Identitarianism is not a constitutional argument

Mariana Debono’s article, ‘Who killed political debate? Omar Rahabah’s case’ (May 10), positions itself as a defence of open disagreement. In reality, it advances a vision of ‘Maltese identity’ that sits uneasily with the tolerance it claims to defend.

Article 2 of the Maltese constitution is at the centre of this argument. The implication is clear, Malta’s constitutional recognition of Catholicism not only legitimises resistance to proposals such as Qur’anic teaching in state schools but makes it appear almost self-evident!

This implication does not stand scrutiny.

Article 2 is not a single, coherent mandate but a composite provision. Sub-article (1), which is not entrenched, is declaratory. It is the recognition of a statement of fact i.e. that the Roman Catholic apostolic religion is professed by the majority.

This sub-article does not, however, prescribe policy, and this is not a matter of interpretation but of established case law. In ‘Ben Hassin Ali Wahid v. L-Onor. Prim Ministru’, for example, the court makes clear that the constitution is not founded on Catholicism, but on democracy, work and respect for fundamental human rights (as per Article 1).

Sub-article (3), by contrast, provides for Catholic instruction in state schools. It is the only part of Article 2 that has direct operational effect (through the Education Act). Yet even here, the system itself acknowledges pluralism. The existence of an Ethics Education Programme for non-Catholics is not a concession; it is a recognition that Malta is not religiously uniform. Remove that balance, and the system becomes discriminatory.

What, then, is the constitutional mechanism by which these provisions, one declaratory and the other limited in scope, translate into a right to oppose the introduction of Qur’anic teaching in state schools? That omission is not incidental. It allows a recognition of identity to be quietly converted into a justification for exclusion.

The issue is not whether Malta has a Catholic identity. It is whether that identity is being used as a shield for argument, or as a substitute for it

This is the central weakness in Debono’s argument. It collapses the distinction between describing a majority reality and prescribing how the state should treat minorities. The two are not the same, and treating them as such is not constitutional reasoning, it is assertion.

Nor can Article 2 be read in isolation. It sits alongside Article 40, which guarantees freedom of conscience and worship, and within a constitutional order shaped by the European Convention on Human Rights. The jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights (e.g. ‘Young, James and Webster v. the United Kingdom, Chassagnou and Others v. France, and Şahin v. Turkey’) is unambiguous: democracy does not mean the automatic primacy of majority views, but the fair and proper treatment of minorities and the prevention of abuses of dominant positions.

To invoke the constitution while ignoring these limits is not a defence of constitutional identity, it is a selective reading of it.

There is also a more fundamental problem. Invoking Catholicism as a marker of national identity transforms it from purely a faith to a cultural and political symbol and in doing so, it defines belonging through exclusion.

This concern is not new. In Fratelli tutti, Pope Francis warns explicitly against the instrumentalisation of culture and religion for exclusionary ends. A faith that becomes a boundary between ‘us’ and ‘them’ risks being emptied of its universal meaning.

Let us, by all means, debate, disagree and contradict one another on a hundred and one issues. This is the essence of a healthy democracy. But it cannot be invoked to justify limiting the ability of minorities to teach their religion to their children within the framework of state education.

The issue is not whether Malta has a Catholic identity. It is whether that identity is being used as a shield for argument, or as a substitute for it.

A democracy worthy of the name does not fear disagreement. But neither does it confuse the defence of identity with the exclusion of others.

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Mark M. Scerri is a senior lecturer.