Constitutional Development

Cultural Heritage and Tradition in the Constitutional Orders of Italy and Malta

Across Europe, the protection of cultural traditions and pastimes sits at the crossroads between constitutional identity and legislative policy. While all Member States acknowledge culture as a public good, few have given it explicit constitutional status. Italy stands out as a state where culture is embedded in the constitutional text as a foundational value. Malta, by contrast, protects its traditions through statute and policy rather than constitutional law. A comparison between these small Mediterranean states reveals how constitutional design shapes the strength and enforceability of cultural protection — and how both models interact with broader principles of European law.

In Italy, Article 9 of the Constitution occupies a central symbolic and practical role. It declares that “the Republic promotes the development of culture and scientific and technical research” and “safeguards natural landscape and the historical and artistic heritage of the Nation.” This brief clause has evolved into one of the pillars of Italian constitutional identity, second only to the protection of human dignity and democracy. The Constitutional Court has interpreted Article 9 expansively, seeing it not merely as a programmatic statement but as a binding constitutional duty on public authorities. The protection of culture, landscape, and heritage has thus become an enforceable constitutional good, capable of limiting legislative and administrative action.

The 2022 constitutional reform further strengthened this framework, explicitly adding the protection of the environment, biodiversity, and ecosystems “also in the interest of future generations” to Article 9. The reform linked environmental and cultural heritage under a single constitutional ethos — the idea that Italy’s identity rests on the continuity of its landscape, arts, and traditions.

This constitutional culture is reflected in a dense network of legislation, most notably the Codice dei beni culturali e del paesaggio (Legislative Decree 42/2004). The Code translates Article 9 into practice by defining, classifying, and regulating cultural assets, landscapes, and intangible heritage. Interestingly, the Italian model is not purely centralised. The Constitution assigns significant powers to the Regions and local authorities under Title V (Articles 117–118), which divide legislative competences between the State and the Regions. Culture and tourism fall within the category of “concurrent competences”, meaning that while the State lays down the fundamental principles, the Regions enjoy the power to legislate in detail and to promote regional traditions and local cultural practices.

This regional autonomy is vital for Italy’s cultural richness. Local authorities support and regulate traditional events such as the sagre popolari — village fairs celebrating local produce, crafts, or patron saints — as well as historical pageants, dialect preservation initiatives, and folk music festivals. Each Region has its own cultural statutes: for instance, Tuscany and Emilia-Romagna provide funding and legal recognition for traditional community events, while Sicily and Sardinia operate under special statutes granting even broader cultural powers. The sagra popolare thus becomes not only a communal celebration but also an expression of constitutional pluralism — the coexistence of local traditions within a shared national framework. Through Article 9 and regional competences, Italy has constitutionally integrated its living traditions into the structure of the Republic itself.

Malta’s situation is markedly different. The Constitution of Malta (1964) contains no article equivalent to Italy’s Article 9. Cultural protection is mentioned only indirectly in the Preamble, which commits the nation to safeguard “the heritage of the past.” There is no recognised fundamental right to culture, no constitutional duty upon the State to promote or preserve heritage, and no judicial doctrine elevating culture to constitutional rank. Instead, the Maltese system relies on ordinary legislation and policy measures.

The Cultural Heritage Act (Cap. 445 of the Laws of Malta), enacted in 2002, provides the legal foundation for the protection and management of both tangible and intangible heritage. It establishes Heritage Malta and the Superintendence of Cultural Heritage, the principal institutions responsible for preservation and registration. Under this Act, traditional practices — such as village festas, għana (folk singing), carnival, the regatta, or traditional crafts — can be recognised as part of the national heritage inventory. Complementary legislation, including the Environment Protection Act (Cap. 549), covers aspects of landscape and environmental heritage. Malta’s National Cultural Policy (2015, revised 2021) serves as a guiding framework, but it remains a policy document without constitutional force.

