Let’s stop pretending that nothing is happening to our national language. In state schools, our Maltese language is being quietly pushed aside. Not by law, not by debate but by daily practice.
English is becoming the default language of instruction, while Maltese is increasingly treated as an inconvenience. And the children are absorbing this message loud and clear.
The president of the Malta Union of Teachers has publicly confirmed what many educators have been witnessing for years: most lessons in state schools are now being conducted in English rather than Maltese. And, unbelievably, this sometimes extends even to Maltese lessons themselves. This shift is not accidental.
It is closely linked to the reality that international students remain in mainstream classrooms during Maltese lessons and that schools, lacking support and structure, often choose the path of least resistance: switching to English instead.
The result is devastating. Maltese children are being systematically deprived of the opportunity to live, learn and think bilingually. Instead of growing up confidently using and communicating in two languages, they are being funnelled into monolingual English environments, where Maltese becomes marginal, symbolic and almost optional.
In 2019, a National Policy for the Teaching of Maltese as a Foreign Language was drafted.
It was a serious, research-based document that acknowledged Malta’s linguistic reality and proposed structured pathways so that all children (Maltese and non-Maltese) could access Maltese meaningfully. This policy was never implemented. No rollout. No resourcing. No system-wide commitment. Six years later, it remains frozen on paper. And, while policymakers hesitate, children are paying the price.
The policy was clear: students following the national curriculum should have structured access to Maltese, either through mainstream learning or through Maltese-as-a-foreign-language pathway. It rejected both exclusion and exemption. It called for planning, induction periods, differentiation and trained educators.
What it did not anticipate was institutional paralysis.
Today, schools are improvising. Temporary solutions have become permanent norms. English is replacing Maltese not because it’s pedagogically or linguistically superior but because schools are operating under severe logistical constraints: a shortage of teachers, a lack of trained Maltese-as-a-foreign-language educators and, in many cases, no physical space to withdraw students for structured language support.
Although Maltese-as-a-foreign-language syllabi exist, and there is now even a MATSEC examination to certify this learning, international students are often unable to move out of mainstream classes during Maltese lessons to follow pathways appropriate to them. Therefore, lessons default to English, not out of conviction but out of necessity. This is not inclusion. It is a surrender disguised as being practical.
What is rarely acknowledged is what Maltese children are missing out on. Bilingualism is not a cultural luxury but a cognitive and social advantage. Children who grow up using two languages develop stronger executive function, better problem-solving skills, greater cognitive flexibility and improved attention control. They are better at switching perspectives, negotiating meaning and managing complex social environments.
Socially, bilingual (let alone multilingual!) children are more empathetic communicators. They understand difference not as a threat but as a lived reality.
A Maltese child who does not actively use Maltese in meaningful contexts is not fully bilingual- Jacqueline Zammit
They grow up grounded in their identity while being open to others. This is something many international students already experience: exposure to their mother tongue at home, English at school and often other languages as well. Living in Malta should naturally extend their linguistic richness to include learning and using the Maltese language.
Instead, by pushing Maltese to the margins, we are depriving both Maltese and non-Maltese children of a shared language and, in the process, limiting their mental, emotional and social development.
English-only schooling does not prepare children for a multilingual world. It flattens their mental world and erases an important part of who they are. A Maltese child who does not actively use Maltese in meaningful contexts is not fully bilingual, no matter how many flags we wave or slogans we repeat.
The expertise to do better already exists. For example, the University of Malta offers a postgraduate programme specifically designed to train educators in teaching Maltese as a foreign language. What is missing is not knowledge or teacher training but political will and structural commitment.
Leaving international students in mainstream classrooms during Maltese lessons without linguistic scaffolding does not promote integration. When Maltese lessons are delivered entirely in Maltese, particularly in higher years, this silences international students academically instead of providing them with the Maltese-as-a-foreign-language instruction they need. At the same time, it erodes Maltese as a language of learning.
Inclusion without structure becomes invisibility for everyone.
Educators’ concerns about workload, staffing and feasibility are real and valid. But let’s be honest about where responsibility lies. The problem is not that Maltese is expected to be taught; the problem is that the state never put the necessary structures in place to make that expectation realistic. Using logistical failure as an excuse to sideline the Maltese as a foreign language confuses cause with consequence. A policy that was never implemented cannot be blamed for failing.
Beyond classrooms, the damage is cultural and civic. A society that hesitates to protect its language teaches children that identity is negotiable and heritage is disposable. Languages are not destroyed by aggression alone. They fade through silence, delay and avoidance.
While taking part in the radio programme Bl-Għeruq u x-Xniexel, I was struck by Charles Xuereb’s reference to the late Prof. Oliver Friggieri’s long-standing fear that Maltese might fade from the lived reality of younger generations. When Friggieri first voiced this warning, it sounded distant. Today, it feels alarmingly close.
Generation Alpha is growing up in a digital world dominated by globalised American English, where the natural passing on of Maltese from one generation to the next will not happen by accident. Without deliberate and consistent institutional support, the Maltese language risks becoming ceremonial and respected in theory, while unused in practice.
Friggieri’s warning was given. The policy was written.
What remains undecided is whether we care enough to act before silence becomes the loudest language our children learn.
Jacqueline Zammit is a senior lecturer at the University of Malta, specialising in Maltese pedagogy, with a focus on Maltese as a foreign language.