Malta Deports Three Irregular Migrants in Dawn Flight as Island Debates Identity

**Three Irregular Migrants Deported from Malta, Ministry Says**

In the early hours of Tuesday morning, three irregular migrants were escorted onto a military-chartered aircraft at Malta International Airport, marking the island’s first deportation of 2024. The Ministry for Home Affairs, Security, Reforms & Equality confirmed the removal in a two-line statement that gave no detail of the men’s nationalities or the length of time they had spent inside the Safi Detention Centre. For a country that has seen more than 24,000 boat arrivals since 2002, the number sounds almost trivial—yet in Malta every departure is freighted with symbolism.

Outside the airport perimeter, a handful of activists from the NGO Integra Foundation held up cardboard letters spelling “NO PERSON IS ILLEGAL”. Motorists speeding past on the Luqa bypass honked in support or irritation; it is impossible to tell which. The scene, played out in the grey pre-dawn light, is a Maltese tableau: a sliver of Europe suspended between Libya and Lampedusa, where geography makes policy feel personal.

Inside the terminal, the deportation unfolded with clinical efficiency. Sources close to the operation told *Hot Malta* that the three men—two Bangladeshis and an Egyptian aged between 27 and 41—had exhausted all legal remedies, including asylum appeals and a final habeas corpus petition heard last week in the Civil Court. They had been classified as “irregular” after arriving on separate fishing vessels in late 2022, meaning their asylum claims were either rejected or deemed manifestly unfounded. A government spokesman said all three had “voluntarily accepted” repatriation in exchange for €1,500 each under the EU-funded Assisted Voluntary Return and Reintegration programme, a claim disputed by the migrants’ former lawyer.

Malta’s deportation machine is small but well-oiled. In 2023 the island returned 248 people to 17 countries, a 40 % increase on the previous year. The uptick coincides with a €2.3 million contract awarded to a private security firm to escort deportees, sparking criticism from the Nationalist Party that government is “outsourcing compassion”. Yet for many Maltese, the issue is less about numbers than about identity. In a nation of 520,000—where parish feasts still outnumber political parties—the arrival of even a single boat can feel like a cultural tremor.

Take Marsa, the gritty inland town that hosts the island’s open centre. Here, Bangladeshi grocers sell okra opposite a 17th-century baroque church whose bell tolls for evening Mass. “We are not against migration,” says shop-owner Carmenu Zahra, 68, whose family has run the nearby kiosk since 1958. “But the pace must allow us to breathe, to keep our Malta Maltese.” His words echo a sentiment heard across café counters: pride in a nation that once welcomed Knights and refugees alike, coupled with fear of losing control.

The deportation also lands amid a wider European debate. Next month Malta will join Italy and Greece in lobbying Brussels for a “solidarity mechanism” that relocates arrivals across the bloc within four weeks, or guarantees immediate returns. Government sources say the three men flown out yesterday are a “pilot” intended to show partners that Malta can enforce returns without breaching human-rights rulings. Critics counter that speed often trumps justice. “When a case is processed in six months instead of two years, that sounds good,” says integra lawyer Katrine Camilleri, “but if the applicant had no proper interpreter, the quick decision is just a quick mistake.”

For the migrants left behind in Safi, the news travels in whispers. A Somali man who gave his name only as Hassan told *Hot Malta* by phone that detainees follow every deportation like sailors reading the weather. “When three go, we all calculate: who is next? Maybe me, maybe not. It is a lottery.” Lottery or not, the aircraft lifted off at 06:14, banked over the limestone villages of Ħaż-Żebbuġ, and disappeared into a pale Mediterranean sky. By the time the sun had climbed above the parish dome, the runway was quiet again, the cardboard letters packed away, and Malta had reclaimed 0.0006 % of its population.

Yet the island remains what it has always been: a crossroads where continents rub against each other and every arrival, or departure, leaves a scratch on the local psyche. In the words of poet Immanuel Mifsud, “We are the rock that boats remember.” Yesterday three men stopped remembering it from the inside. Whether Malta will remember them is another question entirely.