The importance of the Maltese language

A petition launched by an Italian student to make Italian an official language in Malta made headlines. The Times of Malta later revealed that the student never actually visited the island, and can therefore be easily dismissed as a stupid or provocative act by a silly young foreigner. Nevertheless, the petition gathered more than 8,000 signatures within just one week. Locally the petition was met with a strong backlash, with many taking to social media to dismiss the initiative. The petition was therefore most likely supported by the large Italian expat community residing in Malta.

Gabriele Bini's petition argued that adding Italian alongside Maltese and English would restore a sense of cultural rapprochement with Malta’s neighbour. The proposal may sound harmless, even romantic, but the very fact that it gained traction forces us to confront a deeper reality: the Maltese language is seemingly facing attacks on all fronts, leaving us wondering about its fragility, but also its power. In today’s article, we investigate how language is not just a medium of communication. It is a projection of power, a marker of identity, and a tool for nation-building. As a nation, we have to recognise that Maltese needs to do the same.

Language as Power

Every society wrestles with the politics of language. To declare a language “official” is to enshrine it in law and grant it a privileged role in administration, education, and public life. Which language a state chooses to recognise sends a signal about who belongs to the country, whose history is recognised, and whose voice matters. Language, in this sense, is not neutral. It creates hierarchies, shapes opportunities and projects power.

History shows us how states and political movements have used language to extend sovereignty and influence beyond their borders. France’s promotion of French through la Francophonie sustains its cultural reach across Africa decades after decolonisation. Russia’s invocation of “protecting Russian speakers” has been used as justification for interventions in Ukraine. Nazi Germany claimed legitimacy over Austria and Czechoslovakia’s Sudetenland on the basis of German-speaking populations. Italy’s own irredentist movement once justified claims over South Tyrol, Dalmatian ports, and even Malta on linguistic grounds. Mussolini himself saw Malta as “la figlia perduta”, the lost daughter. This was his justification for attacking Malta.

So one begs the question. Why would an Italian student with no connection to Malta want to push Italian as an official language? In this light, the petition to restore Italian’s official status in Malta should not be seen as a simple gesture of cultural friendship. It carries echoes of how language has historically served as a vehicle of political claim-making. Seeing the strong online backlash, it is safe to assume that many of the signatories were likely not Maltese citizens but Italian residents or sympathisers. Their support suggests not just an interest in daily convenience but a lingering desire to show their capacity to impose Italian influence (perhaps just symbolically) into Malta’s national fabric.

History of the Maltese language

Malta’s story reflects these tensions acutely. Maltese, rooted in Semitic origins but layered with centuries of Italian and later English influence, emerged as the spoken language of the people. Italian, until 1934, was the language of the elite: law, culture, and the church all operated in it. The British, keen to undercut Italian influence, pushed English into the education system and administration. The difficulty of the Maltese to enshrine their own language into their own ruling system shows the oppressive nature of the island rulers.

The long and bitter “Language Question” dominated Maltese politics in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Maltese elite society was polarised between two camps: the pro-Italian faction, who regarded Italian as the natural language of law, culture, and administration, and the pro-British faction, who favoured English as the language of modernisation and imperial connection. The Constitutional Party, under Gerald Strickland, pushed strongly for English in line with British imperial interests, while the Nationalist Party, led by Enrico Mizzi, defended Italian’s prestige as Malta’s traditional cultural language. Maltese, meanwhile, was spoken by the people but largely absent from formal life. Yet by the 1920s it was beginning to gain recognition as a symbol of national identity, bolstered by writers, activists, and the creation of the Għaqda tal-Kittieba tal-Malti in 1920.

The decisive break came in 1934, when the British colonial government resolved the issue unilaterally. In the wake of pre-WW2 tensions, Italian was struck off as an official language, leaving English and Maltese in its place. For the first time, Maltese was formally elevated to official status alongside English. The decision had both strategic and populist motives. Strategically, it cut Malta off from Italy at a time when Mussolini’s regime was expanding across the Mediterranean. Populist, because it acknowledged the nationalist demand that the people’s language receive the recognition long denied to it. By the time the Second World War broke out, Maltese and English were firmly established as the island’s official pair.

After the war, the political divide over language persisted but shifted. Dom Mintoff, though more suspicious of British influence, never opposed English as official; his vision of Malta’s development (integration talks with Britain in the 1950s, later non-aligned diplomacy) required English for practical purposes. The Nationalist Party, led by George Borg Olivier, retained cultural sympathies for Italian but increasingly accepted that it could no longer realistically claim a place in official life. By the 1950s, the idea of restoring Italian had faded. When independence negotiations began in earnest, the bilingual arrangement born in 1934 was cemented. The 1964 Independence Constitution declared Maltese and English the official languages of Malta. Italian, tainted by its wartime associations and eclipsed institutionally by English, was never seriously reconsidered.

The reasoning behind retaining English alongside Maltese was threefold. First, it provided continuity. Since 1934, the bilingual settlement had defined Malta’s institutions, and to revisit the issue would have reopened a divisive debate the country was eager to move past. Second, it was pragmatic. English had become indispensable in higher education, commerce, law, and international affairs; abandoning it would have left Malta isolated both economically and diplomatically. Third, it preserved balance. Maltese was enshrined as the national language, symbolising identity and sovereignty, while English ensured that Malta remained outward-looking and globally competitive. The settlement thus reflected both pragmatism and principle: Malta would be rooted in its own language but would continue to speak fluently to the wider world.

By independence, both Maltese and English were enshrined in Article 5 of the Constitution as co-official languages. However, the same article 5 elevates Maltese above English in status. Apart from being an official language, Maltese is the only national language of Malta.

The settlement reflected a compromise: Maltese as the language of identity and nationhood, English as the language of international engagement and pragmatism. Italian, once prestigious, was dropped from officialdom but survived in everyday life, through television, schools, and cross-cultural contact with the peninsula. The elite status held by Italian was taken over by English. As such, English remains a form of status signalling until this day, a remnant of a colonialist hierarchical society that no longer exists in Malta.

The Stakes for Nation-Building

Malta is a small state, but its linguistic balancing act has outsized significance. Nation-building is not only about economics or governance; it is also about shared symbols and collective identity. Language binds people together, provides continuity across generations, and sustains a culture that is uniquely its own.

Maltese is more than words; it is the living vessel of Malta’s history and identity. It carries proverbs, folklore, idioms, and expressions that no translation into English or Italian can capture. It is the most quintessential national symbol, the best signal that a person belongs to Malta. To let it fade, or to dilute its place in official life, would be to weaken the glue that holds the nation together.

At the same time, the coexistence of Maltese and English reflects a pragmatic strength. Maltese grounds the nation culturally; English equips it for global engagement. That balance has worked for Malta, allowing it to maintain sovereignty while thriving as an international hub.

Protecting Maltese While Remaining Open

None of this means Malta must retreat into insularity. Multilingualism enriches societies. Italians will continue to be neighbours; Italian culture will continue to be consumed; Maltese can learn Italian in schools. But official recognition carries a symbolic weight that goes beyond daily use.

More importantly, protecting Maltese as the anchor of national life must remain non-negotiable. This requires strong educational policies, consistent use of Maltese in administration and law, and continued promotion of Maltese literature, arts, and media. Other languages may flourish, but Maltese must remain the heart of the nation’s identity.