Omar Rababah backlash exposes Malta’s racism fault line

The first time I met Omar Rababah was during a walk at Żonqor organised by the Ramblers Association in protest against the take-up of ODZ land for the proposed American University.

Over the years, he has been outspoken on human rights and social justice, often adopting positions more liberal than those of many self-proclaimed Christian politicians. While politics in a broad church party inevitably involves negotiation and compromise, Rababah’s candidacy offers a much-needed opportunity to inject his agenda into internal debate. Inevitably, he will also have to confront his party when it falls short of his principles.

That said, several observations arise:

1. Labour finally stands for something principled

Robert Abela’s invitation to Rababah signalled a willingness to risk votes in order to affirm a principle. It was an inclusive gesture, not just towards people from diverse cultural backgrounds, but also towards progressives who share Rababah’s values. Abela’s defence of Rababah was courageous, even if it leaned too heavily on asserting his “Malteseness”. The reality is simple: even if Rababah had two foreign parents, he should still be eligible to stand—especially in a progressive party. While this episode may have cost Labour votes, it has strengthened its brand among forward-looking voters, including some disillusioned PN supporters.

2. The PN’s silence was a moral failure

Unlike Momentum and ADPD, the PN did not feel compelled to condemn the racist backlash. This smacks of opportunism and a reluctance to alienate segments of its base. In doing so, it failed to send a clear signal to supporters to reject xenophobia. The party may have calculated that the controversy harms Labour, but it has also dented its own credibility as a modern, inclusive force.

3. Conspiracy theories about a ‘Muslim agenda’ collapse under scrutiny

Claims that Rababah’s candidacy is a ploy to capture a “Muslim vote”, or part of a broader attempt to impose religious values, are baseless. Rababah’s positions are explicitly progressive, not conservative. Moreover, Malta’s Muslim community is far from homogeneous—it spans different classes, genders, and cultural backgrounds. Muslim representation in national parliaments is normal across the EU, often aligned with parties that champion civil liberties and secularism. Fielding a candidate of Syrian heritage sends a message of inclusion—and Labour deserves credit for that.

4. The backlash was plainly racist

At its core lies the notion that Muslims—or “foreigners” more broadly—should be excluded from political office because they pose a threat. This logic is not only discriminatory; it is dangerously elastic. It can just as easily be turned against atheists, agnostics, Jews, Buddhists, or anyone deemed outside a narrow, exclusionary notion of Maltese identity.

5. Labour must also examine its record

The party bears part of the responsibility for the climate that enabled this backlash. A decade of weak inclusion policies and ambiguous messaging on migration—ranging from police imagery of handcuffed migrants to the deportation of long-term residents—has normalised suspicion and fear. Rababah is not an immigrant; he is a Maltese citizen who has lived his life here. Yet the scapegoating of migrants often feeds a broader cultural racism that affects citizens of foreign origin. This moment should be a wake-up call. The candidacies of figures like Rababah and Josef Bugeja—who has exposed the exploitation of migrant workers—offer Labour a chance to reset its approach.

The real test now is whether this episode remains a fleeting controversy, or becomes the catalyst for a more honest reckoning with what racism in Malta actually means.