This statutory model has important consequences. Cultural protection in Malta depends largely on executive discretion and funding priorities, rather than on judicially enforceable duties. Courts rarely invoke cultural considerations as constitutional values when adjudicating conflicts between development and heritage. The constitutional silence on culture also limits the use of cultural arguments in administrative or constitutional litigation. Where Italy’s Article 9 allows judges to weigh culture and heritage against economic or infrastructural interests, Maltese law offers no equivalent balancing principle at constitutional level.

At the European Union level, the two models interact differently with supranational norms. The EU’s legal framework recognises culture as an area of supporting competence. Article 167 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU) requires the Union to contribute to “the flowering of the cultures of the Member States,” while Article 22 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights obliges respect for cultural, religious, and linguistic diversity. These provisions, though not directly enforceable, shape EU policy and interpretive practice. They give Member States space to justify national cultural measures — for instance, subsidies, preservation laws, or regional protections — as expressions of their national identity, which the EU must respect under Article 4(2) of the Treaty on European Union (TEU).

Italy’s constitutional framework aligns naturally with this European approach: its Article 9 and regional competences provide concrete expression to the Union’s abstract respect for diversity. The Italian model shows how national constitutions can transform cultural policy into a constitutional commitment compatible with EU law. Malta, on the other hand, exemplifies a system where EU-level cultural principles reinforce policy rather than constitutional obligation. The EU supports Maltese initiatives through programmes such as Creative Europe and through recognition of heritage sites and intangible practices, but these remain dependent on political choice rather than constitutional mandate.

Ultimately, the contrast between Italy and Malta illustrates two distinct ways of embedding culture within law. Italy’s constitutionalisation of heritage and regional traditions transforms culture into a legal value of the Republic, linking identity, landscape, and citizenship. Malta’s statutory model reflects a policy-based conception, where culture thrives through institutional commitment and community participation rather than constitutional adjudication. Both approaches, however, belong to a broader European story — one in which traditions, pastimes, and collective memories form part of a shared commitment to identity, continuity, and the democratic value of cultural diversity.

This Is the Record: Malta’s Institutions Are Being Hollowed Out 

Let us begin with a truth that bears repeating: democracy does not die in one fell swoop, but by a series of quiet manipulations, each too technical to stir mass indignation, each cloaked in the language of efficiency, reform, or sovereignty. Malta is not facing an immediate coup. But what it is experiencing is something more insidious: a slow, deliberate capture of the very institutions designed to safeguard the public from arbitrary power. 

This is not a matter of partisan allegiance. It is a matter of record. And the record is clear. 

Over the last decade, Malta’s government has steadily expanded its reach over institutions that were once conceived to act as checks on executive power. The judiciary has found its independence compromised—not with tanks in the streets, but with legislation in Parliament and political appointments cloaked in the veneer of reform. 

One need not speculate. The Venice Commission, the Council of Europe, and multiple rulings from the European Court of Justice have signalled alarm. Judicial appointments were, for years, controlled by the Prime Minister’s office. Though recent changes were made following external pressure, the culture of loyalty and reward remains. Judges rise not merely by merit, but by proximity to power. And when they speak out—if they speak out—they do so at their own peril. 

This is not the natural order of things. It is a design. 

Oversight mechanisms have not been dismantled; they have been neutralised. The Planning Authority now issues permits in defiance of local plans and common sense. Its appeals tribunal, once a citizen’s last recourse, is to be stripped of real power under new legislation that proposes that courts may no longer revoke unlawful permits. Instead, they must refer the matter back to the same authority whose decision was deemed defective. This is not justice; it is theatre. 

What becomes of a nation where wrongdoers can outlast the process meant to stop them? Where court action becomes a maze designed to exhaust, confuse, and bankrupt rather than to protect? In such a nation, impunity is not an accident—it is a feature of the system. 

