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  <title>OAR@UM Collection:</title>
  <link rel="alternate" href="https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/32589" />
  <subtitle />
  <id>https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/32589</id>
  <updated>2026-06-28T14:28:46Z</updated>
  <dc:date>2026-06-28T14:28:46Z</dc:date>
  <entry>
    <title>A voice in the wilderness : Manwel Dimech and the education of the Maltese proletariat</title>
    <link rel="alternate" href="https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33264" />
    <author>
      <name>Zammit-Marmara, Desmond</name>
    </author>
    <id>https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33264</id>
    <updated>2018-09-01T01:48:58Z</updated>
    <published>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</published>
    <summary type="text">Title: A voice in the wilderness : Manwel Dimech and the education of the Maltese proletariat
Authors: Zammit-Marmara, Desmond
Abstract: Manwel Dimech (1860-1921) was a man ahead of his times. His ideas, such as&#xD;
the independence of Malta, the emancipation of Maltese women, compulsory&#xD;
education for Maltese children, and many progressive goals that he strove for,&#xD;
have all become a reality, but long after his death. Dimech is today mostly&#xD;
remembered as a social reformer, an anti-clerical and anti-Imperialist writer&#xD;
whose critical voice was silenced by the British Colonial administration in&#xD;
collaboration with those Maltese reactionaries to whom the ideas of Dimech&#xD;
were anathema. It is surprising, therefore, that Dimech's unceasing initiatives&#xD;
towards the education of the Maltese proletariat have, to date, been largely&#xD;
ignored.</summary>
    <dc:date>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</dc:date>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Maltese teachers and the politics of engagement</title>
    <link rel="alternate" href="https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33263" />
    <author>
      <name>Galea, Simone</name>
    </author>
    <id>https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33263</id>
    <updated>2018-09-01T01:48:44Z</updated>
    <published>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</published>
    <summary type="text">Title: Maltese teachers and the politics of engagement
Authors: Galea, Simone
Abstract: One of the main differences that Horkheimer (1976) highlights when distinguishing between critical and traditional theory is that unlike the latter, the former is constantly aware of the social context which gives rise to it, as well as of the practical context of its application. While traditional theory believes itself to be 'value-free', critical theory is explicitly concerned with engaging the world as it is, in order to imagine a world as it could and should be. Critical theory is therefore mainly concerned with the political interest in liberating human beings from conventional thoughts and practices. Its main task is to unmask the constraints pertaining to particular social, political and cultural contexts so that people free themselves from the rules of habit, prejudice and superstition and gain the power to become self-determining agents. From this point of view, social organisations such as schools are not inert structures to which teachers and students ought to conform. The rules and regulations that govern institutions are socially constructed, that is they have been made by human beings over time. If these 'man' -made rules do not respond to democratic needs and hopes, then they must be reconstructed in view of alternative aspirations. Teachers have an important part to play in the project of social change. They are responsible for educating citizens, and are therefore in a privileged position to intervene in the evolution of people (students, parents), institutions (schools) and society more generally. They can be empowering agents if they are politically active in struggling for a more democratic society (Giroux, 1988; Shor, 1992). In order to do so teachers not only have to reflect critically upon their activities within the contexts of classrooms and schools: they also have to relate such experiences to the wider socio-political context. They need to be able to historically and socially locate their own practice, that is they need to understand those processes which, over the years, have created the conditions under which they labour. Schools and teachers are involved in participating in - as well as constructing - 'life-forms' . Educators cannot but be critically aware of the cultural and socio-political practices that constitute their work places if they are to imagine alternative life-forms, other possible ways of living together in a more just environment. It is quite impossible to have democratic societies without democratic environments in schools - but it is also difficult to imagine democratic schools in a society which h~s abandoned democratic values. Problems encountered in both spheres have to be addressed simultaneously due to the complex interrelationships between the two. As has been argued by Sultana in the previous chapter, teachers tend to dismiss anything that has to do with the term 'politics', thinking that by so doing, they will be more free from the influence that political parties might have on the formal educational process. Party politics in Malta as elsewhere has a great influence on what goes on in schools and classrooms and has frequently imposed limits to what educators can do (see Mifsud, Chaper 3 this volume). But when teachers act as if the schools and politics were separate, they are unwittingly permitting the organised political forces to exercise their influence and to promote their interests in the educational sphere. Moreover, when teachers negate the political dimension of their work, they are unconsciously supporting and reinforcing the common belief that no one can do anything to resist the limits imposed by social and political organisations in our society. In other words, teachers' dismissal of the very real relationship between politics and education transmits a pernicious and powerful message, namely that the way a particular social order is constructed is not worthy of critical and purposeful interrogation, but that rather rules and life-forms that are imposed from above have to be fatalistically accepted. Education, as a consequence, becomes an induction into a culture of submission. But this is contrary to what is expected of educational institutions in a true democracy, where it is the culture of dialogue, participation, and direct involvement in decision-making that should&#xD;
be the norm. As several of the chapters in this volume have shown, teachers in Malta tend to reflect rather than contest the culture of submission that is one of the most damaging legacies of our colonial history. However, before we can address the practical question regarding the ways teachers' practices can be reconstructed, it is necessary to first engage a series of other questions, such as: Why do teachers - and many other categories of persons who live in a&#xD;
political democracy - feel repulsion towards politics? What are the repercussions of such a reaction? What is the relationship between the educational work of teachers and the socio-political context that surrounds and informs them? What are the limits encountered by teachers in view of the project of democracy, and what can they do to overcome them? In an attempt to answer these questions I will draw upon the theories of Jiirgen Habermas (1971;1973), an emancipatory theorist who has looked closely at the way political organisations operate in modem democracies. His writings have important implications for the way we consider schools and teachers, particularly if we are to adopt the view outlined earlier, namely that the world we inhabit is a socially constructed one rather than a god-given, unchangeable reality to which we must conform. Such an awareness can be considered as the initial step in what Freire (1972) refers to as the 'conscientisation' process, where citizens recognise that the social world is ordered in ways that work out in the interest of specific groups. As Ginsburg and his colleagues note, 'At its core politics is intimately linked to power, in both its structural and ideological dimensions. Politics thus involves exercising the capacity to get people to do&#xD;
something, or not to do something, or to not even consider doing something such that their action or inaction is contrary to their interests. Politics is also concerned with the control of the means of producing, reproducing, consuming,&#xD;
and accumulating material and symbolic resources. Politics is about who gets what, when, and how' (Ginsburg et al. 1992: 417-8). But understanding and interpreting how the world works is not enough. That knowledge ought to lead&#xD;
to political engagement, a collective mobilisation of all those who have democracy at heart to bring about a more just and equitable order.</summary>
    <dc:date>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</dc:date>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Dun Gorg Preca and the democratisation of knowledge</title>
    <link rel="alternate" href="https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33261" />
    <author>
      <name>Sultana, Ronald G.</name>
    </author>
    <id>https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33261</id>
    <updated>2022-05-09T10:12:53Z</updated>
    <published>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</published>
    <summary type="text">Title: Dun Gorg Preca and the democratisation of knowledge
Authors: Sultana, Ronald G.
