Reading across Maltese media, two stories recently captured my attention, resonating a familiar narrative that repeats itself across time and space. It’s the age-old tale of “my home/your home”, a dichotomy that has long framed discussions on migration, often sowing seeds of division instead of unity, erecting walls rather than bridges.
Take, for instance, the journey of Walid Nabhan, an esteemed author who, after 35 years in Malta, faces the heart-wrenching decision to depart due to lack of opportunities, the rising costs of living and the housing crisis, met with indifference from Maltese society at the institutional level.
Or consider the plight of Kusi Dismark, known as ‘the barber of Ħamrun’, whose 13-year endeavour to build a new life in Malta is now overshadowed by bureaucratic mazes and his recent departure. Many others are facing the same fate.
What binds these disparate narratives is the pervasive silence from Maltese society, except for a few people, in an indifference that could have catalysed the creation of a more inclusive community rooted in a shared Maltese identity, grounded in facts not myths.
True integration, after all, is never a one-way street; it is a dynamic exchange where individuals find harmony with local culture while cherishing their own identity. The Canadian integration model is one to look at regarding that.
Yet, segments of Maltese society cling to deep-seated resistance towards immigration, whether fuelled by genuine concerns such as that of losing Maltese identi(ties) or tainted by xenophobic biases.
And it is also true that much has been lost but was that lost due to the arrival of boat people or due to misjudged political decisions, such as bad urban planning and the erosion of Maltese land and seascapes?
Integration should be a bridge, not a barrier. It is about blending new cultures and identities through ongoing dialogue with those of the host country, enriching both sides of the equation.
Segments of Maltese society cling to deep-seated resistance towards immigration
Integration, inclusion and identity – the three Is – should be our guiding stars, stripped of partisan political agendas, paving the way for a fairer, more compassionate society that caters to the needs of all – citizens and migrants alike.
Identity integration, then, becomes the tapestry where individuals and communities weave their cultural threads into the fabric of Maltese society, maintaining ties to their roots while embracing what is new. It fosters belonging, inclusion and mutual respect, vital ingredients for nurturing cohesive and harmonious communities.
But let us not forget integration isn’t just about ‘them’ and ‘us’; it’s about an ongoing dialogue between diverse cultures and identities, a dance of mutual enrichment because cultures and identities are not static but living, changing and adapting if they want to thrive or else they become fossilised, dead.
Integration and the establishment of mutual knowledge and trust between locals and immigrants are not only essential for understanding the complexities of migration but are also vital for promoting social cohesion and the well-being of both host communities and migrants alike.
There is also the possibility of a beneficial relationship with the migrants’ own country of origin, like the story of Malta, its own development and the relationship Malta maintained with countries such as Australia and Canada.
To overcome this resistance, we must embark on a journey of empathy, understanding and solidarity. Through open dialogue, (development) education and meaningful initiatives, we can dismantle divisive narratives and those that seek to scapegoat the “stranger” to build bridges of understanding, fostering a truly inclusive and vibrant society in Malta, including for the Maltese themselves.
The integration process should ideally serve as a bridge between cultures, transcending the polarising rhetoric of political propaganda that exploits terms like ‘integration’ and ‘identity’ for divisive purposes and political gain at the price of fuelling hatred.
Integration, instead, should be viewed as a dynamic exchange, where the exchange among and in between cultures and identities with those of the host country and their autochthonous populations enriches all parties involved.
As the lyrics of Ghali’s song, Casa Mia, reminds all of us, “My home, your home, what difference is there? From the sky, it’s the same, I swear.”
Let’s heed this call to embrace our shared humanity and work towards a future where integration flourishes and diversity is celebrated.