Malta Parliament Revives Commercial Court: What It Means for Traders, Festa Bands and Foreign Investors
Valletta’s 17th-century Parliament was buzzing louder than a summer festa on Tuesday evening as MPs kicked off the first reading of a bill to resurrect Malta’s dedicated Commercial Court – a tribunal that traders, start-ups and even band-club treasurers have been clamouring for since it was quietly mothballed back in 2005.
For anyone who has tried to chase an unpaid invoice through the clogged civil lists, the news feels like double-parked justice finally being towed into place. “We are sending a signal that Malta means business – literally,” Economy Minister Silvio Schembri told the House, waving a copy of the 46-clause Bill that proposes a stand-alone court with three specialised judges, tighter deadlines and English-language proceedings if both parties agree.
The timing is no accident. The European Commission’s 2023 Rule-of-Law report singled out Malta for “excessive length of commercial litigation”, averaging 1,260 days to resolve a contract dispute – almost triple the EU median. Meanwhile, the Malta Chamber of Commerce reports that 72 % of its members have withheld investment because of legal uncertainty. “When a cafė owner in Sliema can’t recover €30 k from a supplier, he thinks twice before opening a second outlet in Gżira,” chamber president Marisa Xuereb said. “A swift Commercial Court is economic adrenaline.”
But the debate also tugged at deeper cultural threads. Nationalist MP Jerome Caruana Cilia reminded the House that Malta’s first commercial tribunal predates the Knights, mentioned in a 1424 town-cuffie edict by King Alfonso V of Aragon. “Commerce is in our DNA – from cotton exports to the dockyards,” he said. “Re-establishing this court is not innovation; it is restoration.”
Across the aisle, Labour back-bencher Andy Ellul pitched the court as a social equaliser. “Small village grocers will be able to file a claim online for €50, instead of hiring a Q.C.,” he insisted, referencing the Bill’s planned small-claims track capped at €25,000. The imagery resonated in a country where family-run stationery shops share streets with iGaming giants.
Not everyone was clapping. ADPD chairperson Sandra Gauci warned that “another court is pointless if we still have a shortage of judges and a culture of postponements”. The Chamber of Advocates echoed the caution, demanding better salaries to stop lawyers drifting to corporate compliance jobs.
Yet business forums are already fantasising about spin-offs: quicker credit, cheaper trade-finance, maybe even Malta’s first dedicated shipping-arbitration centre to rival Cyprus. “Speedy judgments attract foreign investors who currently register here but litigate in London,” said Dr. Ramona Frendo, a maritime lawyer who has lobbied for the reform since 2016.
Outside the ivory walls, the man-on-the-street impact looks just as tangible. Take Josephine Borg, 58, who runs a lace stall on Republic Street. A Swedish tour operator still owes her €4,800 for customised table-runners ordered in 2019. “I gave up when the hearing was postponed four times,” she shrugged. Under the new setup, her case would automatically fall into the small-claims track and must be decided within six months.
Then there is the voluntary-organisation angle. Local band clubs – those exuberant pillars of village festi – often double as mini-conglomerates, renting out premises and commissioning fireworks. “Chasing unpaid bar revenue drains funds that should buy trumpet pads,” laughs Mario Cini, president of the Banda San Pawl in Valletta. “A fast Commercial Court keeps the marches marching.”
Government whips hope the Bill will sail through second reading by June and become operational in 2025. If it does, court administrators will convert the former Auberge d’Italie registry into a brightly lit Commercial Division, complete with digital filing kiosks and – in true Maltese style – a pastizzeria concession in the lobby.
For an island whose GDP is 80 % services, the stakes could hardly be higher. As the Speaker called the session to a close, one could almost hear the sighs of relief from accountants in Ta’ Xbiex and olive growers in Żebbuġ alike. Whether the promise of swift justice becomes reality or joins the long list of shelved blueprints will depend less on parchment and more on political will – and perhaps on how quickly pastizzi can be served without inducing further delays.
