The government appears to be pleased that the European Commission has worked out a way to accommodate Malta’s objection to the divorce plans, and hence the threat to block them. How foolish. A careful reading of the subtext or semiotics reveals what the European Commission is really saying: let’s keep these nutters happy in their eccentric little bubble, because once they’re out of the way we can get moving without them.

It’s roughly the way that international forums dealt with Dom Mintoff, when he was prime minister, but with a difference. Mintoff was held off with a large stick and calming voices, but this government is being treated like the leadership of a weird little religious community living slap bang in the middle of a secular state – the Amish in Pennsylvania, for example. The attitude is one of tolerance for religious eccentricity. The government is thrilled; anyone with commonsense and perception should be just plain embarrassed and irritated. Instead, we collude in the pretence that what is happening is normal, because pretending is easier than biting the bullet and getting that divorce legislation over and done with.

* * *

When we travelled and got stuck into conversations in the 1970s and 1980s, we found ourselves having to explain that no, we were not responsible for Dom Mintoff, we did not vote for him, and we really, really opposed everything he did and said. We were at pains to point out that we considered him to be a blight on the country, and not our Great Leader. Now we find ourselves having to explain why Malta has no divorce and that this is not because we, personally, are mad and out of touch with reality. It’s a difficult exercise.

“What do you mean? How can there be no divorce?” “Trust me, there isn’t.” “So people have to stay together when they’re married, even if they don’t want to?” “For heaven’s sake, of course not: they can separate if they want to, and they can also set up home with other partners and have more children.” “If they can do that, why can’t they get divorced? What’s the problem?” “They can’t get divorced because there isn’t a divorce law.” “Why isn’t there a divorce law? Don’t people want to get divorced in Malta?” “Of course they do, just as they do everywhere else in the world.” “Then why doesn’t the government enact divorce legislation?” “Because it doesn’t want to.” “What do you mean, the government doesn’t want to? What kind of government do you have? A far-right dictatorship?” “No, of course not; it’s a freely elected government. Remember that we’re part of the European Union.” “So on what basis does it refuse divorce?” “It says that it isn’t good for society.” “But you just said that people are allowed to separate, set up home with new partners, and have more children. God, there must be terrible confusion if they can’t divorce or remarry.” “Yes, I know that. The real obstacle is the Catholic Church.” “Oh, don’t you have separation of powers?” “Yes, yes, we do, but the Church is a major influence, particularly on this government.” “I can’t believe this, how do people stand for it?” “Simple, we’re used to be being denied our civil liberties and kicked around. We went from one colonial power to another, for centuries, and then straight to almost two decades of Socialist oppression. We’ve only had the last 19 years to learn how to live in a democratic environment, roughly as much as the people behind the Iron Curtain.” “I can’t believe it, it’s crazy.” “Tell me about it; I live there.”

* * *

I once sat in on a similar conversation, in which the sort of Maltese woman who has had little exposure to different ways of looking at things was asked – by a non-Maltese man who was genuinely curious – why Malta has no divorce when every other country does. Her hackles immediately went up. “Look, we decide when we introduce divorce, not anyone else. And if we don’t want divorce, we won’t have it. We decide what’s good for Malta!” Oh dear God in heaven, I sighed to myself. Here we go: rushing to the defence of our country in the misguided belief that this is what patriotism is all about.

“What’s the population of Malta?” the man asked. “Oh, so you mean not one of those 400,000 wants or needs a divorce?” Mrs Braveheart wrapped her faldetta about her and charged into the fray: “Of course some people want it, but it doesn’t mean they have to impose what they want on the rest of us!” I hurriedly refilled my glass, to dull the sensation of watching this silly woman rush headlong down a blind alley. Suddenly, she was being attacked on all fronts, by every person at that table. “Just because there’s a divorce law, you’re not forced to use it. Nobody’s imposing anything on you if you don’t want to get divorced.” “It’s people who think like you who are imposing their views on those who want to get divorced but can’t.” “What next? Is your government going to ban contraception because the Catholic Church doesn’t agree with it?” “So every other country in the world is wrong except Malta?” “And the Philippines!” “The Philippines! Now there’s company to be proud of.”

