Malta Backs Abela’s Push for Toughest Russia Sanctions: From Ukrainian Refugees to Village Bakeries, Islanders Feel the Pinch—and the Purpose

Prime Minister Robert Abela’s call for the European Union to maintain “the strongest possible pressure” on the Russian economy has struck a chord across Malta, from the boardrooms of Valletta’s financial-services firms to the kitchen tables of families still hosting Ukrainian refugees who fled Russian bombs in 2022.

Speaking in Brussels on Thursday after an EU summit dominated by Ukraine’s stalled €50-billion aid package, Abela warned that any easing of sanctions now would “reward aggression and undermine the rules-based order on which a small island like Malta depends for its security and prosperity.” The comments, carried live on Malta’s evening newscasts, were greeted with applause in cafés along Strait Street where World-War-II memories of foreign occupation still echo in local folklore.

Malta’s government has walked a careful line since Russia’s full-scale invasion: staying loyal to EU sanctions while protecting the tourism-dependent economy that, before COVID-19, welcomed 80,000 Russian visitors a year. The shift has been dramatic. Russian tour operators that once filled St Julian’s five-star hotels have vanished, replaced by Ukrainian humanitarian flights landing at Luqa bearing families who now rent apartments in Msida and St Paul’s Bay. According to Identity Malta, 2,847 Temporary Protection Permits remain active for Ukrainians, roughly one for every 200 Maltese residents—a ratio that has reshaped school registers and parish soup-kitchen queues alike.

“Sanctions are not abstract here,” says Marija Camilleri, head of the Malta Red Cross. “They mean fewer Russian yachts in Portomaso marina, but they also mean our volunteers are teaching Ukrainian kids how to swim at Buġibba bay.” Camilleri’s organisation has handled 18 tonnes of donated clothes since March 2022, much of it channelled through the Catholic parish network that still anchors village life from Żebbuġ to Għaxaq.

The economic pinch is felt, too. Russian cash that once flowed through Malta’s citizenship-by-investment scheme has dried up; National Statistics Office figures show a 92 % drop in Russian applications since sanctions began. Yet Finance Minister Clyde Caruana insists the island has gained more than it lost. “We’ve attracted 37 fintech firms relocating from Cyprus and the Baltics because they trust Malta’s stable regulatory environment under the EU umbrella,” Caruana told reporters outside Castille. “That’s €220 million in new payroll taxes—money that funds our pensions and health service.”

On the cultural front, Maltese bands have woven Ukrainian motifs into village festa decorations this summer: yellow-and-blue banners flutter beside traditional red-and-white Maltese flags in honour of the 14 Ukrainian children who marched in the Santa Venera procession. “It’s our way of saying you’re safe here,” explains band-club president Darren Micallef, whose own grandfather fled wartime bombardment to Alexandria in 1942. “Hospitality is in our DNA; sanctions are the price we pay to keep that spirit alive.”

Not everyone agrees. Chamber of SMEs CEO Abigail Mamo warns that import restrictions have pushed up grain prices, feeding directly into the cost of Maltese bread. “A 20-kg sack of flour is up €4 since February,” Mamo notes. “That hits the village baker who still sells ħobż biż-żejt for 80 cents.” Government subsidies have cushioned the blow, but bakers fear another round of sanctions could tip the balance.

Still, the mood on social media leans hawkish. A survey by MaltaToday shows 67 % support for “maximum pressure” on Russia, with respondents citing both solidarity with Ukraine and fear that a Russian victory would embolden other powers to test Malta’s neutrality. “We’re too small to police the Mediterranean alone,” comments history teacher Kurt Xerri from Rabat. “If the EU bends, we’re next on someone’s menu.”

As winter approaches, Maltese households are preparing for higher utility bills after Russian gas cuts forced Italy to raise electricity prices that feed Malta’s interconnector. Yet even here, community resilience shows. Local councils in Gozo have revived traditional limestone-windbreak techniques to insulate farmhouses, while NGOs organise car-pool rotas so elderly Ukrainians can collect medicine without burning fuel.

Conclusion: For Malta, Abela’s hard line is more than geopolitical positioning; it is a reflection of a society that has turned geopolitical crisis into neighbourhood solidarity. From the Ukrainian grandmother learning Maltese at the University of the Third Age to the Valletta start-up hiring Russian dissident coders, the island is writing a new chapter in its storied history of sheltering the displaced. Whether Brussels heeds Abela’s call for “strongest possible pressure” remains to be seen, but on these shores the message is already clear: the price of bread may rise, yet the cost of freedom is higher—and Malta, for once, is willing to pay.