves "acknowledging certain impossibilities ('nontranslatable' ideas and forms) and looking for equivalences: scientific, literary, legal and religious 'universals'" (2004, p. 234). Now, the exact way to enact this cultural kind of translation remains something of a mystery. The thing is, of course, that "no single translation strategy can be associated with the exercise of oppression or the struggle for resistance; no single strategy is the strategy of power" (Gentzler & Tymoczko, 2002, p. xx).

Voice of the voiceless
However hard it is to devise a specific counter-hegemonic strategy, there is something that all these theories have in common, and that is a bottom-up approach characterized as a special attention to the disenfranchised, a result of ethical-political commitment. This is a natural focus in the explicitly decolonial projects of Ngugi and Santos, who aim at constructing arrays of knowledges and practices that offer an alternative to the dominant colonial discourse, be it through Ngugi's "re-membering" of a new Pan-African alliance or by means of cultural constellations that make use of the epistemologies of the South against a North-led globalization. However, the same emphasis on the vulnerable is found in Butler's and Balibar's projects. Thus, in keeping with Spivak's notion of the translator's responsibility, Butler is careful to stress how important it is to "keep as one's reference the dispossessed and the unspeakable" (2000a, p. 178). In the European context, Balibar is especially worried with the emergence of a new paradigm of borders that, with the decay of the nation-state, is progressively subdividing the old notion of strangers into something less than foreigners, on the one hand, and something closer to enemies (non-Europeans, especially those coming from the Global South), on the other. The more or less inadvertent outcome is a "European Apartheid." And, as we have seen, one of the weapons against this development is the notion that the circle of languages and cultures in translation conforming the "European language" should include a number of languages -mainly connected with immigration-that a "purist" outlook would not consider necessarily European, such as Arabic, Urdu and so on. (2004, p. 234).

Educating about translation
A final common trait is a concern with promoting knowledge about translation itself, at different levels. The idea here is to raise awareness about the existence and vitality of other languages and, hence, other ways of understanding the world. Balibar, for instance, echoing Umberto Eco once more, advocates "put[ting] into question, in both theory and practice, and particularly at the level of educational practices, the romantic ('Humboldtian') concept of language as a closed totality, the expression of a community equally closed upon itself (at the same time as it is universal in itself alone)" (2004, p. 177; italics in the original). Striking a similar note, Ngugi envisions a multilingual society where children are taught a number of languages from anywhere in the world to promote the sort of multicultural dialogue he proposes, with "the art of translation" as an integral part of the curriculum in schools and colleges (1987, p. 85, 1993, pp. 58-59), including the use of "translations as legitimate text of study" (1993, p. 29). We have already seen how Balibar also adheres to the notion of expanding the base of "legitimate" languages for translation, which would also entail their being taught and practiced more widely (2004, p. 234). Understandably, this focus on education and multilingualism is more visible in Balibar and Ngugi, who, in general terms, stick to the interlingual side of cultural translation. Butler and Santos, on the other hand, tend to view the translator as an intellectual activist who is already living on the border between at least two cultures, mediating between social actors. Be that as it may, a certain education about translation, or at least an effort to raise awareness about the cultural side of the task and the necessity for what Eugene Nida (2004) called dynamic equivalences (seen not only as inevitable losses, but also as a source of "gains"), is a pre-condition for any widening of the field of acceptable translations, be it in terms of languages involved, procedures accepted or extension of the term's definition. The fact remains that large sections of the translating process are out of the translator's hands. That is why, Ngugi, for instance, calls for "a grand alliance of publishers, translators, financiers, and governments" (2009, p. 126).

