Roberta Metsola tells Marco Rubio: Europe and US must lead global peace

Malta’s Roberta Metsola looked Marco Rubio straight in the eye and told him Europe and the United States must “lead together, not lecture each other,” if the world is to stand any chance of peace.
The European Parliament President, only the third Maltese national ever to hold an EU top-job, was speaking in Washington on Tuesday after a 40-minute closed-door meeting with the hawkish new U.S. Secretary of State.
Her message—delivered in crisp English with the faint Gozitan lilt that never quite leaves her voice—was as clear as the azure in the Grand Harbour: the trans-Atlantic alliance is alive, but it needs “a Mediterranean spine” to confront wars in Ukraine and Gaza, energy blackmail, and the migration crisis knocking on Malta’s door.

Back home, the clip of Metsola’s remarks went viral before lunch.
By 2 p.m., the grainy footage had been stitched into TikTok montages set to Ġorġ Zammit’s *Viva Malta*, shared by pensioners in Mosta cafés and debated by university students over ħobż biż-żejt outside Valletta campus.
“She sounded like us,” 23-year-old law student Daphne Caruana (no relation) told Hot Malta. “Not some Brussels robot—she sounded like the neighbour who still hangs her washing out on the balcony.”

That relatability is precisely why Metsola’s words carry weight far beyond the beltway.
In a country where politics is often a blood-sport played out over pastizzi, her rise from Birkirkara council girl to the EU’s most powerful woman is a rare point of consensus.
Labour voters praise her for pushing Malta’s offshore wind farms; Nationalists claim her as proof the island can still punch above its weight.
Even the usually sceptical hunting lobby applauded her for securing an EU waiver on turtle-dove quotas.
In short, Metsola is the closest thing modern Malta has to a unifying folk hero—something Rubio, juggling a sceptical Congress and an unpredictable White House, clearly recognised.

During the meeting, Metsola pressed three Maltese priorities that rarely make Fox News but keep Gozitan fishermen awake at night:
1. **A NATO-backed maritime corridor** to reroute Ukrainian grain through Malta’s Freeport, cushioning global prices that have pushed local rabbit-stew ingredients up 18 % in a year.
2. **Fast-track U.S. visas** for Maltese medical staff, easing Mater Dei’s nurse shortage so that hip-replacement waiting lists don’t stretch longer than the Sicily ferry.
3. **A joint EU–U.S. fund** for North African stabilisation, aimed at stemming migration before smugglers’ boats ever reach Malta’s search-and-rescue zone.

Rubio, whose Cuban parents fled authoritarianism, reportedly nodded when Metsola invoked Malta’s own 1970s exodus, when one in three citizens boarded ships to Australia and Canada.
“History teaches that small islands can become big beacons,” she told him, according to aides.
The Secretary of State later tweeted a photo of the two smiling under the Capitol dome, captioned: “Productive discussion with @EP_President on how free nations defend peace. Malta knows the stakes.”

The symbolism was not lost on Valletta’s tight-knit diplomatic corps.
Malta’s ambassador to the U.S., Thomas Reuther, hosted a reception where guests sipped *Kinnie* cocktails and debated whether Metsola’s charm offensive could unlock American funding for the proposed Gozo tunnel.
“Roberta turned our size into a superpower,” Reuther quipped. “When you speak for 27 nations yet still remember every cousin’s birthday in Xagħra, people listen.”

Yet beyond the flag-waving, Metsola’s trip carries real domestic stakes.
Energy bills here are pegged to volatile LNG markets; every rocket that lands near Odesa rattles Maltese pocketbooks.
Meanwhile, the government is bracing for up to 2,000 asylum-seekers this summer, a number that would swell Malta’s population by 0.4 % overnight.
If Metsola can leverage her newfound Washington clout into tangible burden-sharing, Labour MPs whisper, she could single-handedly take the wind out of Opposition sails before next year’s European elections.

Still, not everyone is clapping.
Leftist blogger Manuel Delia warned that cosying up to Rubio risks legitimising Trump-era unilateralism.
“Peace doesn’t mean photo-ops with men who ban books,” Delia wrote.
But even he conceded that Metsola’s insistence on multilateralism—“no peace without parliaments,” she said—was a subtle jab at strongmen everywhere.

As the sun set over the limestone walls of her hometown, Zebbug parish priest Fr. Joe said the evening rosary dedicated to “our Roberta.”
Whether divine intervention or old-fashioned grit, the message from Washington reached a tiny archipelago 6,000 kilometres away: Malta, once the hospital of the Mediterranean, now wants to be its negotiator.
And for one night at least, fishermen in Marsaxlokk turned down the TV volume, listened to a daughter of the soil speak of peace, and believed the waves might just grow calmer.