‘Ethnic extinction’: Archbishop sounds alarm on Malta’s record-low birth rate

Malta’s low birth rate risks ‘ethnic extinction’, Archbishop warns
By Hot Malta Newsroom

Archbishop Charles Scicluna set the island talking this week after he warned that Malta’s plunging birth rate could lead to “ethnic extinction”. Speaking during Sunday’s homily at St John’s Co-Cathedral in Valletta, the Archbishop told a packed baroque nave that the country is “slowly but surely writing its own farewell note” unless families start having more children. The blunt phrase ricocheted across WhatsApp groups, café counters and political talk-shows within hours, forcing Maltese society to confront a demographic shift that is already reshaping classrooms, village band clubs and even the number of baptisms at the historic church’s ornate font.

The numbers are stark. National Statistics Office data released last month show that only 3,581 babies were born in Malta in 2023—the lowest figure since records began in the 1950s and barely half the 7,000-plus annual births typical in the 1980s. Meanwhile, deaths have outnumbered births every year since 2019. The fertility rate now stands at 1.1 children per woman, far below the 2.1 needed for a population to replace itself without immigration. In a country whose identity has long been anchored in tight-knit village life, festa fireworks and multi-generational Sunday lunches, the prospect of empty swings in village squares feels less like an abstract statistic and more like a cultural eviction notice.

Local impact is already visible. Primary schools in rural localities such as Żebbuġ and Għargħur report shrinking first-year intakes; the Gozo College has merged two country schools because there simply aren’t enough children. Parish priests say baptisms, once weekly social highlights, are now scheduled fortnightly. At the iconic St George’s basilica in Victoria, the cradle traditionally used during the annual christening procession was carried empty last April—a sight that prompted murmurs among elderly worshippers. Conversely, elderly care homes are expanding. The state-run St Vincent de Paul residence has a three-year waiting list, while private facilities in Mellieħa and Marsascala are advertising jobs for carers in Tagalog and English as much as Maltese.

Culture clash
The Archbishop’s language—“ethnic extinction”—has sparked fierce debate. Critics accuse the Church of ethnic alarmism at a time when 27 % of Malta’s residents are foreign nationals who prop up health care, hospitality and construction. “My children are Maltese even if I’m not,” says Maryam Sultana, a Pakistani-Maltese mother of three in Marsa. “We’re baptised, we sing ‘L-Innu Malti’ at school, we queue for imqaret at the village feast.” Others agree with Scicluna. “It’s not about racism; it’s about continuity,” argues Toni Bezzina, mayor of Qrendi and father of four. “If our kids emigrate and foreigners integrate, who will carry the Qrendi statue of Our Lady of Lourdes in 30 years?”

Economists add another layer. Labour shortages are so acute that employers now sponsor visas for Filipino care workers and Indian hotel staff. Yet an ageing society strains pensions. Finance Minister Clyde Caruana has warned that without higher birth rates or sustained immigration, today’s workers face “retirement at 75 or higher taxes”. Young couples cite sky-high property prices—€400,000 for a three-bedroom flat in central Malta—and precarious gig-economy jobs as deterrents. “We’d love a third child, but our rent just went up €150,” says Martina Borg, 31, a teacher in Sliema who already shares a single bedroom with her two toddlers.

Policy push and parish pews
The government recently doubled the “baby bonus” to €800 and is piloting subsidised IVF for second and third children. The Church, for its part, is dusting off parish catechism classes as matchmaking hubs. “We’re reviving the ‘għaqdiet żgħażagħ’,” smiles Fr Joe Borg of Birkirkara, referencing the youth clubs that once paired teens at summer camps. Whether such moves can reverse a global trend remains doubtful, but the conversation has at least left the confessional and entered the public square.

For now, the Archbishop’s warning lingers like incense in the August heat: Malta must decide whether its future will be sung in lullabies or elegies.