That the semitic element of the Maltese language is somehow more Maltese than its romance counterpart is a cherished superstition – one recently iterated by the president of the republic, George Vella, during the launch of a new campaign issued by his office and seven Maltese language organisations titled L-Ilsien Malti għal Qalbi (the Maltese language at heart).
Vella’s speech was aimed chiefly at urging the Maltese to be better custodians of their Siculo-Arabic tongue, claiming they shouldn’t use such words as informazzjoni, vettura and assistenza when words like tagħrif, karozza and għajnuna are available. The reason for this is that he fears the Semitic elements of our language may be withering away through underuse.
The difference between the two sets of words is largely a question of etymology: informazzjoni is an Indo-European word of romance origin while tagħrif is a semitic word coming from Arabic.
While the lexical richness of languages like English is often celebrated and admired, the same phenomenon in Maltese seems to be a source of anxiety. The result is the occasional drive to ‘preserve’ the more archaic elements of our language lest Maltese were to fracture irreparably were they to disappear.
The trouble with this line of thinking is that it puts forward an erroneous impression about language concerning a hierarchy of purity that pits one set of words against another. It creates needless antagonism which, rather than evidencing the richness and history of our language, gives fodder to pedants to prescribe which version of Maltese is more fitting and ‘correct’.
What results is a kind of dogmatisation of words when either option, whether Romance or Semitic, is perfectly legitimate.
The president’s efforts at preserving the Semitic element in our language may give the impression that some words are more Maltese than others. This belies undertones of historical insecurity about our native tongue. Maltese, however, is no longer the language of the paupers or il-lingwa tal-kċina and this latest initiative has only succeeded in creating false perceptions about its vitality.
Many new establishments sprouting across the island, whether eateries, furniture showrooms or detergent shops, are happy to name themselves in Maltese, knowing such a move will be well-received. Social media sites like Kelma Kelma and Il-Miklem are welcomed openhandedly and the past decade has seen exponential growth in music with Maltese lyrics in all genres. It also seems to have become rather fitting to give recent newborns typical Maltese names, not to mention that Maltese is the clear preferred language of the majority on the island.
Our language is not dying and does not need this manner of intervention.
Rather than wage yet another senseless war on words, let us instead pay more attention to the real issues assailing our language, most notably the unfortunate state of orthographic ability among the population.
Despite the availability of Maltese fonts, many are not primed to make use of them. We are rarely called to write anything in Maltese except a line of text in a chat or on social media posts but, even then, many of us are confused as to where the għ and h ought to go and have no recourse to decent spellcheckers. Add to that poor sentence structure and we have what may be one of our education system’s gravest failings.
An education system that instils linguistic competence in its students will create a population that can go from strength to strength. Spreading paranoia about the possibility of Semitic words evaporating from our language serves no purpose.