The collection of essays in Breaking the Silence contributes an authentic and transparent historical narrative focusing on those marginalised and penalised for their homosexuality. It additionally evidences the deafening silence felt in past decades from appalling circumstances that left little local information in our history books.

Breaking the Silence has brought together numerous sources and materialised new information to update us on the facts. It speaks about homosexual persons who hid their identity in shame and fear and still did so after the legitimisation of the term in the 19th century.

Considering that homosexual behaviour is natural and also has been observed in studies of animals in the early 20th century, the overall legitimisation of homosexual persons happened disturbingly late in the day.

The book additionally stresses the fact that the identity of the homosexual person itself was recognised in the mid-20th century at the time of post-modernism. During that time, the emergence of disciplines had shed light on an array of diverse identities. The introductory chapter in this collection addresses the interchangeability of gender and identity, a crucial topic to underscore as it points out the complexities and “multi-layeredness’’ of human beings.

Lord Byron, British poet (1788-1824) by Thomas Phillips, oil on canvas, 1813. Photo: Newstead Abbey

Isabelle Vella Gregory discusses this interchangeability against the backdrop of the first account of human civilisation in Malta dating back to 5000 BC. It seems that Neolithic peoples’ main imperative and outlasting prerogative was to prioritise their community’s spiritual beliefs and values.

Gregory explores a non-binary ideology of this community when the large ambiguous figures and figurines are examined. Although the text offers insights into the gender and sexuality aspect, I cannot help but notice the term “community” that echoes in every chapter.

It reminds me that through numbers there is undoubtedly power, whether for a good cause or choosing from the lesser of two evils. In this aspect, the first traces of human civilisation in Malta suggest that the inhabitants were accustomed to a certain lifestyle – one that might not yet have realised the technique of “divide and conquer” or did not abide by it. Nevertheless, the regime of divide and conquer might just have been overpowering to the ego for many.

Another requisite aspect of the volume is Giovanni Bonello’s discussion and research on the recurring suffering of homosexual persons. The context highlighted is the period of the reign of the Order of St John of Jerusalem. Reading through these pages in the book is not for the faint-hearted, although it portrays a reality for what it was: the victimisation of gay people recorded as early as 1428.

The additional homophobia of the knights left no room for other measures and the harshest penalties persisted in Malta. No restraint, to the extent that members of the knighthood guilty of sodomy were also tortured and subjected to sadistic practices. Lesbian acts on the other hand were not subject to punishment or rather were not taken seriously. Not to the extent that they were considered criminal offences. Alternatively, women had their own set of constraints, suffering at the hands of the patriarchal system for decades.

James (‘Jem’) Belcher by Charles Allingham, seen here at the height of his powers wearing a ‘belcher’, the name given to his style of spotted neckcloths; oil on canvas, c. 1800-1801. Photo: National Portrait Gallery, London

Another fascinating aspect of this volume is the mention of the Remarkable Trials in Konrad Buhagiar’s essay. Buhagiar’s writing cleverly takes the reader on a journey through the British artist Charles Allingham’s life in the UK and Malta and yet the mention of these trials is what makes the essay all the more relevant. The Remarkable Trials silenced an entire nation leaving a crime without a name. Consequently, this effected with full force a necessity of concealment that spilled over into the decades following it.

This passive silence due to societal prejudice passed on from generation to generation and has morphed itself up to the present day. Nowadays there is a lack of recognition for LGBTIQ+ persons.

Breaking the Silence continues to discuss the past torments and fragmented identities that the sociological contexts of the past had left behind. Nevertheless, it is not the sole theme of the book. There is also a concurrent theme of empowerment.

The additional homophobia of the knights left no room for other measures and the harshest penalties persisted in Malta

Homosexual persons endured rough weathers with undefeatable power. A power to protect one another through, once again, strong community values.

The essay by George Cini gives the readers an insight into another aspect of community by narrating the happenings in Strada Stretta, at that time known as ‘The Gut.’ Strada Stretta had carved a reputation for violence and brawls but what is less spoken of is how it brought together drag queens, cross-dressers, burlesque dancers and more, who were typically ostracised by society.

Brigitte Bond, c. 1965. Photo courtesy of the family, 2023.

Cini mentions unforgettable persons and places that played a role in defining the street’s liveliness. It is Cini’s mention of Joe Xuereb’s e-mail to him that struck a chord – Xuereb speaks about having nowhere to go in the 1960s as a gay man. To hang out in those bars, seemed to be the only option for gays and their pursuits.

The violence that occurred there did not stop the community from living their lives. Joseph Chetcuti gives us a closer look into the two decades that followed: the 70s and 80s, with the loss of their geographical communities. The essay also discusses the rise of the number of gay-friendly bars, the emergence of the Mattachine Society’s list of venues as “the list’” of gay-friendly places, and the societal prejudice that marched on despite the decriminalisation of the ‘acts against nature’ in 1973.

Photos of British sailors contained in one of the albums of Charlie Willie Camilleri (Il-Golliwog) who was from Bormla. Collecting these photos was one of his pastimes.

The volume speaks of an energy of intolerance that spread like wildfire up until the 90s. Joseph Fountain addresses the Malta gay scene into the 90s as not yet having caught up with the rest of the world in terms of acceptance, awareness and celebrations. It seems that the religious beliefs of the Maltese population had embedded this intolerance for far too long for people to easily change their mentalities.

Fountain talks us through the liberation that was felt after having founded the monthly parties of Natasha. They were finally a safe space that lasted until 1996 and were among the earliest that included drag queen shows. The tensions of prejudice started to slightly simmer out. The spread of awareness worldwide is what ultimately led our country to follow. The book also introduces us to the importance of dance, art, literature and theatre with discussions, theories and personal narratives of Malta’s history of the LGBTIQ+ community.

Dorian Mallia speaks about performance as the act of unravelling layers of hidden meaning – the perfect creative means to elicit diverse expressions and break constraints, to move one towards an identity or non-identity and to encourage open-ended conversations. 

Dorian Mallia in The Other Door, What’s Wrong, Why Not!? Photo: Droorizz Photography

I will end this review by addressing a sensitive subject that I have come across through discussions with diverse people in the last couple of years. Nicholas Bugeja speaks about the lack of visibility of the LGBTIQ+ community; that further encourages a silence potentially leading to misinformation and judgement. However, it is also not the first time that homophobic remarks have been addressed to me in connection with the Pride events taking place.

The usual remarks are “Why do they have to show it? Why can they not be normal like everyone else? I do not celebrate being straight.” These questions fill me with feelings of rage and sadness when I see prejudice living on, but it also makes me wonder, what is the adequate direction if we would like to better educate the public and at the same time commemorate the LGBTIQ+ community and the ancestors who made it all possible? After all their resilience should be celebrated, without being taken out of context.

Breaking the Silence is a must-read. It is thought-provoking, informative and finally gives out the message that above all, love is the true conqueror of all.