Malta sits
right in the centre of the Mediterranean, a day’s sail from Tunisia and from
Sicily, thus forming a kind of bridge between Africa and Europe. It has been inhabited by humans from Neolithic
times, and the remains of about a dozen stone-age temples and burial complexes
are still in pretty good condition considering they’ve been around for over
5000 years. Sadly you have to book
months ahead to get into the Hypogeum, a huge Neolithic burial chamber complex,
but you can see the three-chambered temples, in various stages of decay, in
various parts of Malta and the northern island of Gozo. In the Museum of Archaeology in Valetta,
artefacts from the sites are housed, including the mystical fertility goddess
figures known affectionately as the ‘fat ladies’.
Fishing boat in Marsaxxlok
The island
was later colonised by the Phoenicians and governed from Carthage (in modern
Tunisia). The brightly coloured Maltese fishing
boats with watchful eyes on their high prows are apparently the descendents of
the Phoenician trading vessels that once abounded throughout the Med. Rome took over when they finally destroyed
Carthage in about 150 BC. A key event in
Malta’s history was the arrival of St Paul, who was shipwrecked in 60 AD on the
northern coast on his way to Rome to stand trial (he was found guilty and
martyred there later). So persuasive was
Paul that the Maltese remain staunchly Catholic to this day, despite about five
centuries of Arab rule, which certainly influenced other aspects of the Maltese
language and culture. There are two
cathedrals, dozens of major churches, hundreds of small chapels and a saintly
icon on just about every street corner and housefront. Most of the older churches have two clocks,
one with the correct time and the other with the incorrect time, to fool the
devil so that he doesn’t know what time Mass will be.
Church at the end of the street - this one is in Mosta,made famous for when two bombs bounced off the dome during a Mass in 1942. A third bomb pierced the dome, but rolled down the aisle unexploded...
From the 11th
century on, the Maltese were burdened with various rulers – Normans, Aragonese,
Castillians – and beset constantly by Turks and Barbary pirates. Many of the older towns were built on hilltops
well inland to guard against these depredations. Mdina, the old capital, is a beautiful example
with its golden limestone city wall winding around the hillside and its narrow
streets and balconied residences very little changed from the Middle Ages.
Along with
Eric from Tiger and Olivier and
Lauren from Hephaistos, we visited
Mdina for the town’s annual Medieval Festival. If you set aside all of us gawping,
camera-toting tourists, much of it was pretty convincing stuff: authentic-looking
armour and weaponry, clothing styled to that worn by the various factions of
the city, skilled drummers and other musicians, falconers, priests and
villagers – even a dead-cart for plague victims and a band of heretics chained
up ready for the fire. Monty Python jokes proliferated. Stalls sold souvenirs
and local fare. Then what should we spy
doing a brisk trade in a corner of the square but a purveyor of that wondrous Medieval instrument, cousin to
the lute and the virginals – yep, you guessed it, a didgeridoo stall! Every
single country we’ve visited has had gum trees and she-oaks (aka Australian
Pines), and now it appears the didge is infiltrating as well.
Well, next
up in the Maltese chronicle came the Knights of St John, in 1530. They had been driven out of Rhodes by the
Turks and were granted Malta by the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V for the rental
cost of two falcons per year (the Maltese, as usual, had no say in this
arrangement). By the time the Turkish attacked
in 1565, the Grand Harbour had been partly fortified, but there were only 700
Knights and a force of about 8000 Maltese troops against the vast Turkish
fleet. Assistance from the Empire was
slow, and slight. The siege was
protracted and brutal. The Turks tried
to demoralize the defenders by nailing the headless bodies of dead knights to
crosses and floating them back into the harbour. The Maltese responded by
beheading their Turkish prisoners and firing back the heads as cannon balls. Finally a relief force arrived from Sicily and
the Turks retreated to their galleys in St Paul’s Bay, suffering heavy losses.
After the
Great Siege of 1565, the new capital of Valetta (named for Jean de la Vallette,
Grand Master and strategist-hero of the Siege) was built and, of course,
heavily fortified. Looking out from the
ramparts anywhere in the small capital city, you just can’t imagine a
successful attempt on the walls. Vast
blocks of limestone, many metres thick, piled to the height of small mountains;
clever constructions that leave the enemy concentrated into tight corners or
spread without cover, easy targets on open ground. Terry described it as “a pleasure to defend.”
And of course, there were opportunities for further Monty Python references
(“Tell ‘im we already got one!”) from the commanding heights of the
battlements.
Barakka Gardens -an awesome view over the harbour
Once the
walls were up, building picked up apace within – churches, palaces, villas, and
of course the magnificent St Johns co-Cathedral (‘co’ because there was already
a cathedral in Mdina). Vast and ornate as we’ve come to expect, for me this
cathedral had two highlights. The first, of course, is the fact that the entire
floor is paved with elaborate inlaid marble slabs, under each of which lies the
body of a Knight of St John, slain in battle. These slabs typically have the
knight’s details and a Biblical verse in Latin, a heraldic device and
decorations such as angels or the memento
mori, a skull or skeleton to remind us to have our souls always in a fit
state, as Death is ever present. The second highlight is the pair of
spectacular Caravaggio paintings – The
Beheading of St John the Baptist and St
Jerome which just glow with light. His paintings herald a new order: every
figure is profoundly human. There are no
cherubs, no haloes, no miracles; we have left the medieval for the modern
world. Caravaggio himself was no angel, and these paintings were amongst those
he created in an unsuccessful attempt at redemption for a murder he committed
in an argument over a tennis match.
By the end
of the eighteenth century, decadence had set in and the Knights had become
corrupt and self-indulgent. Napoleon arrived in 1798 to water his ships, and,
when refused, he conquered the islands with virtually no resistance from the
Knights. When Napoleon’s ships left, just a week later, they were weighted down
with art and treasure looted from the island’s churches. Most of it now lies on
the seabed where Nelson defeated the French fleet at the Battle of the Nile.
The French were so hated as colonial rulers that the Maltese people rose up and
overthrew them; they didn’t want the useless Knights back, they wanted the
British.
Malta became
a highly prized base and staging post of the Empire , and later was particularly important as a hospital
island in World War I. A vital airbase and harbour in World War II, Malta came
under relentless attack by German bombers and its supply lines were blocked at
sea. This was the second Great Siege (1942) and their courage and endurance saw
the entire population of Malta awarded the George Cross, which you can now see
in the War museum. After a long period of difficult rebuilding and recovery,
Malta became an independent nation in 1964. Although still part of the
Commonwealth, with Queen Elizabeth as Head of State, this was the first time in
history that the Maltese had governed themselves. They became a republic in
1974 under the colourful (ie barking mad) Dom Mintoff, then returned to
parliamentary democracy in 1987, and joined the EU in 2002. The latest invasion
seems to be hordes of budget tourists from colder climes, but this one is
welcome, if the fast food outlets and Marks & Spencers stores are any indication..
Phew!
Elements of this turbulent history are everywhere (though the only sign of
Mintoff is a closed down Libyan travel agency), even in the tough, determined
look of many of the people. We’ve taken a couple of bus trips around the
island, and it isn’t hard to imagine the hardship of the wars, raids and
sieges. The island is a lump of limestone with little fresh water and hardly
any fertile soil. One guy told us that Malta was only rich in salt water, wind
and rocks. Given the truth of this, the relative prosperity and vitality of the
island is a credit to its people.
We are here for another few days until the wind settles down, then we'll head up to the island of Gozo, then on to Syracusa - at least that's the plan for the moment.