One may ask: where are the anti-corruption laws? Where are the safeguards? They exist, on paper. But paper burns. Legislation intended to curb corruption has been hollowed out by amendments, delayed by “consultation,” or applied selectively. The Freedom of Information Act remains more honoured in the breach than the observance. Whistleblower protections are limited in scope and rarely invoked. Asset declarations are filed but not verified. And the institutions charged with enforcement—the Commissioner for Standards, the Ombudsman, the Auditor General—are afforded just enough power to seem respectable, and just enough constraint to remain ineffective. 

This is the scaffolding of democratic decay. The façade remains intact: there are courts, there are laws, there are committees. But the substance has shifted. What was once meant to serve the public now serves power. Those who protest are smeared, sued, or ignored. Civil society is tolerated but never embraced. 

This is not a new story. Other democracies have walked this road—Hungary, Turkey, Poland. Their governments too spoke the language of reform. Their leaders too invoked the will of the people as they dismantled the machinery of accountability. 

And let us be clear: this is not about one scandal or one administration. This is about a systemic drift, a deliberate weakening of the structures that make accountability possible. It is about a state that no longer tolerates friction—be it from courts, journalists, NGOs, or ordinary citizens—and seeks instead a smooth path to its ends, unchecked and unchallenged. 

The result is a nation where corruption does not need to be concealed; it thrives in plain sight, protected not by secrecy but by inertia. It is a nation where reform is promised as a shield, and delay becomes a tactic. A nation where outrage has become routine, and resignation replaces resistance. 

But resignation is not destiny. 

Malta is still a member of the European Union. It is still bound by the Charter of Fundamental Rights. The courts in Luxembourg still have jurisdiction. Civil society still speaks, though with growing fatigue. Journalists still report, though some have paid the highest price. The fire has not gone out—but it flickers. 

We must remind ourselves, as Edward R. Murrow once did in darker times, that “a nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves.” The purpose of institutions is not to please the powerful, but to restrain them. The rule of law does not ask whether the law was passed by a majority, but whether it serves justice. 

This is not the end, unless we accept it as such. The law can be restored. Institutions can be rebuilt. But only if we speak plainly, act firmly, and refuse to be lulled into silence by the language of procedural normalcy. 

The time for euphemism is over. 

This is the record. And it is our responsibility to change it. 

The PN does not need saving II

Turning a refusal into an opportunity

Roberta Metsola’s decision not to contest the leadership of the Nationalist Party will disappoint many — and understandably so. Her popularity, international standing, and gravitas would have made her a formidable candidate at a time when the PN is desperate for a resurgence. But sometimes, strength lies not in stepping forward, but in stepping aside.

This refusal is no retreat. It is a recalibration. Metsola’s decision clears the air and clarifies the path ahead. The elephant that loomed large in every speculative conversation is no longer in the room. And with that, the PN stands at a true crossroads — finally unshackled from distractions, free to look inward and chart a path forward.

The party’s woes are deep-rooted, but so too is its potential. What it needs now is not a saviour but a leader. Someone who is willing to do the difficult work of reimagining what the PN stands for — and for whom. Metsola’s step back offers this incoming leader something invaluable: a clean slate. There are no albatrosses hanging from their neck, no power struggles in the wings. Just an open field and a nation that is quietly yearning for a real alternative.

Just like Bernard Grech’s resignation, Metsola’s decision strengthens, rather than weakens, the next PN leader. She remains a loyal ally — a Maltese figure at the helm of one of Europe’s most important institutions, whose voice still carries weight both at home and abroad. The next leader of the PN can move forward knowing they have her support, but not her shadow.

Reinvention will not come easy. It will require political courage, humility, and a genuine connection with the people. But more than anything, it will require freedom — freedom from the ghosts of the past, from the paralysis of nostalgia, and from the illusion that electoral success lies in more of the same.

If properly dealt with, Roberta Metsola’s refusal to run is not the closing of a chapter. It is the turning of a page.

