Saturday, March 06, 2004

Is Malta that different?

A few weeks ago I was interviewed by a journalist from the French magazine L'Express, who is currently conducting a series of interviews with writers hailing from the new EU member states. Among the many subjects we spoke about, the journalist was particularly interested in the Mediterranean character of the Maltese islands.

The Mediterranean paradigm seems to be attracting not only journalists but also other interested people who are eyeing closely the smallest member state of the EU after 1 May 2004. For me this paradigm is rather confusing, in that it expects a Mediterranean country to be very different, very distinct, from the rest of the European countries lying elsewhere along the continent.

What the differences are or should be I honestly do not know. And the more time passes the less clear this distinction gets.

There are various cliches about Mediterranean countries. Some say they are so colourful ... whatever that might mean. Others say that the Mediterranean is a region bubbling with passion and emotion. Others see it as a troublesome region since it is the melting pot of three main monotheistic religions. And others still feel there is a lot of magic around the Mediterranean, given the very ancient civilisations which originated from it.

However true all this is, one cannot be so categoric. Colour can be seen in every part of the world, even in the drabbest snowy parts of the continent. Passion is, in my view, a basic human characateristic which may manifest itself in different ways but is always there. And, if the Mediterranean is the melting pot of three monotheistic religions, which it is, other parts of Europe are the melting pot of other religions. Talking about religion, one cannot but think of Bosnia Herzegovina for instance where two branches of Christianity and Islam also intersect and interact.

Travelling through Slovakia earlier on this year, I could not help noting how 'insular' the Slovak way of life is, despite the country not having one drop of sea around. Spending a couple of Saturday evenings in local village bars an hour away from Bratislava, I could also notice the jolly, festive and colourful character of the locals. The same things I noticed when I was in Sarajevo, and also in the Polish village of Kazimiers Dolny.

Yet, if one were to go microscopic in the analysis, then size would make a difference. Malta is tiny, so tiny that you can see the edge from almost any part of the island. And this has a very evident effect on one's perception of distance. Of course, distance, like so many other things in life, is relative. A one hour drive from the South of Malta to the northernmost point feels much much longer than a one hour trip by rail from one city to another in mainland Europe.

Distance must have an effect on the people's psyche. I have no doubt about that. The smaller the size the less one gets worried about time, for example. While many would regard the Maltese laid-back character as a sort of laziness or, worse, indiscipline, I think that this particularity is wholly related to size/distance. There is hardly any problem of getting late, so why should one worry after all?

All countries are different, fair enough. And the wider the comparison, the more pronounced the differences get. Comparing Malta say to Finland, is bound to illustrate my point. Comparing Malta to Italy, the differences become blurred and next to minimal.

And hence the difference between difference and distinction. Trying to put the Mediterranean region in a distinct class of its own, is, in my view, a mistake which calls to be remedied.