My relationship with Malta goes much deeper than the professional level and the honour of having served twice as ambassador of my beloved country, Libya, to Malta. I have known Malta since the early 1980s and I was a frequent visitor of the island as a young man.
I remember vividly the colourful old buses and the grumbling drivers easily provoked, trying to explain impatiently to a bewildered tourist that he or she was on the wrong bus. I enjoyed pulling the string to signal my intention to get off at the next bus stop and explaining to old British tourists that this was in fact the right way to ring the bell.
Riding those old buses was also instructive as my first encounter with Latin was on a Maltese bus. The phrase ‘Verbum Dei Caro Factum Est’ which was on the top front of the bus from the driver’s seat captured my eye. I realised it was Latin but had no clue of the meaning.
It was later the subject of lengthy discussions, as I developed a rudimentary knowledge of Latin, with my late friend, Oliver Friggieri and other colleagues during the years I spent as a lecturer of Arabic at the University of Malta, particularly with reference to the nature of Jesus Christ as described in the holy Quran. I was also honoured to join Oliver in reciting my Arabic renderings of his poems. I hope the manuscript of my translation will be published soon.
The period from 1995 to 1999 was one of the most formative years in developing my Maltese experience. Teaching at the University of Malta brought me in contact with fine intellectuals and academics. My workload was not heavy, so I had plenty of time to wander freely around the island.
I would drive towards Mdina and bask myself in the splendour of history and silence, finding no relics of those who gave it its name except for their language that stood the test of time. In Mdina, I always felt a transformation in time as I listened to the resonating tunes all over the silent city sent by the chimes of the cathedral bells. I wrote a poem entitled Ode to Mdina, the first two opening lines of which read as follows:
“History stood perfectly still
“As I beheld thee perched upon the hill.”
Leaving Mdina behind me, I would walk towards Rabat, inhaling the fragrance of the pine trees. Rabat has a certain charm, which I still enjoy even now. I was (and still am) intrigued by its little cafes, restaurants, meandering streets, old houses with balconies adorned by flowers, walls covered by beautiful climbing plants with a festival of colours, alleys (sqaq) that lead to nowhere, old people enjoying the sun in the town square, the pigeons fluttering in the church yard, the lazy cats having endless siestas and the dancing rays of sun mingling with shadows waiting for a passing Picasso to capture in painting.
The charm of Valletta has also always captivated me.
It is an architectural jewel with infinite richness. The Knights of St John left their indelible mark on the city. The palaces, balconies, doors, churches, steeping narrow streets, old ladies chatting in front of their houses, clothes lines, the splendour of Cordina and other cafes and restaurants all over the capital, the seat of power in Castille and so many other gems that adorn the city blend into a unique fabric hardly matched anywhere else.
Will Malta gradually lose its charm and idyllic beauty to become another Dubai? A concrete jungle? An urban maze without a soul?- Saadun Suayeh
I can go on talking about my Maltese experience and infinite joy when I go walking around whatever is left of a pristine countryside in Malta and Gozo, especially when it springs to life with autumn rain after the dry, long summers. I can write volumes on my fascination with the Maltese language with a legacy of pride, in my opinion, from its ancestral Arabic.
The phonology, morphology, syntax and semantics of Maltese provide a very rich material for the linguist and one can only marvel at the ability of the Maltese language to evolve and develop.
In an interview with the late Joseph Aquilina, published in The Sunday Times of Malta on March 3, 1996, I spoke at length with the renowned scholar of Maltese about comparative aspects of Arabic and Maltese. We were both of the opinion that scholarship in Arabic was most essential for the study of Maltese itself. In this respect, I also highly commend the work of Martin Zammit, whose translation of the Quran into Maltese is truly a masterpiece.
As I now have the honour to serve again as an ambassador of my country to Malta, I am glad to say that, over the last four years of my tenure, I have seen the relations between the two friendly countries flourish and grow stronger despite the hardships endured by Libya as it painfully searches for democracy and stability.
Nonetheless, on a personal level, I must say I have mixed feelings about the current rate of development witnessed by the island. On the one hand, I am happy to see the remarkable improvement in Malta’s infrastructure but, on the other hand, as I see cranes everywhere and high-rise buildings being erected, dwarfing their surroundings and creating an incongruous landscape, I feel a certain sadness and apprehension.
I ask myself and some of my friends: What is going to happen in a decade from now? Will Malta gradually lose its charm and idyllic beauty to become another Dubai? A concrete jungle? An urban maze without a soul?
It is, of course, only Malta itself that can decide its future and destiny. As for me, now in my mid-70s, I say to myself, watching the beauty of sunsets and the blue wilderness of the Mediterranean, the Malta that I cherish will always remain engraved in my heart.
Saadun Suayeh is the Ambassador of Libya to Malta.