As a foreigner, albeit with a longstanding and committed interest in things Maltese, I feel that maybe it's not my place to comment on the Maltese language question. But lately there has been a spate of thought-provoking articles and letters to the editor on the subject - they certainly provoked me....

When Jeremy and I first arrived in Malta 49 years ago, I was told by a seemingly educated acquaintance in Sliema not to bother with the Maltese language - "It's a kitchen language, underdeveloped, nobody speaks it" (Nobody who counts, he meant).

I was to find out for myself, later, that not only was Maltese spoken by real people, but that it is a nice language, with a reasonably logical grammar, fairly phonetic pronunciation, rich in racy expressions and nuances and with a not so small vocabulary (see Professor Aquilina's dictionaries!), open to further extension.

With independence, people began to take pride in their language, a new literature started to blossom and now, every time we return, I'm conscious of it being spoken more widely, almost exclusively on television and in most talk programmes on the more serious radio stations. Also we hear it more in the corridors at the University, where only 15 years ago you had definite klikek of English-speaking students versus Maltese speakers.

So why is it that there still seem to be some layers of Maltese society who consider Maltese somehow inferior? Parents who speak to each other in perfectly good Maltese turn to their children in often considerably less perfect English. Why? English might be the second official, by some called national, language (some seem to think it should be the first...), but surely Maltese is not only the national, but also the native language, with roots going far back, part of the Maltese identity.

Many friends tell me that it's a class thing, but why should it be considered more elegant to speak, and bring your children up in, the language of a foreign country at the other side of the continent, a language imposed by colonial masters during the, historically seen, brief period of 150 years?

It saddens me to hear mothers of children in some private and Church schools glorifying the fact that their children are taught almost exclusively in English (sometimes even Maltese as a subject, I've been told, although it's difficult to believe). Meanwhile, they are rubbishing their own language: "Such a bore, I can't be bothered, we send the kids to private lessons in Maltese". And let's face it, as the British presence fades into history, the English of these children is steadily losing some of its finer points of grammar and appropriateness, not to mention pronunciation.

At the same time the Maltese language, rather hurriedly crammed into them, doesn't have a chance to become perfect, either! Not much help are some Maltese-speaking parents, products of similar schools, who, if not exactly boasting, seem quite pleased to tell me that they can't really write Maltese correctly. I'd be ashamed to admit to being semi-literate in my own language!

I hear the argument that English is needed to be able to communicate with the outside world. Of course it is, as in most of the rest of the world! But not at the cost of your own unique language. The argument for maintaining this increasingly imperfect attempt at bi-lingualism is slightly back to front: My native Sweden, as well as adopted Holland, are both small countries with internationally totally useless languages. But we still use them. Babies grow up with their own language, so that at school age they speak it unthinkingly and correctly. Once in school, they then quite effortlessly and confidently learn how it works formally, learning rules of grammar, spelling and pronunciation.

With this basis of understanding how a language is built and works, they are subsequently able to learn a second, third and fourth language quite smoothly. By the time they reach the age when they need to communicate with other nationalities, they are able to do this quite well, and with practice acquire greater fluency.

It seems to me more child-friendly, and language-friendly, to teach children their own language well first. (And it is their own, how can you aspire to later become a lawyer, doctor or nurse without it, to name just a few situations?) Especially since Malta doesn't really provide a realistic setting for true bilingualism. I at times think I can speak Maltese, and muddle on, and then find it easiest to speak to children, I understand them and they seem to understand me. Their Maltese is clear and unaffected. Until suddenly these little ones are plonked down into one of the many schools where, their beaming parents assure me, all the teaching and speaking is done in English.

Now they are supposed to be working in a language, not their own, the spelling and grammar rules of which are difficult even for the more accomplished TEFL-students. Why is "tough" spelled like "dough", but pronounced differently? Why doesn't "though" sound like "through"? This while they haven't had the chance to learn to write, or understand the hows and whys of their own language properly. Suddenly English is their language, Maltese is taught, certainly, but with not enough practice. As I said, back to front. Just think, if you are taught Maltese thoroughly and have learnt to spell all the verb forms and place the "gh" where it belongs, learning other languages will be a piece of cake...

As for extending the vocabulary, most languages have loanwords, and with technological advances are acquiring more. What's wrong with that? Especially if they are spelled according to local phonetic laws, and incorporated into the language. This makes these words your own, and you don't mispronounce them. They might look odd when first introduced - the Swedish "websajt" might not look too brilliant, but any child can pronounce it, understand it and write it. I found it heartening to see both Professor Aquilina and Erin Serracino-Inglott list "kontejner" and "futbol". I even found "bagit" in Aquilina: I had thought that a recent invention of the present government.

Now for the provocations: In October a father from Mgarr complained that secondary school students can be refused entrance to University if they fail the entrance examination in Maltese. Too right they should be! Surely to study at University in your own country you must be expected to master your own language. This year supposedly the failure figure lay at just above 40 per cent. According to the letter-writer this was largely because Maltese literature is included in the examination.

Now I must admit that generations of secondary school children in most countries have found the history of their own literature largely a drag, especially the older works, but a drag they somehow had to get through. Again, can you really aspire to a University education without some knowledge of your country's literature through the ages? I presume the syllabus goes up to the present day. If Dun Karm is heavy going, what's wrong with, say, the two Friggieris or Emanuel Mifsud?

Another provocation I found in an interview with Professor Edward Scicluna in The Times. He, in some context, mentioned the Maltese fondness for hobz biz-zejt. A Maltese journalist, writing in a Maltese newspaper for Maltese readers (possibly not all Maltese, I admit, but still...) found it necessary to add, in brackets: "(tuna roll)". The bad translation aside, surely you'd have to be anglicised to a degree of paranoia not to know what hobz biz-zejt is. After all, it's even part of the tourist-package scene.

The worst provocation came from a seemingly slightly confused letter-writer, who paints an unintentionally hilarious picture of purist speakers of Maltese trying to do their shopping abroad, speaking only Maltese. I'm sure nobody ever suggested such a thing! I would certainly not expect to be able to do my shopping in Swedish in the Valletta market. (On the other hand, I know from experience that one of the adventurous thrills of being a tourist lies in picking up words of the local language and using them. After a fortnight's stay in Krakow we were actually able to buy unpronounceable vegetables in the street market, and what a great feeling of achievement that gave us! And some tourists do come to Malta for adventure, the countryside and local colour, not more golf courses.)

The confused letter-writer finds it a drawback that Maltese cannot be used much, except, as he puts it, "to talk to other Maltese at home and abroad". He must realise that this is the only conceivable use of a national language of a small country, and it is not a reason to discriminate against it. A lot of communication is an essential part of life every day within even the smallest nation, that's what one's language is for!

I have my personal Utopia: A Malta, full member of, and conversing with "the international community" (sorry for the tiresome buzzword). Using its own unique language fully, speaking, reading and writing it well, enjoying its own flourishing literature, educating its youth formally in (several) other languages, in order for them to have contact with the rest of the world. And of course, to please the tourists (isn't that motive always lurking in the background?)

And yes, one English-language newspaper for expatriates and tourists. Making Maltese the truly first language, used for instruction, public fora, etc. This would take time, obviously (how about adult education classes in writing your own language?) But since the language debate has raged through at least one generation, maybe another one might finally settle it. Am I unrealistic?

Let me close with a quotation from an enlightened letter-writer: "If we have two official languages, we only have one national language - Maltese."