Ben & Jerry’s Rebel Soul Dies: What Malta’s Ice-Cream Lovers Lose as Co-Founder Quits

**Ben & Jerry’s Co-Founder Quits, Says Independence ‘Gone’: What It Means for Malta’s Iconic Ice-Cream Fans**

In a move that’s sent ripples through the global ice-cream community—and yes, that includes Malta’s growing legion of Cherry Garcia devotees—Ben Cohen, the co-founder of Ben & Jerry’s, has officially stepped down from the company’s board. His reason? A stinging farewell letter in which he claims the brand’s “independence is gone” and that its soul has been “corporatised beyond recognition.”

For Maltese millennials who grew up associating Ben & Jerry’s with rebellious flavour names and eco-activism, the news feels oddly personal. After all, the first pint of Phish Food landed on local supermarket shelves only in 2013—late by global standards, but perfectly timed for a generation hungry for identity beyond traditional ħobż biż-żejt. Cohen’s exit raises a question that resonates in a country where 70 % of food is imported: when a brand built on anti-establishment values sells out, what happens to the consumers who bought into the ideology along with the ice-cream?

The local scene is already buzzing. “It’s like watching your favourite punk band sign with a major label,” says Luke Bonnici, 29, who runs the popular Facebook group “Ben & Jerry’s Malta Spotters.” The page, which tracks supermarket promotions and new flavours arriving at Tower or Pama, has seen a 40 % spike in posts since the announcement. “People are posting photos of their ‘last independent pint’ as if it’s a collector’s item,” Bonnici laughs, half-serious.

Malta’s relationship with Ben & Jerry’s has always been more cultural than culinary. The brand arrived here via EU import channels just as the island’s café culture was exploding in St Julian’s and Sliema. Suddenly, a scoop of Karamel Sutra became a shorthand for cosmopolitan identity—Maltese, but worldly. University students used it as comfort food during exam season; NGOs sold it at fundraiser movie nights in Valletta’s old parliament building. Even the Environment & Resources Authority partnered with local distributors for a 2019 beach-clean-up where volunteers were paid in Cookie Dough.

Cohen’s letter specifically criticises Unilever, the Anglo-Dutch giant that bought Ben & Jerry’s in 2000, for “gutting the social mission” and “treating activism like a marketing garnish.” Unilever insists nothing has changed, but Maltese activists aren’t convinced. “We’ve seen this movie before,” says Romina Gatt, coordinator of Moviment Graffitti. “First they charm you with fair-trade labels, then they lobby against plastic-reduction laws behind closed doors.” Gatt points to last year’s controversial postponement of Malta’s single-use-plastic ban—widely blamed on industry pressure—as evidence that corporate green-washing is alive and well in the Mediterranean.

Will Cohen’s departure dent sales here? Probably not overnight. Import figures supplied by Malta’s Statistical Office show Ben & Jerry’s volumes rose 12 % in 2023, even after a 7 % price hike. Yet anecdotal chatter suggests a shift. “I’m switching to local gelato,” tweets @MaltaVeggie, a plant-based influencer. “If I want corporate vanilla I’ll buy it from the corner kiosk.” Smaller artisanal producers like DolceAmaro in Mgarr sense an opening; they’ve already launched a “Rebel Rabat” flavour—honey & carob—in glass returnable jars.

The bigger lesson for Malta may be about scale itself. We are a nation that cherishes village feasts over stadium concerts, family-run bakeries over supermarket aisles. When a global symbol of counter-culture turns out to be just another boardroom PowerPoint, the disappointment feels amplified on a small island. Cohen’s resignation letter ends with a call to “build new models that can’t be bought.” In a country where 96 % of businesses employ fewer than 10 people, that challenge sounds less like idealism and more like Tuesday afternoon.

So, as the last politically-correct spoonful melts under the August sun, Maltese fans face a delicious dilemma: keep licking, or start churning something of our own? Either way, the conversation has officially moved beyond brain-freeze.