Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1537666
THE European Commission has just presented its vision for the next Multi-Annual Financial Framework (MFF), covering the period from 2028 to 2034. Far from being a routine budgetary exercise, this proposal is a polit- ical and moral statement about what kind of Europe we want to build—and who we are building it for. As a Member of the European Parliament representing Malta within the Socialists and Dem- ocrats group, I welcome certain elements of the proposal. It fi- nally acknowledges the need for greater flexibility, especially for smaller and peripheral mem- ber states like Malta and Gozo. For years, we have argued that a rigid, one-size-fits-all funding model cannot work across a un- ion of such diversity. This pro- posal begins to correct that. It allows national governments to better align EU funds with their domestic priorities. Yet, this newfound flexibility comes with serious risk—the dilution of our shared respon- sibility toward the most vul- nerable in society and towards future generations. At the heart of the European project lies the principle of soli- darity. It is not just a value; it is the reason the EU exists in the first place. And from that stand- point, the most glaring omission in the commission's proposal is the absence of a standalone Eu- ropean Social Fund as a core component of the next MFF. This is not a technical over- sight. It is a political choice that carries consequences. A reduced emphasis on social funding means reduced hope for millions of Europeans. It means fewer opportunities for people with disabilities, weaker support for mental health care, and even fewer safety nets for families struggling with the cost of living. These are not abstract problems. These are realities that define the daily lives of people across Europe, including in Malta. When the commission faced a vote of confidence last week, our group's position reflect- ed this concern. Our cautious support was contingent on the inclusion of stronger social pro- tections in the MFF. We cannot, and will not, support a financial framework that turns its back on the very people Europe was meant to protect. I have said this many times before in the European Parlia- ment, even at the risk of sound- ing dissonant when defence spending dominated the agen- da—I do not believe a milita- rised Europe can be a socially just Europe. We must ensure peace and we must be ready to respond to external threats. But this can- not come at the cost of cutting funds that support the social fabric of our union. True securi- ty isn't only measured by tanks and drones. It is measured by how well we care for the most vulnerable, how we invest in mental health, how we support struggling families, how we ful- fil the aspirations of our youth and how we build inclusive communities. The most significant structur- al shift in this MFF proposal is the introduction of national and regional partnership plans. This replaces over 500 programmes with 27 national plans, giving member states more control. It's an ambitious and perhaps even revolutionary approach. But this change risks renation- alising what should be shared European priorities, particular- ly social ones. Throwing into one basket all different priori- ties that can sustain the wellbe- ing of our societies, risks failing our people. I believe in national flexibility. As a representative of a small is- land state, I understand deeply how important it is for mem- ber states to bring their specif- ic needs to the table. But there are some priorities that must remain European, because they define what Europe is. Social protection is one of them. The COVID-19 pandemic and the war in Ukraine proved that we need adaptable financial tools. The old MFF model, with its rigidity and lengthy proce- dures, failed to respond quickly in times of crisis. But let's not confuse adaptability with aban- donment. In building a more flexible union, we must not sac- rifice our duty to those who de- pend on the EU the most. The MFF is more than num- bers on a spreadsheet. It is a reflection of our collective con- science. If this union is to mean anything, it must mean hope, dignity, and decency for all—es- pecially those without a voice. We must continue to build Europe, first and foremost, on people. BENEATH Gozo's surface of the sun- kissed bays, winding valleys and terraced fields lies a deep, complex history, carved in stone and shaped by centuries of em- pires, settlements and myths. It is truly a story as old as time, or at least as old as bureaucracy itself. And yet, too often, the very sites that carry this legacy have been left to deteriorate over time. A public announcement, a wave of applause, and then… nothing. This is not just a frustrating cycle. It's dangerous. It puts at risk the very soul of our island, our history, our heritage, our identity. Two sites stand out today as sym- bols of this failure: the Rabat aqueduct and Calypso's Cave above Ramla l-Ħamra. The Rabat aqueduct, built during British rule in the mid-1800s, stands—just bare- ly—as one of the few remaining examples of civil engineering that is both functional and symbolic. It once carried water across the island to Victoria; now, it carries the weight of decades of institutional neglect. In 2022, the Gozo ministry announced a full-scale restoration, complete with time- frames. By 2025, we were told, the struc- ture would be stabilised, renewed, cele- brated. It is now 2025. There has been no restoration, no progress, and certainly no celebration. As the minister himself stated in a parlia- mentary reply on 26 May 2025 (PQ:28596), what has been done over the past three years is the "shoring up of the main arch" and the issuance of the tender for conser- vation works and "technical talks". Apart from a single support beam wedged beneath a single arch, an almost comical attempt at reassurance, there is nothing to show for all the pomp announced in 2022. The arches remain exposed. The stone- work continues to erode. There are no workers on site. No tools. No scaffolding. Just the wind, the sun, and the slow decay of what was once a public promise. And the question echoes loudly across the arches: How can something legally protected, historically priceless, and visibly collapsing remain in this state? Where are the answers? Where is the urgency? Designation is symbolic, but toothless; a legal status with no practical effect. It is the kind of gesture designed to tick boxes, not to drive outcomes. And so, we arrive at the uncomfortable truth: Gozo's heritage is not being preserved, it is being performed. We are offered announcements in place of maintenance; legal designations in place of work, and commemorative statements in place of competent management. Unfortunately, this isn't an isolated case. Overlooking Ramla Bay sits Calypso's Cave. Said to be the home of the nymph who detained Odysseus in Homer's Od- yssey, Calypso's Cave has captured the imagination of visitors for generations. But in Gozo, the real epic isn't Homeric, it's bureaucratic. The cave was closed to the public over safety concerns around 13 years ago. By 2019, a government-funded study was launched. In 2020, official plans were submitted. In March 2024, the Plan- ning Authority granted the final permit. And now, in 2025? Still closed. Still silent. Still fenced off. Let's be clear—heritage isn't protected by PowerPoints. It's not preserved by press conferences. It's not saved by ministerial walkabouts or ribbon-cutting rehearsals. This is not a problem of complexity. It is not a question of whether there is enough funding, or enough expertise, or enough interest. The money exists. The permits exist. What is missing is a functioning chain of execution, a will- ingness to govern heritage not as a brand- ing tool, but as a serious responsibility. Years pass not because the work is dif- ficult, but because it has not been made a priority. The damage cuts deeper than mere physical neglect. Heritage sites are not just stones and stories; they are also symbols of collective memory. When we let them fall into ruin, we communicate something corrosive. We tell people their past is disposable. We tell communities their identity can be shelved until conven- ient. And we tell the next generation that cultural stewardship is optional, so long as the social media posts are well-lit and the slogans carefully chosen. The Gozo ministry has every instrument it needs. What it lacks is resolve. The kind of political will that follows through once the applause dies down. We are not ask- ing for miracles. We are asking for com- petence. The people of Gozo need transpar- ency and accountability. We need fol- low-through. The silence is loud. But it shouldn't be the final word. If the ministry wants to play Homer, that's fine. But then finish the epic. Deliver the last chapter. Reopen the cave. Restore the aqueduct. And stop letting our history crumble beneath layers of good intentions and bad management. True security isn't only measured by tanks and drones. It is measured by how well we care for the most vulnerable. 6 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 20 JULY 2025 OPINION Luke Said Broken promises, crumbling heritage: Gozo deserves more than press conferences PN general election candidate for the 13 District Thomas Bajada The EU should be built around its people PL MEP (S&D) The Gozo ministry has every instrument it needs. What it lacks is resolve.