Sometimes I wonder if I inhabit the same island as many of my neighbours. 

There appear to be at least four Gozos. 

One is apparently charming: a tranquil, idyllic, gentle, relaxing, and ecologically unique jewel in Malta’s crown.  This is the Gozo of MTA advertising (especially abroad), an island of empty beaches, stunning architecture, historical treasures, and deep culture.  An island steeped in the mists and myths of time. 

The second Gozo is apparently a madhouse: one inhabited by a society of uniquely greedy and grasping people intent on wrecking the island for their own immediate gratification.  An island occupied by people who care not a fig or a toss for its environment, history, and culture and who measure everything in grubby handfuls of cash.  An island on a mission to destruction.

The third, we might call secret Gozo where real power and control are to be found - the Gozo of macho builders and politicians who secretly (yet in full public view) carve up and steal whole swathes of the island and who trade in lies and public relations humbug.

The fourth Gozo is for me the real, live, existing Gozo inhabited by real flesh and blood people who are simultaneously both victims and beneficiaries of what is laughingly described as ‘development’. 

For me, Gozo exhibits the very best in humanity alongside the very worst.  It is no different than many other similarly situated places worldwide.

This reality is illustrated by the viewpoints of two neighbours.  One describes living in Gozo currently as living in ‘hell’ while the other describes any criticism of what is happening as a media ‘invention’.  

The former lives directly beside a mega construction of thirty flats (with a mirror development set to commence later in the year).  The latter is directly involved in publicly acknowledged illegal construction activity.

These very different Gozos were highlighted once again in the animated responses and ‘discussions’ that followed the publication of an article by Fr Charles Cini in this paper on June 26 decrying the destruction of Gozo by ‘dirty people’.   

I share much of Fr Cini’s viewpoint but feel we could have a revealing debate on the appropriateness of the word ‘dirty’ – it is both too general and too soft.  The ‘real’ Gozo is in deep trouble, only fools and liars, developers and government ministers would assert otherwise. 

The ‘real’ Gozo is in deep trouble, only fools and liars, developers and government ministers would assert otherwise

What is for me very important in the discussion is how we frame and understand that ‘deep trouble’, its underlying causes, who is driving the agenda and who has ultimate responsibility and what options residents have in response. 

To assert, as was often the case in response to Cini’s article the Gozitans simply do not care about what is happening is wholly and completely inaccurate.  Not only is it utter tosh, but it is also deliberately insulting and dishonest. 

At lunchtime or in the evening in any square or bar or around any dinner table what is happening locally and across the island is invariably a hot topic of debate and disagreement.  Generally, it is the opposite of not giving a fig or a toss for what is underway.

For many in the debate, Gozo is presented as an island populated by cartoon characters, pantomime cut-outs of ‘basic’, ‘unthinking’, ‘uncaring’, ‘primitive’, ‘cunning’ and ‘money adoring’ individuals and communities who have neither the brains nor the interest in anything beyond their pockets. 

It is as if what is occurring in Gozo is the fault of some innate character flaw in Gozitans.  Mere puppets in the hands of the powerful.

Fr Cini’s heart-felt piece sparked an intense debate much of which verged on or strayed into the abusive, arrogant, ill-informed, and frankly ignorant.  As is so often the case in responsive commentary on Maltese social media.

It also reduced the complexity and intricacy of what is going on in Gozo and instead opted for lazy cliché and innuendo.

In my admittedly limited experience (as an ‘outsider’) the dominant feeling amongst those I engage with is one of powerlessness (tinged with considerable caution and even fear).  There is a dominant sense that there is little an ordinary Gozitan can do when faced with the bullying and threats of the economically and politically powerful. 

This is further compounded by the knowledge that government is a core part of the problem rather than the solution.

But rather than confronting the ‘real’ Gozo with its complexities, contradictions, and its culture, many prefer instead to trade in easy stereotypes.