Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/384358
maltatoday, SUNDAY, 21 SEPTEMBER 2014 10 News to qualify for a vote… most commonly by owning property. Nonetheless it represent- ed participation in the election of a coun- cil of administration, even if on a minority basis. "Having a vote also meant you would have individuals, and later parties, which would contest the elections. It also meant you had newspapers which would report those parties' manifestos. In the legisla- ture you could have speeches reported in these newspapers, which would be read in the coffee shops, even to illiterates. The value of cartoons was highly important at the time. You could get a political mes- sage even if you didn't know how to read. All this contributed to the formation of a public opinion." From 1880 onwards, the mobilisation of political parties assumed a much deeper significance in the political fabric of the island. "There was the Nationalist party led by Fortunato Mizzi, and the Reform- ist Party under Sigismondo Savona… both basically mobilised by British policy to an- glicise the island as much as possible: in education, in public administration, in the fiscal system; to some extent also in the law courts and the judiciary. Shortly after Italian unification, of course… which was a new threat to British interests." Yet at the time, the concept of Malta as an independent country was alien even to the Nationalist Party. So what were they actu- ally asking for? "Not sovereignty, certainly. They would have been laughed out of the room if they did. What they wanted was representative government: preferably responsible gov- ernment. But the main demand through- out the 1880s was for a constitution better than the one of 1849, under which Maltese representatives were in a minority. And this was achieved in 1887, when Britain granted representative government. For the first time there was a Maltese major- ity in the council of government; though of course the Governor was still in the chair, and could still veto legislation. But you can see a linear progression. If you plotted a graph, the direction would come out very clearly." And even though independence was still far from being conceivable, there were oc- casional flashes of revolutionary feeling even in the late 19th century. "There were instances that have been more or less hushed up. On 8 September, 1885, Fortunato Mizzi delivered a highly seditious speech on the Palace Square, in which he demanded a 'national day' – which we still don't have, incidentally. Our national day would have been Otto Set- tembre, commemorating the victory of the Knights over the Turks in 1565. To empha- sise matters, one of Mizzi's colleagues on the rostrum shouted: 'Malta e' dei Maltesi, non degli Inglesi. Fuori lo straniero!' [Malta belongs to the Maltese, not to the English. Out with the foreigners!] One pro-British member of the audience went running to the Governor to report the incident and get him arrested…" Nonetheless, Frendo adds that Malta's status as a fortress colony made any real demand for independence impossible until much later. Malta's strategic importance to the British – which in the 19th century was still very relevant – would automati- cally override all other concerns. "No party would have been bold or fool- hardy enough to demand sovereignty in 1887. That came much later. The first at- tempt to open up Maltese governance to a greater institutional autonomy came in 1933: after the Statute of Westminster, in 1931, had established the Dominions – namely, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, etc. – and granted them au- tonomy almost on a par with independence within the Commonwealth. The National- ist administration at the time – Sir Ugo Mifsud, Enrico Mizzi, and so on – tried to get Malta out of its Colonial Office status, and instead link it to the Dominion Office. They went up to London, and submitted a memorandum to the colonial secretary. But of course Britain would not hear of it in 1932. Instead, the entire Constitution was revoked. So much for Dominion Sta- tus…" At this point it becomes impossible to imagine what Malta would be like today had they been successful. Nonetheless these failed attempts also set the tone for the subsequent independence debate 30 years later, culminating in the permanent lowering of the Union Jack at the Mall in Floriana on 21 September, 1964. t 50 years later identity in Malta's CHARLES XUEREB A monument, a word derived from the Latin monumentum, meaning a memorial adorned by an epitaph, is born out of death. It materi- alizes the absence by creating a meaningful visual. It exhorts the living to acknowledge and accept that which is no more, supporting memory and offering an invitation to share a common future. This apt definition by Odon Vallet does not rule out the collective, often national, monu- ment which a city or country erects to mark dates and places associated with heroes or pub- lic achievements, often remembering a protag- onist or protagonists whose life impinged on identity. Examples of the former type abound in war cenotaphs while that of the latter, nor- mally fewer in number, range from megalithic ruins to independence or freedom memorials. Well-known ideologist Régis Debray, who be- lieves monuments emerge with the conscience of history, categorizes memorials under three headings: message, form and trace. All three mobilize different qualities of respect and affec- tion: the aesthetic pleasure of a spectator is not the same as the historical interest of the visitor or of the civic morality of the participant. Ex- amples from Paris include the Bastille column as a message-monument, the glass Pyramid at the Louvre as a form-monument and Victor Hugo's residence at Place des Vosges as a trace- monument; often the latter is appreciated less for its aesthetics and more for its connected historical utility. If one were to apply these categories to Val- letta's monumental sites one could easily pick Piano's bastion-like entrance for its form, Ball's Lower Barrakka mausoleum for its message and St John's Co-Cathedral for its trace of his- tory. World-wide in our times the form variety seems to be gaining popularity: it is an oppor- tunity for modern societies to produce what is contemporary, give a particular character to the place and attract tourists seeking architec- tural novel oeuvres. None of the three Valletta sites mentioned above however could really and truly reclaim Maltese ownership. Malteseness in Valletta After 50 years of independence, if one were to stroll around our capital city one would hardly find strong notions of Malteseness. Given our past association with foreigners it comes as no surprise that Valletta itself is a monument to its French founder La Valette as is the inestimable treasure of St John's commissioned by another French grandmaster, La Cassière. The different Langues of the Order left their respective na- tional marks in auberges they built; some still stand, namely those of Italy, Spain, Bavaria and Provence. Architecturally only two buildings in the capital survive from the British era: the Royal Opera House, recently joining our megalithic temples as a site of ruins, and St Paul's, reli- giously dwarfed by the aggrandized dome of the Carmelites Church. As if to correct this imbalance, however, the British managed to fill Valletta's bastion gardens with sepulchral memorials for servicemen and officials. Their colonialist authoritative presence was further boosted through the anointment of most land- marks around the Palace with large royal insig- nias cast in stone. Above all the defunct British Empire still beckons with the 19th century sym- bolic figure of Queen Victoria, enthroned right in the heart of this island's republican square. Since independence the Maltese only seem to have crept in quite unobtrusively in the capital through a set of unelaborated busts and statues of past prime ministers concentrated around Castille. Lord Strickland is the only one enjoy- ing a memorial in the Upper Barrakka. Respect to national memory To date presidential monuments did not adorn Valletta; a post-independence tradition opted to return their affective memories to their original constituency neighbourhoods. This month however registered the first ex- ception: a former President's statue made it to one of the top places of exposure in Republic Street, sharing this prime public space with a historical monument that is considered to be the strongest in embodying collective identity (by St John's side there is also the bust of Pius V associated with the founding plans of the city). This is markedly a significant departure from the norm and one wonders – with all due respect to President de Marco, who deserves to be remembered on a national scale – if any 'protocol' was observed with respect to the people's national memory. Is the placing of this statue for a non-prime minister in the capital – now also creating a precedent – to be categorized as a message or trace monument? De Marco's presence in front of the courts makes one assume that it was placed there for an emotional exchange with the spectator regarding his association This inscription at the Upper Barrakka Gardens commemorates the Queen (of where?)'s last visit to Malta in 2007. Why does the plaque speak of the diamond jubilee instead of the visit? After 50 years of independence inviting the future sovereign of the ex-colonialists constitutes continuation?