Malta & Gaza: The Silent Witness

Imagine standing on the bustling Republic Street in Valletta, the sun warming your face, as you sip on a locally brewed Cisk. Now, picture this: just 2,500 kilometers away, another Mediterranean shore is experiencing a starkly different reality. This is Gaza, where the sun doesn’t bring warmth, but scorches the rubble of a 13-year-old blockade, the longest in modern history.

Malta, an island nation that has known its fair share of sieges and occupations, finds itself a silent witness to the slow-motion disaster unfolding in Gaza. The United Nations recently warned that Gaza could become uninhabitable by 2020. We’re in 2022, and the situation has only worsened.

Is what’s happening in Gaza genocide or ecocide? The debate rages on, but one thing is clear: the international community’s inaction is allowing a slow, systematic destruction of an entire people and their environment.

Genocide, as defined by the UN, involves the intent to destroy a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group. Some argue that Israel’s policies towards Palestinians, including those in Gaza, exhibit this intent. Others point to the environmental devastation – ecocide – as the more accurate term. Gaza’s coastal waters, once teeming with fish, are now largely poisoned and empty. Its farmlands, destroyed by repeated bombing and restricted access to resources, can no longer sustain its people.

The UN Human Rights Council has repeatedly condemned Israel’s actions in Gaza, yet little changes. Why? Because Israel, backed by powerful allies, enjoys near-total impunity. This impunity has a price: the lives of over 2 million Gazans, trapped in an open-air prison, with no access to clean water, electricity, or basic services.

Malta, with its strategic location and historic ties to the region, could play a role in breaking this cycle. Our government could use its influence to push for an end to the blockade and a just resolution to the conflict. It could also offer safe haven to Gaza’s refugees, as it has done in the past.

But time is running out. Gaza’s collapse isn’t just a distant tragedy; it’s a warning of what can happen when a people are denied their basic rights, and the world looks away. It’s a stark reminder of our shared humanity, and our collective responsibility to speak out and act.

So, the next time you’re enjoying the view from the Upper Barrakka Gardens, take a moment to think about Gaza. And then, do something. Write to your MP, sign a petition, donate to a humanitarian organization. Because silence is complicity, and we’re all connected, by the sea that binds us, and the humanity that defines us.