There are provisions in a Constitution which regulate the machinery of a State, and there are others which say something deeper about the character of a nation. Malta's neutrality belongs firmly to the latter. It is not a technical clause sitting quietly in our supreme law; it is part of the political identity Malta chose for itself after centuries in which its strategic position was so often defined by the interests of others.
Our Constitution does not merely declare Malta to be neutral. It speaks of Malta as a neutral State actively pursuing peace, security and social progress among all nations, adhering to a policy of non-alignment and refusing participation in military alliances. That wording matters. It describes an active policy, not an escape from responsibility. It gives a small country the space to speak with its own voice, guided by its Constitution, its people and its own judgement.
A principle born of history and foresight
For Malta, neutrality cannot be separated from history. Our position in the centre of the Mediterranean has always been both an advantage and a burden. It opened our islands to trade, culture and exchange, but it also made Malta strategically valuable to powers much greater than ourselves. Independence changed that reality; the Republic strengthened it; neutrality gave it direction. The essential question was no longer which great power Malta would serve, but how a sovereign Malta would define its own national interest.
The political vision associated principally with Dom Mintoff went far beyond the question of foreign troops or military bases. It reflected the conviction that independence would remain incomplete unless Malta itself decided how it should stand in the world. At a time of blocs and rivalry, Malta chose not to surrender its judgement to either side, but to protect its sovereignty and create room for an independent foreign policy.
The constitutional entrenchment of neutrality in 1987 was important because it moved the principle beyond the ownership of one leader or one party. Its entrenchment reminds us that constitutional maturity is reached when political adversaries recognise that certain national interests must stand above partisan ownership. From that moment, neutrality formed part of the constitutional identity of the Republic.
The constitutional entrenchment of neutrality in 1987 did not emerge overnight. It was the culmination of a wider political and constitutional process which had already gathered momentum in the mid-1980s. When Karmenu Mifsud Bonnici succeeded Dom Mintoff as Prime Minister in December 1984, constitutional discussions with the Opposition were already under way, and Mintoff continued to play an important role in those negotiations. Electoral reform, majority rule, constitutional questions surrounding the Presidency, and the entrenchment of Malta's neutrality and non-alignment became part of a broader search for constitutional agreement. What finally emerged in 1987 was therefore more than the insertion of a clause. It was a constitutional settlement in which neutrality moved beyond the vision of one political leader or one party and became part of the fundamental law of the Republic.
That history is important. It reminds us that constitutional principles of this nature are not normally born in a single sitting or on a single date. They mature through political argument, negotiation and, ultimately, agreement. In Malta's case, the process gave neutrality a significance greater than ordinary policy: it became part of the constitutional identity of the State.
Constitutional principles are not written for comfortable times alone. Their value becomes clearer when governments and societies are placed under pressure. That is precisely why neutrality should not be judged only by the conflict dominating today's headlines, but by the long-term national interest it was designed to protect.
Neutrality is not silence
One of the greatest misunderstandings surrounding neutrality is the belief that it requires silence or indifference. It requires neither. Neutrality cannot mean turning away from aggression, human suffering, breaches of international law or violations of human dignity. A neutral State still has values and obligations. It may condemn wrongdoing, defend international law, support humanitarian action and stand with those who suffer the consequences of war.
What neutrality protects is our independence of judgement. That independence is perhaps the most valuable element of the whole constitutional concept. Malta should not automatically inherit the position of a military bloc simply because pressure exists to do so. It must be free to examine each situation on its merits and to speak according to law, justice and national interest.
For me, this is not merely a constitutional argument. I experienced its practical value during my years as Speaker of the House of Representatives. Malta's neutrality allowed us to approach parliamentary diplomacy with a degree of independence and credibility which should never be underestimated. One example came in 2017, when the Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU) held its Assembly in St Petersburg. Europe had already imposed sanctions on Russia, and relations were strained. Malta did not disregard its European responsibilities, but neither did our constitutional neutrality prevent the Maltese Parliament from remaining present in an international parliamentary forum. I participated in that Assembly because dialogue, particularly when relations are difficult, is not a concession. It is part of the work of peace.