Conceptualizing translation
In our view, while the convergent projects of the authors we have studied here certainly invite a new, productive way of looking at social struggles and multiculturalism, they are also interesting as a prism through which an intriguing new conceptualization of even "proper", interlingual translation can be gleaned. Thus, taking into account what we have seen, it is not unreasonable to contend that translating a text is, first and foremost, to universalize it, and through it the culture it belongs to, by "multiplying the positions of enunciation" from which it "derives its meaning" (Laclau 2000, p. 194). Our response to commonly heard objections about what is lost, what is missing in the translation of any text, is that there is something missing in any original that can only be gained via translation and also, perhaps more importantly, something missing in the target culture that can only be provided by a translation. One could almost say that universality, thus understood, is an emergent property arising from the collaborative interaction of those multiplied positions of enunciation. In that regard, any text and its translations can be conceived as a constellation of sorts, as Santos observed -not unlike Even-Zohar's (1990) systems within systems-, the exact configuration of which is in a state of constant evolution.ii However, this flux, this contingency, is not a deficiency of "really existing" translation as compared to what it should be. Nor is it a constant refining towards an ultimately unreachable goal, but a constitutive characteristic of it, because -whether we are dealing with written texts or political struggles-the only true universalism is a contingent, hegemonic one. The idea of a monocultural affirmation of universality is as chimeric, if not counterproductive, as the notion of truly creating the fabled translation "that reads just like the original." Thus, a text in its universalizing movement is in a constant state of flux along a horizontal axis of languages and cultures, but also along a vertical, transtemporal axis. It could be tempting to see this network as having a clear center, the original. And in fact, the existence of an original that precedes any translation, and thus resides on a different level, contrasts with what happens between, say, the feminist movement and the decolonial struggle, as Pym points out when implying that translation proper (as opposed to cultural ii Here, it would be interesting to expand the notion in order to include any rewriting of a text as part of this universalizing process, following Lefevere (1992). Regrettably, exploring this idea is beyond the reach of this study. translation) has a start text. Nevertheless, we should be cautious before assigning the original that immutable, central position. For the sanctity of the original has suffered serious blows with the advent of post-structuralist theories, and in particular with Derrida and his positing of all texts as translations (Gentzler, 2017, p. 9). No translation reads just like the original, but no original reads just like the original either. Not only that: to this pre-condition of any text, we have to add the fact that no original really stays the same after translation, due to what Gentzler calls post-translation after-effects (p. 16): by providing an afterlife for them, as Walter Benjamin remarked, "translations shape their 'originals'" (Tymoczko, 2010, p. 126). All in all, when translating between cultures we enter "an open-ended relational and reciprocal gesture of freedom putting into question the 'translator' and the 'original' itself" (Ivekovic, 2005).

The task of the translator
Following the converging dual movement mentioned at the beginning (from inside Translation Studies outwards and vice versa), we could say that the projects put forward by our authors have a number of implications, both for political and social emancipatory agents, who should increasingly perceive themselves as cultural translators, and for translators in the customary sense, who should become more aware of the political and social dimensions of their work. It is the latter that concerns us here.
For translators, this different way of looking at their profession can have a number of effects. First, to make them aware of the central importance of translation in culture and politics, and the other way around. This is an unavoidable insight once cultural considerations are acknowledged as a key element for any translation, since "precisely by becoming cultural, translation opens up the problem of its intrinsic political meaning" (Buden et al., 2009, p. 196). Crucially, this should go hand in hand with an understanding of the hegemonic nature of the universalization process enacted through every translation and of the deep ethical implications involved therein. As we mentioned earlier, this entails a personal change of perspective: "a nonconformist attitude vis-à-vis the limits of one's knowledge and practice and the readiness to be surprised and to learn with and from the other's knowledge and practice" (Santos, 2014, p. 227). Instead of blindly abiding by the normsfor instance, the insistence on the purity and integrity of the target languageevery translator should contemplate the possibility of an ethics of impurity, especially when to do otherwise would risk contributing to the oppression of the voiceless; "if we are disposed to respond to a claim that is not immediately assimilable into an already authorized framework, then our ethical disposition to the demand engages in a critical relation to power" (Butler, 2012, p. 25).
This reaching out for the emancipatory potential of translation, together with its representation as the only avenue for true universalism, may sound farfetched, one of Spivak's "easy rewards of inspirational prose" (1994, p. 269). However, the ubiquity and familiarity of translation should not obfuscate the fact that, behind "equivalence in difference" (Jakobson 1959(Jakobson /2004, there still lies a true enigma. As John Searle said apropos of the workings of the mind, when taking a philosophical outlook, "you have to allow yourself to be astounded by what any sane person takes for granted" (Searle, 1999). Impossible but necessary translation may well be, yet it is also both everyday and extraordinary. It is true, as we have seen, that translation is not intrinsically positive, ethical or progressive and that it can indeed be quite the opposite (Buden et al., 2009, p. 201;Tymoczko, 2009, p. 187). Perhaps all it offers is "an opening-up of meaning, crossing the line, and never a promise of exhaustiveness" (Ivekovic, 2005), but this opening-up, if seized with intellectual rigor and a sense of responsibility, remains the only path towards truly universal emancipation.