10 Strange and Fascinating Truths About Maltese Society

10 Strange and Fascinating Truths About Maltese Society

The Maltese archipelago is a small dot in the middle of the Mediterranean, with a staggering historical density for a nation. Successively ruled by the Phoenicians, Romans, Arabs, Knights of St. John, French, and British, it is a palimpsest of influences, though it has forged a fiercely unique identity. Malta is sun, sea, and medieval architecture to the outside world, but beneath this surface lies a society of intricate customs, paradoxical behaviors, and a social life so intense it can only exist on a small island. Here are ten aspects of Maltese society that may seem strange to outsiders but are really at the core of understanding the soul of this island nation.

#### 1. The "Festas": A Village Civil War in Honor of a Saint

In most countries, a saint's feast day is a solemn or joyous communal event, but in Malta it's a friendly yet deeply serious village-wide competition bordering on civil war. Every town and village is divided into rival *parrocci* - parishes, each with its own patron saint. The annual *festa* represents the end of a year of fundraising and preparation. The strangeness lies in the intensity of the rivalry: every parish spends thousands on decoration, fireworks, and monumental statues of their saint. On the big day, the two factions march through "enemy" territory with their band clubs, playing their saint's march loudly and proudly. It is a competition for the most spectacular celebration, and the atmosphere is one of joyous, chaotic, and deeply-felt partisanship that defines local identity more than any national politics.

#### 2. A Nation of Licensed Hunters (and Bird Slayers)

Malta is home to one of the highest densities of hunters (*kaċċaturi*) per capita anywhere in Europe-a fact that creates a bizarre and often dark social schism. Despite small in number, the hunting lobby is incredibly powerful. For many Maltese men, hunting-essentially for turtle doves and quail during the short open season-is considered a sacrosanct tradition. The strangeness can be seen in the landscape: the countryside is littered with makeshift hunting hides (*għadajjar*), while the sound of gunshots is common during migration seasons. This pits them against environmentalists in direct, often violent conflict, along with the greater part of the population who would like to enjoy the countryside in peace. This is an ongoing "culture war" and a salient example of a deep-seated tradition in conflict with modern ecological and social values.

#### 3. The "Gallarija": The Enclosed Balcony as a National Symbol

Walk through any Maltese town and you are enveloped by a forest of colorful, enclosed wooden balconies known as *gallariji*. These are not just architectural features; they are a social technology. In a densely populated, traditionally Catholic society in which family honor and privacy are paramount, the *gallarija* allows people-especially women-to observe the teeming street life below while remaining unseen. They can listen to the conversations, watch the processions, and join in the social sphere from within the private, domestic sphere. It is the ultimate symbol of a society that is intensely communitarian yet fiercely protective of its private life.

#### 4. The National Language is a Punic-Arabic Hybrid Written in Latin Script

The Maltese language (*Malti*) is a perfect reflection of its nation's history-a linguistic anomaly, so to say. It is the only Semitic language in the world that is an official language of the European Union and is written in the Latin script. Its base is an Arabic Siculo-Arabic dialect from the 9th century, structurally and lexically closer to Arabic than to Italian. However, over 50% of its vocabulary comes from borrowings in Italian and English. This creates a strange, beautiful linguistic reality. A Maltese person might say "Il-Ġimgħa" (Friday, from Arabic al-jumu'ah), watching "televiżjoni" (television, from Italian), and then check their "scedwal" (schedule, from English). This unique fusion is a source of immense national pride.

#### 5. "Sound of the Islands" is Fireworks and Church Bells

The Maltese soundscape is dominated by two powerful forces: the Catholic Church and the pyrotechnic *festa* committees. Church bells do not merely chime on the hour; they clang with a frantic, urgent intensity for several minutes every Sunday morning to call the faithful to mass. This is often drowned out by the sound of fireworks. Maltese fireworks (*logħob tan-nar*) are not just for display; they are also petards—incredibly loud, single explosions known as *saperi* that are let off for weeks leading up to a *festa*, shaking windows and startling visitors. This constant auditory assault is, for the Maltese, the comforting sound of home and celebration.

#### 6. The "Carnival" of Political Clientelism Malta functions through a system of aggressive political clientelism-what locals might refer to as *"tagħna ukoll"* (ours too). The strangeness is in its normalization. It is presumed and taken as normal that any citizen could directly contact their member of parliament to have help with everything, from getting a job in the public sector to skipping a hospital waiting list or having a parking ticket fixed. The result is a society in which it is usually more important who you know *x'kuntatt għandek* rather than what you know. It is thus not only an ideological choice but also very practical when allegiance to the party in power comes with expected tangible rewards; this gives Malta a deeply entrenched and widely accepted system of patronage. #### 7. A Car Culture So Intense It Defies Geography Malta has one of the highest car ownership rates in the EU, with over 400,000 vehicles on a 27km-long island. The result is a strange and dysfunctional love affair with the automobile. Public transport is widely eschewed, while walking is considered unusual for anything but the shortest distances. The landscape is dominated by cars, with every available space used for parking-from picturesque alleys to historic squares. It's a supreme status symbol and simultaneously a necessary shield from the elements and from the social exposure of public life-a permanent, honking, gridlocked paradox on a tiny landmass. #### 8. The "Pastizzi" as a Social and Gastronomic Pillar The *pastizz* is more than a snack; it's a cultural institution. This flaky, savory pastry, typically filled with ricotta (*pastizzi tal-irkotta*) or mushy peas (*pastizzi tal-piżelli*), is the undisputed king of Maltese fast food. The strangeness lies in the rituals surrounding it. *Pastizzeriji* are often hole-in-the-wall establishments open at all hours, functioning as informal social clubs. It is perfectly normal to see a well-dressed businessman, a group of teenagers, and an elderly farmer all standing together at 3 a.m., silently eating hot *pastizzi* straight from the paper bag. It is the great social equalizer and the ultimate comfort food. #### 9. The "Knight of the Road" Phenomenon In a country whose heroic history is linked to the Knights of St. John, an ironic modern version has come into being: the "Knight of the Road." The term describes a particular kind of aggressive, chivalrous-yet-belligerent male driver. He will stop his car in the middle of a busy road to let an elderly lady cross, holding up traffic with a noble wave. Yet, if another driver dares to beep in protest, the "Knight" will turn, leaning out of his window to deliver a torrent of colorful Maltese insults. This bizarre duality-extreme courtesy mixed with sudden, volcanic rage-is a common feature of daily interactions. #### 10. A Nation in Love with Its Own Baby Talk The Maltese are very fond of diminutives and words of baby talk, using them a great deal in everyday speech-even among adults. Words are softened and shortened: *tiekol* becomes *tiela*, *qattus* becomes *qattus żgħir* or just *pušux*. This linguistic tic extends to place names and terms of endearment. It reveals a society which, though roughly spoken and loud in its public debate, has at its heart a soft, familial, and deeply intimate core, one in which a certain childish sweetness is preserved and celebrated in the way people talk to one another. These ten points put forth the idea that Maltese society is a world of extreme contrasts: it is a place where village rivalry is a form of worship, a Semitic language is written in a European script, and where the sound of explosions signifies joy. The "strangeness" is the logical product of a small, isolated community absorbing centuries of foreign influence and compressing it into a uniquely vibrant, chaotic, fiercely proud national identity. Understanding Malta means appreciating how the smallness of size is inversely proportional to the great character and complexity of its social world.