Malta pilots offered to halt protests ‘four times’ as Air Malta stand-off deepens

ALPA: Union offered to suspend directives ‘several’ occasions, but talks with Malta International Airport remain grid-locked

The tarmac at Malta International Airport (MIA) has been quieter than usual, and not because of off-season schedules. For the third week running, Air Malta pilots—members of the Airline Pilots’ Association (ALPA)—have stuck to a work-to-rule that is rippling through the islands’ travel-hungry population. Yet behind the scenes, ALPA insists it has repeatedly offered to “press pause” on the directives if management returns to the negotiating table with “concrete, written guarantees” on job security and a transparent career-progression path.

“We are not strike-happy,” ALPA President Captain Paul Azzopardi told Hot Malta on Tuesday, speaking from the union’s Valletta headquarters overlooking Grand Harbour. “On four separate occasions—twice in writing—we informed the airline we would suspend all industrial action for 30 days if Air Malta agreed to independent mediation and a moratorium on redundancies. Each time the reply was radio silence.”

The stand-off centres on the carrier’s plan to shrink its fleet from eight to four Airbus A320s next winter, a move that would leave roughly 70 pilots redundant unless they accept transfers to Malta’s fledgling cargo operator or foreign carriers. For a country where aviation is woven into the national fabric—think festa fireworks timed to low-flying jets, or village feasts that still pause when the 6 p.m. Rome shuttle roars overhead—the prospect of half the national pilot corps packing their bags feels almost personal.

Cultural reverberations
Malta’s relationship with aeroplanes is intimate. The first Alitalia DC-3 touched down in 1946, the same year Britain granted self-government, and locals still speak of that silver bird as a harbinger of modernity. Over subsequent decades, Air Malta became a floating village square: passengers recognised cabin crew from their hometown band clubs, and pilots doubled as civic pageant masters. Shrinking the airline therefore feels, to many, like shrinking the islands themselves.

“Air Malta isn’t just a company; it’s our calling card to cousins in Melbourne and Toronto,” says Sliema restaurateur Marisa Camilleri, who relies on the lunchtime Luton route for British seafood suppliers. “If pilots leave, routes die, frequencies drop, and my Dover sole sits in Heathrow instead of my kitchen.”

Community impact
Tourism accounts for 27% of Malta’s GDP, and the pilots’ work-to-rule has already sliced 5% off September seat capacity, according to Malta International Airport statistics. Hoteliers in Gozo report a 12% spike in last-minute cancellations, while airport cafeterias have reduced staff shifts. Ironically, the same workers whose jobs are jeopardised by fewer flights are the ones serving pilots their pre-flight espressos.

Government sources say the airline burns €2m a week, and Brussels has given Malta until 31 December to present a viable restructuring plan or repay €290m in illegal state aid. Yet pilots counter that the maths looks different when social costs are tallied: every pilot made redundant takes with him or her roughly €60,000 in annual disposable income, the equivalent of two Band Club sponsorships and a dozen festa firework shells.

Negotiation timeline
ALPA’s first offer to suspend directives landed on 22 August, three days after pilots began refusing overtime and discretionary duties. A second proposal followed on 29 August, this time copied to the Minister for Finance. A third and fourth offer came after conciliation meetings chaired by the Director of Industrial Relations, but management insists any moratorium must be unconditional. “We cannot negotiate under threat,” Air Malta CEO Clifford Chetcuti wrote in an internal memo leaked to this newspaper.

Labour Minister Clyde Caruana weighed in on Monday, warning that “no one holds a monopoly on patriotism,” but stopped short of endorsing binding arbitration favoured by pilots. Meanwhile, Nationalist MP and shadow transport spokesperson Ivan Castillo urged government to “treat pilots as stakeholders, not scapegoats,” reminding Parliament that Air Malta’s 1973 founding statute enshrines the airline as a “public service obligation.”

What next?
With summer morphing into shoulder season, the stakes rise daily. ALPA has scheduled an extraordinary general meeting for Sunday 24 September, where members will vote on whether to escalate to limited strike days. Yet even here, Malta’s communal pulse beats strong: one pilot told Hot Malta he’ll fly his scheduled Luton rotation the day after the vote because “my nephew’s confirmation party is that weekend—can’t let the family down.”

In the words of veteran cabin crew member Tanya Pace, “We’ve all grown up under the Air Malta livery. We want the airline to survive, but not at the cost of our children’s future.” Whether the government and EU bean-counters can craft a lifeline that keeps both cockpits and communities intact remains the question hovering over the islands—much like the A320s now circling in holding patterns, waiting for clearance to land.