And then the conversation degenerated, as these things tend to do. Mrs Braveheart in the blind alley became more and more het up and defensive as the argument took a turn into savage teasing. “So where do you keep your Jews in Malta? In ghettoes?” (“We have no Jews in Malta!”) “Are there separate seats for black people on your buses? Do you let them eat in restaurants, or do you have signs up saying ‘No niggers’?” (“The only black people we have in Malta are klandestini, and we don’t like them because of the problems they cause!) “Do the police come knocking on Sunday morning to make sure that you go to church?” “Do they take you to jail for possession of a condom?” “Do you make gay people wear an identity badge?” (“Of course not! We accept gay people!”). I made my excuses, and left.

* * *

If you’ve never lived in Malta, the impression given by its ‘no divorce’ stance is one of a very backward religious community, the contemporary version of the one portrayed in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter. It is virtually impossible to convey to barranin that social reality in Malta is deeply at odds with this impression, and with the fact that there is no divorce. Maltese society today is hugely tolerant and accepting of other people’s personal lives, as long as those people are Maltese (foreigners are always suspect, however exemplary their lives). We have gone from being completely hidebound by the social rules, scared of what the parish priest and the neighbours will think, to a fully-fledged live-and-let-live philosophy. The only fly in our ointment is Gozo.

The homosexual men of my generation left Malta to be able to live their lives, constructed elaborate cover-ups including marriage, or just stayed in the closet until they were in their 30s or 40s. Many homosexual women didn’t know what was going on, and because most girls in those days didn’t have a sexual relationship with their boyfriends before they had a wedding ring on their finger, they didn’t find out until it was too late why they didn’t feel any interest in sex during their six-year engagement. Their poor husbands, on the other hand, found out that the reason they were fought off so assiduously in the back of the car was not because of virtue, but because of an absolute dearth of sexual attraction.

Now gay sons visit their parents for Sunday lunch with their boyfriends, and gay women set up home together. The parents don’t care what the neighbours think because the neighbours probably have a gay son too. Babies conceived before marriage are no longer accidents to be covered up by quick weddings or abortions in Catania and London. They are planned by women in their late 30s who have given up on the thought of ever being married, who don’t want to get married, or who can’t marry the father because one of them is already married to somebody else. Even if the pregnancy is an accident, the baby is a source of pride and joy. Proud grandparents are so thrilled to have a grandchild – grandchildren being increasingly rare – that they don’t give a damn about the circumstances in which it was conceived and born. Maltese women are still having abortions in London and Catania, but not because they are ashamed of their pregnancy.

Twenty years ago, marriages didn’t break up as often as they do now because to be a separata was to suffer social stigmatisation. A woman who left her husband was a whore; a woman who was left by him was a sacrificial victim, a jahasra, doomed to a social life of morning Mass and the parish council, and perceived as a threat by other women because she might tempt their husbands. Now men and women leave their spouses, set up home with others and have more children, and no one blinks. No one bothers, because the social controls of shame, vicious gossip, and fear of the Church and what the neighbours think has gone right of the window – and what a relief that is.

And still, we have no divorce. No wonder those who don’t live here can’t believe the dichotomy between this odd fact, and the reality of life in Malta.

* * *

It should tell the government something that the only organisation to unreservedly applaud its stance against the EU move on divorce was the Republican National Alliance, or ANR. “A government’s first duty is the protection of its society and as long as the absolute majority of the Maltese do not want the legalisation of divorce, then it is the government’s duty to make sure it is not introduced, especially through undemocratic means.” I had to read this sentence twice, because it is ambiguous. Is the ANR encouraging the government to use undemocratic means to prevent divorce legislation, or is its grammar as skewed as its thinking? Either way, praise from the ANR is no praise at all.