The PN does not need saving

When Bernard Grech finally bowed to electoral gravity and quit as leader of the Nationalist Party (PN) this week, the predictable hunt for a saviour began. Within hours social media timelines were aflutter with pleas for European Parliament President Roberta Metsola to return home and “rescue” the party, MPs were trading endorsements, and columnists dusted off familiar laments about the PN’s existential crisis. But Malta’s oldest political movement does not, in fact, need saving. It needs reinvention.

A leadership carousel that goes nowhere

Since 2013 the PN has cycled through three leaders, each initially hailed as the figure who would close the polling gap with Labour. None succeeded. The latest Times of Malta survey in March 2025 still places the party six percentage points behind Robert Abela’s PL—roughly a 18,700 vote deficit. Worse, polls over the past three years consistently show that while Labour bleeds support, the PN fails to capture disillusioned voters . A fresh face at the helm—Metsola or anyone else—will not reverse that trend if the underlying product remains unchanged.

The fallacy of the messiah leader

Treating the leadership vacancy as a superhero casting call mistakes symptoms for causes. Charismatic leadership matters, but it cannot substitute a coherent ethos. As long as the PN defines itself primarily as “not Labour”, it will grapple for identity and bleed relevance. The politics of emergency—switching captains every electoral cycle—erodes public confidence and demoralises activists who crave purpose, not panic.

As long as it continues to think of politics, of itself, of its mission, in terms of the system that created the destructive duopoly we have today. As long as it continues to define its structural template against the background of the sick politics that have brought a nation to its knees. As long as it does this, the PN will remain the empty carcass that it has become. No matter how many ‘saviours’ are heralded into the party on the wings of partisan enthusiasm.

Rediscovering — and reimagining — values

The PN’s greatest victories were won when it offered a compelling national project: EU membership, economic liberalisation, democratic consolidation. Two decades later those milestones are baked into Malta’s status quo. The party now needs a new raison d’être anchored in 21st century challenges: a green and digital economy, affordable housing, integrity in public contracts, and an education system that prepares workers for AI driven industries.

That requires more than a policy facelift. It demands a mindset shift from siege to service, from factional arithmetic to civic partnership. The PN must speak the language of young renters priced off the property ladder, caregivers navigating inflation, and entrepreneurs stifled by red tape. It must be bolder on good governance reform than Labour, more imaginative on climate action than ADPD, and more socially compassionate than its conservative caricature suggests.

A huge caveat also against those who associate the current battle against the regression in the field of rule of law as some kind of albatross holding the PN down. Those who fall for the ‘negativity’ and ‘holier than thou’ spin as though the battle for liberal democracy is for others to make. Failure to understand the basic duty of a party to underline and subscribe to the essential core values of a democracy is another non-starter.

A blueprint for reinvention

1. Open primaries and transparent financing to detoxify internal patronage networks and give every member a stake in decision making.

2. Policy co creation labs that pair MPs with civil society experts, ensuring proposals are evidence driven and citizen tested before they hit the chamber.

3. Digital first outreach that treats TikTok and Twitch as seriously as TVMs nightly news, meeting voters where they actually spend time.

4. Talent pipelines that prioritise competence over surname, bringing technologists, climate scientists and social policy innovators onto the candidate slate.

5. A servant leader culture in which the new chief acts as convener, not proprietor, of the party’s future.

From self preservation to national service

Malta does not need another leadership beauty pageant. It needs a credible opposition capable of converting protest into progress. That mission will not be fulfilled by pleading for somebody—anybody—to “save” the PN. It will be delivered when the party itself stops asking Who will rescue us? and starts asking How can we serve?

Grech’s departure is an opportunity, not an emergency. If the PN uses this interregnum to revolutionise its purpose and methods, the polling numbers will follow. If it opts instead for another superficial reboot, the country will merely witness the latest episode in a long running tragedy—and switch the channel.

Is Bill 125 challengeable under EU Law?

