Maltese Migration in Tunisian Coastal Towns (1836-1844)
by Arnold Cassola, published by Morrone Editore, 2020
Migration is a hot topic these days, but individuals and communities have criss-crossed the Mediterranean since time immemorial. Malta’s disproportionate ratio between population and territory resulted from waves of immigrants over time, but it became a point of departure in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
Arnold Cassola has been delving into social and demographic relations between Malta and Sicily, tracing Maltese immigrants in Trapani, Pachino, Siracusa, Vittoria and Scoglitti, spotlighting sporadic periods from 1419 to 1846. In this book, he looks towards the West coast of North Africa.
Tunisia was one of the early destinations of mass migration from Malta and here Cassola delves into its beginnings (1836-1844). Not surprisingly, Maltese migrants preferred settling in the coastal towns: Sousse, Monastir, Mahdia, Sfax, Djerba and Moknine, finding solace in the same sea which washed the shores of their homeland.
In the early decades of British rule, the economic situation was not prosperous, forcing thousands of Maltese to seek a better life across the sea. The difference between migration to Sicily and to Tunisia is that the former attracted individuals whereas the latter took in whole groups. Tunisia was not an affluent country, but it offered better opportunities for the lower classes.
Most of the Maltese settlers were farmers or fishermen who continued to exercise their occupation. In 1840, 114 Maltese started the cultivation of potatoes in Porto Farina, and twenty years later, about seven thousand Maltese were living in Tunis. Most were illiterate and uncouth, disliked by the locals who described the women as dirty and dishevelled; the children dressed in rags and barefooted begged for money; while the men were quarrelsome, drank heavily and robbed food items.
Tunisia was not an affluent country, but it offered better opportunities for the lower classes
This bad reputation recalls Maltese immigrants in Gibraltar. H.W. Howes (The Gibraltarian, 1951) wrote that in 1900, there were over 500, bearing 144 different surnames from Aquilina to Xichluna, occupied mainly as coal-heavers and labourers.
Howes quotes a Memorial submitted to the governor in 1876, alleging that “with some honourable exceptions, only the scum of that people betakes themselves hither”, adding that public opinion attributes the majority of the robberies to them, and saying that they lived in caves and were “filthy in their dwellings, in their dress and in their food”.
Although Howes considers this report biased, it does reflect the unfavourable social conditions existing in parts of Malta and Gozo throughout the 19th century regarding education and hygiene. These unfortunate emigrants took their way of life with them and found it difficult to better their lot.
In Tunisia, conditions were better because although most of the Maltese worked as goat and pig breeders, fishermen, seamen, coachmen and craftsmen, some played a role in commercial activities, and a few were active in municipal councils. About 500 bought properties, while others opened coffee shops, bakeries and other businesses.
Life improved when Tunisia became a French protectorate, and the influx from France and Southern Italy helped the Maltese to integrate in an international European community. The common factor was the Catholic religion because parishes were founded, providing the Maltese with the social centre they frequented back home.
The parish registers furnish Cassola with the numbers, names and surnames of our compatriots, including Maltese priests, baptised babies, married couples, godparents and witnesses.
Mixed marriages, mainly with Sicilians and occasionally with French, Spanish or Tunisian Catholics, reveal a friendly international atmosphere, as depicted in a play by Edmond Martin, Les sabirs de Kaddour ben Nitram, 1931, which humorously sketches code-mixing by typical characters: a Sicilian, a Neapolitan, a Corsican, a Hebrew and, of course, the Maltese settler called Djouss.
Cassola dwells on social aspects like occupation; fertility rate; widows and widowers; illegitimate children; infant, child and adult mortality; and national identity. He remarks that the first immigrants married compatriots, but later generations mixed and shifted towards French culture and nationality. In the 1920s, the Maltese community in Tunisia consisted of about 13,500 individuals and no less than 5,381 became French citizens.
Maltese boys and girls attended Catholic schools run by French monks and the Sisters of St Joseph, acquiring fluency in French. In fact, when some families returned to Malta, they spoke French among themselves, and hundreds of Maltese migrated to France from Tunisia and Algeria after the Second World War, sprinkling telephone directories and shop signs in French towns with Maltese surnames.
The transcription of entries concerning Maltese immigrants in birth, marriage and death registers of parishes in Susa between 1836 and 1873 provide onomastic evidence on Christian names and Maltese surnames. Some of these are barely recognisable, being unfamiliar to the priest or clerk.
Some are not found in Malta: Agnarelli, Baile, Chamliti, Clarinquet, Condorado, Crinquant, and so on to Zincara. Others disclose the dialectal pronunciation of the illiterate persons concerned: Abele, Aicolina, Cacaja, Depatista, Michellef, Sait.
Common Maltese surnames, like Camilleri, Farrugia and Mifsud, are also written in multiple spellings: Camillieri, Cammillieri, Camillari, Cammelieri, Cammellieri; Farrugia appears also as Farugia, Faruggia, Farruggia, Ferugia, Ferrugia, Ferruggia and Ferrugga; Mifsud is also spelt as Mefsud, Misoud, Messut, Mistrud and Migfrud.
Well, identity cards were inexistent, and some names were jotted down by the celebrant and copied by a clerk who could not read the original clearly.