This Yearning for 'Europeanness'

I return to the place I once stood nine years ago. This time the air is warmer, unlike the early spring of 2009. Perched in the harbour of St Giljan, a wave of nostalgia sweeps over me. In front of me, a glistening cobalt-blue blanket unfolds before me, extending until the horizon. Behind me, a dry valley of olive trees and cacti fills the void between two ascending streets, and with it, comes a sense of familiarity. It’s not quite like the ‘Europe’ I remembered or imagined, but more like the desert country I used to live in. 

The first time I travelled to Malta, I was still young and naïve and living in Libya. During the dog days there combined with our yearning for the sense of Europeanness again,  my family would take the opportunity to escape and travel to nearby countries in the Southern European coast along the Mediterranean sea. One of those countries we chose was Malta. 

“You can eat pork again and visit churches there,” my Father would say. 

It was his simple way of saying: “You will be back in Europe.” 

The notion of Europeanness is a slippery subject: it is one that is not easily defined or understood. The nature of Europeanness and what constitutes it is perhaps one of the most controversial topics within the geo and socio-political sphere. The concept is frequently regarded as synonymous with modernity, and while Europe bears a multicultural history, its common denominator is civilised diversity in unity. I could not disagree that Malta possesses all three features, yet walking around the city, I do not think of Europe. 

A plethora of questions overwhelm me and I quickly begin to wonder: Why does this place feel less European now in comparison to nine years ago? Is there perhaps something about this place that undermines its Europeanness? What is the authentic and traditional Malta that its people seem to be nostalgic for? Is the Maltese identity a unique culture of its own, or rather a conglomeration of cultural histories manifested on a small island? 

I find it rather interesting, and perhaps slightly upsetting, to consider this place as lacking a culture of its own. The sights, sounds, smells and tastes of this country are heavily reminiscent of my former home, Libya. They both share the same history of being under ancient Greek, Roman, Phoenician and Arab domination. The Maltese language itself, a source of fascination, is strongly akin to Arabic. Walking through the city of Valletta and St Giljan, the influence of globalisation and the Western world is too almost omnipresent.

After reflecting on what changed in my mindset, I managed to gather a few speculations. Perhaps the best description of my view on Malta is that it seems to be a ‘transitional’ space. It appears to be a meta-point between Africa and Europe that extends beyond its geography. Taking into consideration the importance of self-reflexivity as a tourist, I realise that the definition of ‘Europeanness’ can never be neutral or fixed. It is dictated by more than just a set of characteristics (like eating pork and having churches, according to my Father) or shared heritage, but rather the personal experiences in which we subconsciously compare our previous understandings of the world to the new. Nine years ago, when I stepped foot into Malta for the first time, the country felt European to me, simply due to its divergence from the Arabic world. Today, it feels less European when juxtaposed with my current home in Amsterdam. 

Indeed as tourists, we are constantly drawing comparisons; finding similarities, finding differences. To recapitulate the theories regarding the semiotics of tourism, the tourist experience is a constant production of sign relation between marker and sight. I believe these comparisons continue to manifest on a larger scale. We compare countries to other countries; cultures to other cultures; and in the end, we deepen this comparison until experience becomes about recognition. In other words, I recognise Libya in Malta and that is why the sense of ‘Europeanness’ I once experienced seems to have disappeared into nothing but an unstable phrase.