Solidarity with every worker
Malta, like many other countries in the world, celebrates International Workers’ Day. As a nation, Malta chose to recognise this day as an opportunity to stand in solidarity with workers to condemn and fight against exploitation and to demand safe and decent working conditions for every worker.
The labour rights many of us enjoy, and take for granted, are thanks to the victories brought about by those who marched before us. Worker activism, the fight to demand equity and economic justice and the commitment to solidarity with all workers have never been more urgent.
A decade ago, the Labour government introduced a cosmopolitan vision for Malta that has brought in rapid socio-cultural change and increased racial and ethnic diversity. This apparent openness to cultural and ethnic diversity represents a particular brand of neoliberal cosmopolitanism. Borders are open to international travel that is young and temporary, fleeting and constantly on the move.
Today, the majority of workers employed in the private sector in Malta are migrant workers. This is by design. There is no single narrative to the experience of migrant workers in Malta. The situation is complex, and there are many layers to the migrant worker experience within and across key industries, from the financial services, to medicine, care, hospitality, the gaming industry and construction.
The context is built on a hierarchy of status and rights, with different levels of support, tolerance and discrimination. The dominant narrative, however, is one that is marked by exploitation and abuse. While it is by now clear that Maltese society has become dependent on migrant labour, the migrant is not expected to benefit from his labour. Their presence in Malta is to serve.
This is not articulated in some kind of code in an effort to cover up underlying racism. No. It is put out there with clarity and purpose. To maintain a standard of living that some of us have become accustomed to – and apparently feel entitled to – we are told that we must accept the labour of, and presence of, migrant workers. If you would like to have your vindaloo delivered to your door, then you should suck it up. And herein lies the limits of Maltese hospitality: migrants are invited, but not welcome; needed, but not really wanted.
As such, servitude and racism are woven into the very fabric of contemporary Maltese society, inviting the
kind of despicable behaviour we continue to be exposed to, such as the most recent bus incident wherein the passenger behaved in such a way to suggest he had some right to insult and throw punches at the driver just because his baseless demands and expectations were not met.
Meanwhile, PN education spokesperson (seriously? you couldn’t make this up) Justin Schembri’s recent remarks were carefully crafted to generate his five minutes of fame. Steeped in racist beliefs, his comments feed into an ideology that supports and reproduces a system of racialised exploitation that is, at best, dehumanising and violent, at worst, deadly.
Such dehumanisation meets economic needs. Every week we hear of another death on a construction site. This reality does not happen in a vacuum; the devaluation of migrant lives establishes the very conditions required to run a greater profit.
It is this simple equation that is cooked into the construction industry and into our broader economic system – and this is why it will keep happening. Racism and xenophobia equal devaluation. Devaluation equals greater profit. Happy days.
Today, Malta depends on a constant supply of disposable labour; the system is designed to bring migrants in and then turf them out. Most foreign workers, particularly low skilled workers, are denied long term migration status. The transient nature of their immigration status renders them vulnerable – this is what bondage looks like in 2024.
How can any worker afford to stand up for their rights as long as their immigration status is tied to their employer? Precarity is part of the system, it feeds off it. The migrant population in Malta is supposed to be temporary – fleeting. As such, our communities are also increasingly fleeting, as our neighbours move in and out in a revolving door based on exploitation and abuse.
How can anyone experience a sense of familiarity, security or community within a context that encourages and profits from constant movement? There is a reason why you are struggling to recognise the community beyond your front door.
The migrants’ presence in Malta, then, is purely utilitarian, they serve an economic purpose, a means to an end. No more, no less. And it is this transactional ethic that should apparently frame our tolerance: we need their labour, so we should be nice. It is a moral framework that lends itself nicely to the consumerist, pumped-up individualism that marks this very particular historical moment. This code of values leaves no space for an ethics of care, respect, solidarity, or sense of community that recognises our interconnectedness and co-dependence.
It is clear that migrant workers face a disproportionate burden in terms of exploitation, abuse and, all too often, racism and hatred. But this is only part of the picture. Economic growth for growth’s sake, comes at a price. This is not about profit; this is about greed.
The invisible hand of the market is being used to choke the life out of all of us. In the end, greed does not discriminate, and, in the end, we all pay a price. Perhaps if you have a vote, then your life is a little more valued but only a little bit – ask the family of Jean Paul Sofia.
Maltese workers, migrant workers, our communities and our environment are all becoming disposable.
The fight for justice for workers, for all workers, has never been more urgent in Malta.
Nothing comes for free. Greed benefits by sowing division, while communities, individuals and the broader ecological context flourishes within an ethos of collaboration, respect and care.
There is so much more that holds us together than financial transactions, labour and contractual interests. Solidarity sows unity – your rights, our rights, dignified working conditions, fair wages and our collective wellbeing, depend on it.
Migrants are invited, but not welcome; needed, but not really wanted*