The same principle became even more relevant following the war between Russia and Ukraine. Malta has been clear in its respect for international law, sovereignty and territorial integrity, but our credibility as a country committed to neutrality and dialogue also allowed the Maltese Parliament to contribute directly to parliamentary efforts aimed at keeping channels open. As Speaker, I became actively involved in the Inter-Parliamentary Union Task Force on the peaceful resolution of the war in Ukraine, whose purpose was to facilitate parliamentary dialogue and identify areas where practical progress might still be possible. This included humanitarian questions, the plight of displaced persons and children, and other matters on which communication between the two sides could still serve a human purpose.
That experience reinforced a conviction I have long held: neutrality is valuable not because it allows us to remain outside difficult questions, but because it can place us in a position to enter them differently. It does not absolve Malta from taking a position where international law is concerned. What it can do is preserve a measure of trust, allowing a small country to speak, to listen and, where possible, to help bring opposing sides closer to practical solutions. That is where neutrality moves beyond rhetoric and becomes an instrument of peace.
There is nothing weak about such a position. A small country earns little by borrowing the vocabulary of greater powers if, in doing so, it loses the credibility of its own foreign policy. Neutrality is not moral ambiguity; it is diplomatic responsibility.
The world in which we live today makes this principle more relevant, not less. Military expenditure is rising, rivalries between major powers are deepening, and armed conflicts again dominate international affairs. Yet behind every geopolitical calculation stand ordinary people: families facing higher costs, children growing up amid destruction, workers losing livelihoods and whole communities paying the price for decisions taken far from them.
The modern world speaks constantly about the future, but too often it speaks about the future of some and not the welfare of all. Peace that protects only the prosperous, and progress that enriches only the powerful, cannot be the final measure of civilisation.
Malta, precisely because it is small, has every interest in defending an international system based on law rather than force. Our influence does not lie in military strength. It lies in credibility, diplomacy, multilateralism and the ability to maintain dialogue with countries that may profoundly disagree with one another. For a small State, international law is not an abstract ideal; it is one of the principal safeguards against a world in which strength alone decides what is permissible.
The Constitution as our national compass
Having served for many years in the House of Representatives, including 13 years as Speaker, I have always regarded the Constitution as far more than a legal document. It is the framework within which power is exercised and restrained. It establishes our democratic institutions, protects fundamental rights and freedoms and lays down principles which must outlive the government of the day. A Constitution is most valuable not when everyone agrees, but when disagreement is governed by rules stronger than the passions of the moment.
Governments change, parliamentary majorities change and international circumstances change. The Constitution provides continuity. That is one reason why it is so dear to us. It reflects the political experience through which Malta achieved self-government, independence, republican status and the democratic institutions we too easily take for granted.
We should therefore be cautious whenever fundamental constitutional principles are treated as temporary obstacles. The question should never be whether a principle is convenient today, but whether the reason for which it was placed there has ceased to exist. In the case of neutrality, I believe the reasons have become stronger rather than weaker. The return of great-power rivalry does not make neutrality obsolete; it makes the discipline and independence behind it more demanding.
Malta is deeply engaged in the international community, through the European Union, the United Nations, the Commonwealth and many other organisations. That engagement has not contradicted our neutrality. On the contrary, it has demonstrated that neutrality does not prevent Malta from taking positions on international law, peace, human rights and humanitarian questions. It simply ensures that those positions remain anchored in Malta's own constitutional order.
There will always be those who consider neutrality a concept from another era. I take the opposite view. A more divided world requires more countries capable of keeping channels open. A Mediterranean surrounded by tension needs bridges. Diplomacy has not exhausted its purpose merely because confrontation has become fashionable.
Neutrality does not mean that Malta must have no opinion. It means that Malta must retain its own opinion. It means pursuing peace without surrendering principle, defending law without glorifying war, and preserving the possibility of dialogue even when dialogue becomes difficult.
Every generation receives the Constitution temporarily. We inherit it from those who came before us and hold it in trust for those who will follow. Malta is a small nation, but that has never meant that our principles must also be small. The architects of our neutrality understood something which the modern world risks forgetting: peace is not simply the absence of war. Peace has to be constructed, protected and constantly pursued.
If our neutrality allows Malta to keep one more door open, build one more bridge and place the common good before the ambitions of the powerful, then it is not an inheritance whose usefulness has passed. It remains a living constitutional choice: a declaration that Malta's sovereignty is best defended not by withdrawing from the world, but by engaging with it on terms faithful to our history, our law and our belief in peace.
Dr Anglu Farrugia is Former Speaker of the House of Representatives of Malta