Wednesday’s protest outside parliament is all about challenging Bill 125. Repubblika has already registered a court protest against the bill, showing a clear intention to use all legal avenues to stop it from coming into effect. One of the main criticisms of the Bill is that it signifies a step back, and not forward, in the protection and safeguard of citizen rights by weakening what has proven to be an effective tool in the control and supervision of executive power.

It has been argued in some circles that one possible avenue of challenging the Bill (or the law once it comes into effect) is by arguing its incompatibility with Malta’s EU obligations. In other words, the law would constitute a breach of EU law. More specifically, the nature of the law would be such that it would constitute a violation of the Principle of Non-Regression. Government exponents have been quick to shoot down this potential avenue of redress, claiming that the aforementioned principle is only applicable to judicial reforms. Bill 125, limited to reforming in genere inquiries, would not fall under that principle – at least that is what they claim.

Since its explicit acknowledgment in the Repubblika judgment (Case C-896/19), the Principle of Non-Regression has emerged as a significant instrument employed by the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) to safeguard the rule of law within the EU. In Repubblika, the Court articulated a clear prohibition on national reforms that diminish judicial independence, reinforcing the idea that once an EU Member State attains certain standards of protection for judicial independence, regressive measures are not allowed.

Following Repubblika, the CJEU has consistently reiterated that maintaining attained levels of judicial independence and rule of law standards is not optional but obligatory for Member States. For instance, this principle was underscored in subsequent rulings, where judicial reforms proposed in various Member States were scrutinized for potentially weakening pre-existing standards.

However, an essential question remains: does this Principle of Non-Regression apply solely to judicial independence, or can it extend to other fields of EU law?

The broader interpretation, emerging from doctrinal debates and scholarly analysis, suggests potential applicability beyond the judicial sphere. Although initially associated explicitly with rule of law contexts, non-regression could logically extend to other fundamental areas safeguarded by EU law, including environmental standards, social rights, and consumer protection. In fact, the broader application aligns with EU objectives to ensure continual progress toward enhanced standards, reflecting an underlying EU constitutional ethos aimed at safeguarding and progressively developing established protections.

Nonetheless, while the theoretical scope for such broader application exists, concrete affirmation by the CJEU outside judicial contexts is yet to materialize definitively. While Repubblika has solidly anchored non-regression within judicial reforms, its extension into broader domains remains a dynamic, evolving area of EU jurisprudence, awaiting further clarification from future case law.

In any case it is not at all a given fact that a potential challenge of the Bill 125 made law based on incompatibility with EU law would be thrown out by the EU court. The principle of non-regression, enshrined in another Malta-related case is clearly ripe for the use against laws such as Bill 125.

This would be even more the case should it be proven that by enacting Bill 125 Malta is failing its obligation under article 19 of the TFUE: “Member States shall provide remedies sufficient to ensure effective legal protection in the fields covered by Union law.” It could be argued that this article 19 obligation encapsulates the citizen’s right to access inquiries that is being curtailed by Bill 125. “The fields covered by Union law” would incidentally include issues such as corruption related to EU funds that may be the subject of such inquiries.

In short, the odds are strongly in favour of any such challenge. I harbour little doubts on the admissibility of such an action and less on its success.

Peace for our time – the 20 year post

Today marks the twentieth anniversary for J’accuse the blog. Twenty years ago I clicked on the Post button for the first time (after 12 failed attempts) and the blog was up and running. That’s a lot of time that’s gone by and in the meantime writing does not feel the same. For years blogging came as a second nature as J’accuse elbowed its space in the national media. Writing daily was second nature, as normal as having breakfast.

What changed recently was the motivation. That feeling of overwhelming helplessness of an uphill battle against misinformation. There was a sudden void of real interlocutors as the public space became monopolized by the loud, the bullies and the manipulators. This was the time of the rapid increase in the rate of backsliding in the rule of law.

