Mixed signals

The language question in Malta is a source of continuous ongoing debate and often leads to irritation, exasperation and mutual antagonism on both sides.

It is high time we all left our hang-ups about language behind us and just accept the fact that there are many sub-cultures in Malta and no amount of arguing is going to change that.
It is high time we all left our hang-ups about language behind us and just accept the fact that there are many sub-cultures in Malta and no amount of arguing is going to change that.

This is not an attempt to unravel who is right or wrong, or to simply state the obvious by explaining where all this originated from, because it has all been written before, countless times.

But it has occurred to me that the reason we can never get to a mutual understanding of what it means to be exclusively English or Maltese speaking (rather than comfortably and self-assuredly bi-lingual) is because there is so much subtext going on.

There are still many people who have serious issues if they are “expected” to converse in one language or the other, and who positively bristle at the suggestion that they should change the way they speak.

But it goes even further than that when the language one is speaking is seen as a personal affront, with the possibility of it leading to an outbreak of outright hostility.

Let us take the exclusively Maltese-speaking person (for brevity I will call him ‘M’) who has been brought up in an environment where everyone is the same as him. Naturally, he is the most at ease when he is in surroundings where he can be “himself” and this means feeling free to express himself in his native tongue.

But no one here can reasonably be expected to simply stick to places where English is never spoken, so one fine day when he is not within his comfort zone it is very likely that he will come across a fellow Maltese who happens to speak exclusively in English.

Similarly an English speaker (‘E’) communicates freely and effortlessly in his own environment, but can often find himself in situations in which his woeful inability to speak Maltese fluently immediately sets him apart.

It is a collision of cultures which has everyone digging their heels in, in their respective trenches. It sometimes results in awkward scenes especially when people insist on shoring up on barriers and roadblocks that get in the way of communication without the slightest attempt to empathise with where the other person is coming from.

For if your first language in which you feel the most fluent happens to be either Maltese or English, what business is that of anyone else? Why can’t we just let each other be instead of trying to dictate and impose our own views, practically shoving them down others’ throats?

The reason is that most of it has to do not with the language itself, but with the signals loaded with meaning which the language conveys. If English is spoken (especially if it is with a haughty accent and overbearing body language) then inevitably ‘M’ will squirm with what he is perceiving to be a personal challenge to his social standing.  

‘E’ may say something as innocuous as “Hi, how are you?” but it will be drowned out because the only loud message ‘M’ thinks he hears is “I speak English, I am better than you.”  

(As I said these are just perceptions not reality, although to be honest, I have come across cases of such exaggerated affectation by a few English-speaking Maltese who talk in a booming voice, that I just look on in fascinated amazement, wondering if they genuinely speak like that or if it’s some kind of joke. Think pompous British major posted somewhere in the colonies when England was still an Empire and you will get my drift.)   

Meanwhile ‘E’ hears ‘M’ speak and the information is registered immediately: “this person is not like me.”   

And yes, of course, there are still people around who sneer and break into an involuntary smirk at the sound of wrongly pronounced vowels in English.  So I can hardly blame ‘M’ if he dares not speak English for fear of being mocked.

Conversely, if ‘E’ attempts to string together a sentence in halting Maltese he is labelled by that rubber stamp known as “tal-pepe” and spoken to rudely and derisively for not knowing his own native tongue.

For, let it be known, that for all his loathing of snobbery, ‘M’, too, can suffer from his own brand of inverted snobbery, perceiving the inability of someone to speak Maltese as the ultimate social signifier and using it as a way of intimidating ‘E’.  (The unspoken message is, “just who do you think you are?”)

It becomes even more banal when ‘M’ staunchly refuses to speak English even in situations where English is a must. I recently heard of a case where a bus driver flatly would not communicate with a tourist and expected him to speak Maltese, which is so ludicrous it doesn’t even bear consideration.

If a driver refuses to speak English then he obviously should not be driving a bus in a country whose main industry is tourism. I also do not see the point of shunning the English language because of a misplaced sense of nationalism (“We’re Maltese, we should speak our language”). Since when does the ability to speak a second language rob you of your identity? That must be a very flimsy identity you have there.

It’s also pretty pathetic to see the rancour over which language should be used on Facebook, when some Maltese language patriots cannot even write it properly and massacre it beyond recognition.

I think it is high time we all left our hang-ups about language behind us and just accept the fact that there are many sub-cultures in Malta and no amount of arguing is going to change that. Personally I think it is only good manners to speak to someone in the language in which he is more comfortable, or at the very least not make a big deal if he prefers to speak one language instead of another.

After all, the ability and intelligence to be polite to others is the essence of a civilized society and is the same, in any language.