Imagine yourself walking down a deserted street at night and you hear the shuffle of footsteps behind you, causing a tickle of suspense to crawl up your back.

You glance over your shoulder, and your initial suspense expectedly morphs into assuagement or trepidation depending on whom you see. If you see a Caucasian, whether Maltese or foreigner, you are likely to feel some unease; if you see an African or Middle Eastern, even another Asian, you are likely to feel stronger apprehension.

It’s a response arising from racial profiling – the apportioning or projection of suspicion on the basis of race.

‘Racial profiling’ in law enforcement is justifiably renounced, but can we extend the renunciation to the individual? Does your response to the person walking behind you make you racist?

Indeed, making an initial judgement on someone or a situation partly on the basis of race of the protagonist may be racist. Most of us do just that, so is most of the world racist?

In any discussion about racism and immigration we have to start by conceding that, despite lofty ideals about all humans being equal under the sun or God, immigrants will always be considered ‘the others’ to a certain extent. And the greater the ethnological differences between the natives and specific immigrants the greater the sense of otherness and suspicion.

The tendency among immigrants is to remain separate in enclaves or expat bubbles, and for the natives to similarly congregate among their own. This separateness, borne primarily by differences in sensibilities and bondage engendered by common language, fosters prismatic views and divergent perceptions (once again, the greater the ethnographic differences the greater the divergences).

In Malta there are three broad immigrant groupings – migrants from within the EU, legal migrants from outside the EU and irregular migrants (a mixture of war-fleeing refugees and others fleeing economic desperation) – and further variations within each grouping. For example, we are more at ease among migrants from northwest Europe, with whom we have a longer history of interaction and familiarity, than migrants from Eastern Europe.

But all immigrants in Malta lament that Maltese look out for each other, even gang up on foreigners. I watched a British-made film recently in which this sentiment was plainly exposed: it was about British expats in Gozo, and the only natives that featured ganged up on the main character, who was teetering at the edge of insanity, by mocking him and taunting him and then beating him up when he confronted them. A few weeks ago two English friends took it upon themselves to harangue me for being excluded from voting despite being in Malta for many years.

I suppose most Maltese are supportive of the vote remaining the preserve of Maltese citizens. It’s a stance influenced by Malta’s relatively recent emancipation from colonialism – the idea that we shouldn’t allow foreigners, particularly northwesterly Europeans with their air of superiority and condescendence, to meddle in our affairs.

Instead of focusing heavily on the rights of immigrants, it would be more helpful for everyone, immigrants included, to encourage integration

This us-and-them reckoning is a worldwide phenomenon, only national histories are different. But now racism has become a tetchy issue because the national homogeneity of yesteryear has been upended by globalisation and the heterogeneous fluidity of immigration. Now we have to grapple with the new reality of foreigners settling among us in large numbers.

I have lived in countries very different from my own and that has made me realise that as an immigrant you shall remain the other or the foreigner unless you immerse yourself in your adopted home. Primary requirements in immersion is speaking the language fluently and adopting that country’s sensibilities, at least manifestly. It would also help to be closely bonded to family and friends, and to gain belonging by your contribution to country or community.

But it takes time and effort and resourcefulness to integrate seamlessly; it’s the achievement of the few not the many. In the UK I came close to such immersion because I had the benefit of being a professional scribbler of English (England is every English writer’s spiritual home). In other countries I achieved shallow levels of immersion, despite deliberately living in parts of the country where few other foreigners settled. In China, I still remained something of a curiosity, like a monkey dressed to be human, but my effortful adoption of the ethos earned me amused admiration.

In China, as an immigrant, you get treated like a guest, socially and bureaucratically. A guest is treated with courtesy and patience, but a guest has to be careful to avert offending his hosts. They keep tabs on you – you have to report to the local police station if you move house and whenever you return to the country after a stint abroad – and it’s only after five years of living in the country on yearly visa cycles can you apply for a longer five-year residency. Then they subject you to scrutiny and enquiry – they even ask your neighbours about your demeanour – to establish that you are a conforming member of society.

I admire the Chinese way of handling immigrants because it encourages integration. By integration I mean respecting the country’s sensibilities, identifying with the country’s ethos, being sensitive towards local ways and manners, and becoming economically integrated. In that way the Chinese have none of the ethnic ghettos infamous in European cities.

The ghetto that has taken shape in our Marsa, constituted of immigrants from Africa mostly, has generated much news recently. It’s an open secret that most of us treat these immigrants (together with Middle Easterners) with simmering hostility. This is partly due to the idea that these people, even though they would be fleeing war or economic misery, foist themselves on us by turning up on our shores. (Of course we do reciprocate by exploiting them as a source of cheap, hapless labour.)

There is also the idea that these immigrants are particularly susceptible to crime. That may partly be due to their ghettoisation (for which we share some of the blame), partly due to lack of resourcefulness, and partly because immigrants generally are not held back as strongly by family and community restraints. They can also more easily abscond.

But whatever the causes and analysis, it demonstrates how a large number of immigrants who do not integrate become a source of social strain. When communities feel overwhelmed by high immigration, social strife sets in.

It doesn’t help that the discussion in media and politics has become fixated on countering racial discrimination. People are bewildered by the advance of anti-discrimination tenets and laws that define our responsibilities towards immigrants in the absence of parallel moves to define the obligations of immigrants towards our society. Instead of focusing heavily on the rights of immigrants, it would be more helpful for everyone, immigrants included, to encourage integration.

I believe that the onus to integrate falls largely on the immigrants themselves. You can’t blame the natives for feeling indignant towards foreigners who display indifference towards local sensibilities, or feeling betrayed by the undercutting of wages. Or immigrants who become a drain on benefits at the expense of the indigenous poor.

At least, for the sake of social cohesion, a distinction has to be made between transient migrants (which our economy needs due to labour shortages) and immigrants who settle for the long haul. One way of achieving this is by introducing a citizenship test (as many other European countries do). Immigrants shouldn’t be able to gain automatic citizenship after five years, even if they are the spouses of Maltese nationals (many women are marrying for convenience, damaging Maltese families in the process), but should only qualify for citizenship once they pass a citizenship and integration test after many years living continuously in Malta.

And we should have no qualms about reserving some privileges for the indigenous population (for example, it shouldn’t be seen as discriminatory to deport immigrants who commit crimes of certain gravity); there is a basis for doing so in natural law. Likewise, it is not racist to embrace the logic that if you expect acceptance in another country you have to earn your belonging.