We had been the ones to issue the first warnings. I had yelled until I could yell no more that the politics of this nation was fated to recede in a downward spiral. Daphne Caruana Galizia’s assassination precipitated this state of affairs. Seven years ago I switched to writing for The Shift more often and less on this blog. However even that became frustrating. I felt like a broken record, a Cassandra on repeat doomed not to be believed and not to be heard.

And now the New World Order beckons. The world of Trumpian non-sequiturs were a spade is not a spade because Trump says it should not be. The quest for the truth has just become ever so complicated.

Which brings me to the subject of this anniversary post: Peace for our time.

Over the last few days we have heard the Trumpian pitch for “peace” in the what he calls the War in Ukraine. The mantra from the MAGA administration is now that (Ukraine President) Zelensky is only interested in prolonging the war. They say he is too arrogant to accept the terms of peace that Donald Trump has so graciously negotiated. Having humiliated Zelensky in the Oval Office Trump has turned the screw further and seems to be forcing Zelensky to the table to underwrite the “peace” only Trump can guarantee.

Some politicians, among which Malta’s Prime Minister, have no gone on record saying that “Ukraine cannot win this war”. It forms part of a wider assessment made by the PM in the context of the EU debate on rearmament following the evident signs of MAGA’s relinquishing of its defence obligations with its decades old allies. This new spin is framed in terms of peace-loving, peace-seeking propaganda with the idea being that Zelensky’s Ukraine must accept whatever deal is available so long as the guns cease to fire.

Robert Abela, Donald Trump, Viktor Orban are the modern day Neville Chamberlains desperate to sell us the idea of “Peace for our time”. Abela is keen to highglight Malta’s outdated neutrality (a Cold War concept) and his firm determination not to fork out one cent that will be spent on arming a new Europe even if that would mean that Europe is finally no longer dependent on any other force for its own security. Aside from the fact that Abela is very evidently trying to position himself against the warmonger figure of Roberta Metsola that his party has manufactured meticulously there are other issues that are being ignored.

Here are a few facts that the “Ukraine will not win this war” rabble do not want you to understand:

  1. Ukraine is not interested in “winning the war“. This is not a war in the sense that Ukraine did not choose to go to war and never intended to be struggling for survival. This was an Act of Aggression by Russia on Ukrainian soil. Worse, it is a violation of the 1994 agreement when Ukraine agreed to relenquish its share of the Soviet nuclear arsenal in return for guarantees that Russia would respect its borders – guarantees underwritten by… wait for it… the United States and the United Kingdom. The goal of Ukraine and of any self-respecting liberal democracy supporting Ukraine would not be simply to put down the guns but rather a return of the Ukraine to its borders. An unconditional return with the appropriate guarantees.
  2. Peace is not defined by Donald Trump and JD Vance. Especially the “peace” that involves arm-wrestling the victim of aggression into giving up resources to the transaction hungry wolf of a president. That is not peace. It is appeasment. Appeasment of Russia and Russia’s greed. Remember this aggression began with Russia claiming its right to safeguard its citizens who still lived in parts of the Ukraine. Could there be a more stark reminder of the situation of the Sudeten Germans at the time of Chamberlain’s peace for our time?
  3. EU security independence is no longer an option but a must. Putin’s Russia and now Trump’s America have shown that they do not care for the rules of the world order. There is no respect for the sovereignty of other nations and even less for the maintaining of alliances that have hitherto ensured security in the European region. The EU opting for rearmament is an EU that is painfully aware of Trump’s disconnection and is preparing itself to go it alone. Until Trump’s arrival Europe had lived under the safety of a shield that relied on mutual US-EU cooperation. With that shield down there is no option but to prepare for the worst. The sooner Robert Abela’s government realises that our fate is deeply intertwined with the rest of the European community the quicker will they shed the illusion that neutrality will pose a problem for the likes of Trump and Putin.

We need less Neville Chamberlains in this world. Sadly, the world of post-truth also means that there are many who are prepared to believe in “Peace for our time” promises that lead to nowhere.

That’s the truth, if I lie.