1. Introduction

Every 8 September, Malta observes Victory Day. Few national celebrations encompass such rich layers of history. This date commemorates the end of the Great Siege of 1565, the French surrender in 1800, and the announcement of the Italian armistice in 1943. It also aligns with the religious feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, known locally as Il-Bambina, which is deeply significant in Maltese devotion and linked to themes of victory. These stories are well-known among Maltese: overcoming formidable challenges, endurance, resistance, and ultimately triumph. Yet, Victory Day could also prompt us to ask: what does victory mean for Malta today?

2. When Victory Feels More Complex

This year’s Victory Day comes just days after the conclusion of a significant criminal trial in Malta. A jury found Yorgen Fenech not guilty of complicity and conspiracy in Daphne Caruana Galizia’s murder, with an 8-1 vote on both charges. This verdict came after the longest murder trial in Maltese history. I do not intend to argue whether the jury was right or wrong here. I also do not wish to revisit a recent case I have already discussed: the Bishop of Gozo’s decision not to take canonical action against Fr Michael Said, who served as an intermediary in the Nadur case. These two matters are fundamentally different. One involves a criminal trial in Maltese courts; the other concerns ecclesiastical authority within the Catholic Church. They should not be confused. Nonetheless, both raise a broader question that interests me even more than the individual rulings themselves.

What do we, as a people, do when an authority gives us some type of answers?

Do we stop thinking? Do we automatically defend the answer because it originates from the institution, political group, or Church authority we identify with? Or do we dismiss it automatically because it originates from an institution, party, or individual we distrust?

Maybe neither response truly signifies victory.

3. We Have Been Taught to Belong

Malta is a tiny country with a remarkable history. For centuries, various powers ruled these islands, including the Knights of St. John, the French, and the British. The Catholic Church held significant religious, social, and sometimes political influence. Later, political parties became key symbols of Maltese identity. This history shaped our traditions, institutions, and sense of self, which remain important today. However, another aspect of our heritage may warrant a closer look: our tendency to define ourselves by the authority or group we belong to.

I am Labour.
I am Nationalist.
I am with the Church.
I am against the Church.

Once the label is selected, there’s often a temptation to delegate decisions to others. However, a mature society can’t operate on this premise. It’s important to differentiate between respecting authority and abandoning our own judgment, and between questioning authority and believing it is always corrupt or malicious. Notably, canon law itself recognises this difference.

Canon law affirms that Catholics, based on their knowledge and ability, have the right, and sometimes the duty, to express their opinions on issues impacting the Church’s welfare (c. 212 §3). This right must be exercised with regard for faith, morals, church leaders, the common good, and personal dignity. Additionally, canon law emphasises that everyone’s good reputation should be safeguarded (c. 220). In other words, Catholic communion does not require intellectual passivity.

• One can respect a bishop while questioning a decision.
• One can respect a court while asking what a case tells us about the functioning of our institutions.

One can change one’s mind when presented with new evidence and information, and one can pose difficult questions without accusing anyone of guilt. This difference is becoming more significant in a nation where public debate often rapidly turns into a battle between opposing camps.

4. Perhaps Victory Is Learning to Think Together

Canon law emphasises the duty of the faithful to promote social justice (c. 222 §2) and reminds lay Catholics of their responsibility for the temporal order (c. 225 §2). Canon law also recognises the freedom of lay people in matters of the temporal order, while reminding them that they must not present their own opinions as though they were the teaching of the Church. In other words, Catholic identity does not require political or social uniformity; it requires responsible freedom of judgement (c. 227). Consequently, Catholics can freely belong to a particular political party, and they are encouraged to engage with societal issues. As Catholics, we should not retreat from such issues or leave complex matters to politicians, bishops, lawyers, or judges. That responsibility belongs to us too.

Perhaps this is where Victory Day can acquire a new meaning. Our predecessors fought visible battles. They endured sieges, occupation, bombardment, hunger and war. The struggles of our generation are different.

• We must learn to resist tribalism. We must resist the temptation to excuse behaviour simply because the person involved is on our side.
• We must resist the equally dangerous temptation to condemn people merely because they belong to the other

We need to become comfortable asking tough questions without fearing it will betray our loyalty—to the Church, our political party, family, or country. Most importantly, we must humbly acknowledge: I believed something yesterday, but now I know more and have changed my view. This is not a sign of weakness but a mark of intellectual growth. We should adopt this mindset as sons and daughters, siblings, parents, citizens, and Catholics.

5. A Victory Worth Leaving Behind

Tomorrow’s Malta will not belong to those who fought the Great Siege, resisted the French, endured the Second World War or struggled for the political and constitutional freedoms later generations inherited. It will belong to our children. And eventually, they will ask what we did with what previous generations handed to us. Archbishop Galea-Curmi spoke beautifully about this in one of his recent homilies.

• Did we simply inherit political colours and old arguments?
• Did we defend institutions because they were ours and attack them because they were theirs?
• Did we remain silent because speaking was uncomfortable?

Or did we slowly start to view ourselves primarily as A PEOPLE — a small nation whose future relies on our readiness to seek justice, uphold human dignity, respect the rule of law, challenge authority responsibly, and listen to one another?

6. Conclusion

Victory Day celebrates moments when Malta has overcome overwhelming forces. Today, the victory Malta needs might be more understated. It is not about triumphing over another country, a political party, or religious critics and defenders. Instead, it is about overcoming the inner part of us that prefers blind acceptance to responsible thinking. The next Maltese victory could be rediscovering how to think collectively as a nation. Such a victory would be truly meaningful and worth celebrating.