The richness of the Maltese language

Nearly all nations identify and determine at least one language as the national language, and some, like Malta, include another as the official language. This is necessary for the obvious reason that a common language would create solidarity and instill a sense of national identity and pride. However, in the pursuit of attaining competence in the languages of ‘commodity’ and ‘enterprise’, many national languages and even cultures are sometimes sacrificed.

A 2012 study by the University of Manchester on the use of languages in Europe had already shown that Icelandic, Latvian, Lithuanian, and Maltese were at the highest risk of disappearing, while other languages such as Bulgarian, Greek, Hungarian, and Polish were also at risk at the time.

Our mother tongue is on the brink of dying out. There are a number of causes leading to this language crisis. The mass popularity of the English language is one sure reason.

The ease with which one can write in English has made it comfortable enough for many to use it instead of Maltese, which, admittedly, is harder to put on paper. Other influences, such as foreigners outnumbering Maltese in certain areas, business deals, American films, the international media, and social media platforms, have all contributed to this sorry state of affairs.

While Maltese literature is doing very well and publications are relatively strong, the everyday use of the language in the digital world is minimal, and there is little hope this will be reversed.

Conservation is not just for the environment. Many languages on earth face extinction, and there are legitimate reasons to be concerned with their preservation, not least Maltese.

At the moment, I deem the status of our national language as fluctuating from vulnerable, where most children speak it but it is restricted to certain domains (e.g., home), to severely endangered, that is to say, the language is spoken by grandparents and older generations, and while the parent generation may understand it, they do not speak it to children or among themselves.

In between, there are pockets on our islands where it is definitely endangered as children no longer learn the language as a ‘mother tongue’ in the home, whereas in others it is critically endangered as the youngest speakers are grandparents and older, and they speak the language partially and infrequently.

The Maltese language, consequently, risks moving on to ‘extinct’ status. Another well-founded factor may well be years of schooling, showing that Maltese language endangerment increases as children move through the education system. Figures for the year 2021, for example, show that 17% of students who sat for a SEC Maltese language exam only managed to obtain a ‘U’ grade.

It could be that there is evidence that formal education can contribute to the loss of language diversity, and one must highlight the importance of offering bilingual courses to offset the dominance of the main languages taught.

Mothers, the primary supporters of education in most families, take pains to raise their children in the ‘school’ language rather than their own native tongue. This is to ensure that their children will have a head start as they enter primary school or even pre-school. Simply continuing the status quo in education with the almost exclusive use of languages like English will exclusively serve the interests of the former imperialist powers and perpetuate post-colonial political and cultural dominance.

Language creates reality. When a language dies out, part of its culture dies out too. Language is the cultural glue that binds communities together. Language loss is a loss of community heritage, from histories and ancestral lineages known only through oral storytelling to knowledge of plants and practices codified through unwritten and untranslated words. We must worry that the upcoming generations may easily forget important cultural practices as our language dies out. As people forget the dozens of terms that describe methods of trapping, cooking, and other customs, they will forget these important cultural practices. Also at risk are the phrases and associated customs for welcoming the agricultural seasons and other folklore practices endemic to us.

We spend huge amounts of money protecting species and biodiversity, so why should it be that the one thing that makes us singularly human should not be similarly nourished and protected? Around the world, some organisations are stepping in with technology such as artificial intelligence to help preserve vulnerable languages. Nigeria has adopted OBTranslate to help translate over 2,000 African languages while preserving them for posterity. Australia is using Opie, a robot built on the open-source AI platform TensorFlow, to teach children indigenous languages through games and stories. In New Zealand, a Facebook chatbot called Reobot has been developed to help kids learn Maori.

We must be aware that if we continue talking among ourselves in a language that we simply understand, be it English or another European language, that will simply go to our heads. Yet if, on the other hand, we start talking among ourselves in our language, that will easily start going to our hearts.