The Maltese falcon

When in 1530 Charles V as king of Sicily ceded the most far-flung and vulnerable of his dominions to the defeated and homeless Order of St John as a fief, all he asked for was a falcon to be presented to his viceroy in Palermo every year. The Maltese falcon became the subject of legend. Some say that the falcon was made of gold encrusted with precious stones; others say that the art of venery was so popular and advanced that a bird trained in Malta was worth its weight in gold.

I doubt whether in the 16th century the yearly migration of raptors flying over Malta since time immemorial was ever threatened with near extinction as it is today when there are, we are told, well on to 20,000 guns poised to shoot at the slightest ruffle of feathers and beat of wings whether they belong to the humble sparrow, a black eagle, the Archangel Gabriel, a honey buzzard, Cupid, a spoonbill, a budgerigar or Pegasus!

The FKNK, now enjoying their long-awaited open season after having been deprived of spring hunting, have accused Birdlife of foreign interference as they did last year. Birdlife members from other countries come to Malta specifically to observe these magnificent protected birds fly over us and rest before continuing their migration!

I will remind the FKNK that I personally witnessed the massacre of two kestrels and a honey buzzard at Salib ta' l-Għolja in September last year. I, a true blue Maltese, was peacefully painting with 17 other fellow artists, all Maltese too. The deadly barrage was something I will never forget. When the FKNK had the gall to accuse the birdwatchers, who happened to be at Salib ta' l-Għolja too, of foreign interference I was livid. Declaring that foreigners are depriving Maltese hunters of their "delizju" (hobby) is completely out of line. What about us? What about you, dear reader? Can we not go for a peaceful walk in the country without being harassed by hunters and trappers? Is not the peaceful enjoyment of the countryside our basic right as citizens of this country or are some more equal than others?

I, for one, am delighted that the ornithologists and enthusiasts organise raptor camps and observation exercises for both Maltese and guests from overseas. That means that these observers will possibly act as a deterrent to some hunter who is tempted to flout the law and have a taxidermised falcon poised for flight forever frozenly displayed on his television set. The online poll as to whether the presence of foreigners to monitor bird hunting in Malta constitutes foreign interference stands as follows (at the time of writing): 61.3 per cent say no it does not constitute foreign interference while 32.8 per cent say it does and five per cent don't care, while 0.9 per cent don't know.

We have just commemorated the withdrawal of the Turkish armada on September 8, 1565. The Great Siege was a very close-run thing and Malta was victorious simply because supply lines from the Sublime Porte were too tenuous and Malta could not sustain a colossal army indefinitely.

I have just read a rollicking novel, written in the best Hornblower tradition, called Blood Rock by James Jackson. In it, the hero of the great siege is not poor Grandmaster La Valette who was being slowly poisoned by a couple of traitorous French Grand Crosses. Nor was it his nephew Henri or the many, many knights and Maltese who lost their lives defending Malta and Christendom but an English mercenary called Christian Hardy, who, aided by a Maltese adolescent named Luqa (possibly Briffa?) and inspired by the improbable love of a Maltese noblewoman named Maria, whose surname and pedigree remain oddly undiscussed, was the swashbuckling mastermind of each and every stratagem that outwitted and in the end defeated the Turk.

If you believe that you will believe anything. It does, however, make a good story to while away a couple of hours stuck in an airport. What I found profoundly moving was the account of the defence of Fort St Elmo, wall by wall, rock by rock, till nothing was left of it but a heap of stones.

I was reminded of my schooldays studying Mgr S. Laspina's Outlines Of Maltese History wherein an illustration of the disemboweled and headless corpses of the defenders of St Elmo floated across the Grand Harbour nailed to crosses. The heroism of the defenders of St Elmo remains legendary.

Fort St Elmo, despite its deep symbolism, remains a ruin. Instead of impractical solutions to problems, like where to house Parliament or the St John's tapestries, the money should be used to restore this neglected national monument to its pristine condition. Fort St Elmo should become what is our highest institution, leaving the opera house to the opera lovers and the Armoury for armour. As alternative solutions continue to be aired, the tapestries will, no doubt, be able to fend for themselves.

kzt@onvol.net