As you walk around the Maltese Islands, you will undoubtedly spot two things. A church. And a crane. Both signify life in Malta.
The church stands as a testament to our religious roots and cultural identity. Christianity arrived in AD60 with St Paul’s famous shipwreck and eventually became the island’s dominant faith. Even though Arabs later conquered Malta in AD870, Christianity came back in AD1019 when the Normans from Sicily reconquered Malta and restored our faith.
The size of our island is also significant, as it is very small: this is what makes our sense of community huge. It also made that faith incredibly strong for many years, although this is no longer the case.
Our faith kept us conservative as a country, and the echoes of this are still felt today. It is that conservatism which kept life simple in Malta. This was a time when building large towers on this small, secluded island was incomprehensible.
And we are small yet mighty, and yes, we are incredibly proud. We are proud and generous, perhaps because of this religious upbringing, or perhaps because, being so small, we feel ‘insignificant’ and wish to prove ourselves to the rest of the world.
“I don’t believe our past dictates our present: if anything, it’s quite the opposite”
Yet today, I don’t believe our past dictates our present: if anything, it’s quite the opposite. This may not be a bad thing, and we should always move forward, even if we might be one of the last countries to do so! Maybe, however, despite our conservatism, we have moved to the opposite extreme and are now doing something of which our ancestors would entirely disapprove. The over-construction that has taken over our islands is disheartening. Once, Malta was defined by church domes − now, it’s cranes that dominate our skyline. Our generosity has turned into greed.
“Once, Malta was defined by church domes − now, it’s cranes that dominate our skyline”
Is that because Malta feels overlooked and irrelevant on the world stage, because we don’t feel we truly belong or that we are enough, and that with these newer, larger modern buildings, we hope to be praised more and visited more? The higher the tower, the richer the tourists? Is that the ‘only’ way we can be as good as the others?
As we embrace modernity, our classical charm is slowly fading away to a contemporary aesthetic, which doesn’t blend into the older surroundings. Very modern buildings against very old ones look incongruous and are often a huge eyesore. It has become normal to see old houses destroyed, only to make way for another block of identical flats. Some perceive it as progress, but most of us see this as destruction. Sadly, this is now our normal, and speaking up can seem useless.
So, yes, the church and the crane both tell our story, but one of them is of our past and the other is the future we are choosing. One is shouting, while the other barely whispers. Maybe our challenge isn’t choosing between them but learning how they can coexist without letting one erase the other.
Although nature activists such as Moviment Graffitti are engaged in a constant fight against over-construction, it currently seems unlikely that urban development will slow.
So, if we hope that our homeland will become greener in the future, perhaps it’s time to look back at what our ancestors once preached: simplicity, respect, and community.