Abstract: Gorg Preca was born in 1880 and died in 1962. His life therefore spans the&#xD;
most intensely active period of British presence in Malta on the one hand, and&#xD;
the formal,political independence of the islands in 1964 on the other. Working&#xD;
on the premise that one cannot understand or appreciate human action and&#xD;
achievement unless this is located historically, it is important that readers refer&#xD;
to Chapters 2 and 17 for in sights into the state of education that prevailed at&#xD;
the turn of the 20th century when Preca launched his initiatives. I will, in this&#xD;
context, only highlight some of the most relevant developments in education&#xD;
at that time in order to situate the subject of this essay. I will then identify and&#xD;
briefly discuss the qualities in Fr. Preca' s activities that make him a role model&#xD;
for those who are willing to engage with the educational project promoted in&#xD;
this book, namely his commitment to the democratisation of knowledge, his stance vis-a-vis the learner, his readiness to reach out to communities and work&#xD;
at the grass roots level, and his conviction that given the right pedagogical&#xD;
approach, difficult knowledge could be communicated to all learners, whatever&#xD;
their social or educational background.</summary>
    <dc:date>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</dc:date>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Teachers and the struggle for democracy : educators as political actors</title>
    <link rel="alternate" href="https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33260" />
    <author>
      <name>Sultana, Ronald G.</name>
    </author>
    <id>https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/33260</id>
    <updated>2018-09-01T01:48:33Z</updated>
    <published>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</published>
    <summary type="text">Title: Teachers and the struggle for democracy : educators as political actors
Authors: Sultana, Ronald G.
Abstract: If, as has been argued so far, education is intimately linked to issues that have&#xD;
to do with power and the struggle over agendas linked to different conceptions&#xD;
of democratic life - in schools and outside of them - then it follows, as surely&#xD;
as night follows day, that teachers are necessarily political actors. When&#xD;
educators claim that 'politics must be left out of schools', what they usually&#xD;
mean is that partisan politics should not be allowed to intrude in the process of&#xD;
learning, that students should not become victims of the political views of&#xD;
teachers, or of governments for that matter. And of course, that kind of claim&#xD;
is, in theory, correct, for as has been argued in Chapter 1 and in several other&#xD;
chapters in this volume, the kind of education that we are after is one that helps&#xD;
students develop a critical social intelligence which helps them decode and&#xD;
interpret what is happening around them, and which reduces the possibilities&#xD;
of young people being subject to manipulation of any sort. The problem is&#xD;
. that, if we had to dig a little deeper, and if we had to draw on the insights&#xD;
developed in several of the preceding chapters, we would have to conclude&#xD;
that education cannot but be political, and that teachers are, willingly or not,&#xD;
involved in socialising students into world views that have political implications&#xD;
(Ginsburg et al., 1992).&#xD;
A few examples will suffice. Imagine a teacher who asks students to stand up&#xD;
when she enters the classroom. Nothing very political about that, one might&#xD;
say. But let us consider the messages that are implicitly being given to students:&#xD;
for instance, that teachers are authority figures, worthy of respect; that one has to show such respect publicly and regularly, and that one has to submit openly&#xD;
to such authority. I am not making a case that teachers should not ask students&#xD;
to stand up. I am just claiming that this expectation is rich with political&#xD;
significance, and helps to promote a world view in which authority and&#xD;
hierarchical relations are 'normal' and acceptable features of life. Another&#xD;
example: a primary school teacher needs to move a desk from its place. He&#xD;
calls Peter to help him, despite the fact that Grace has volunteered to help.&#xD;
Nothing earth-shattering about that, but again, the political implications are&#xD;
important, for girls are constructed as being physically weak. They are being&#xD;
told either that they are not capable of handling heavy objects, or that it is&#xD;
inappropriate and not quite feminine for them to do so. That too is political, as&#xD;
is the obverse, i.e. if a teacher expects girls and boys to move beyond the&#xD;
traditional gender stereotypes that govern the social setting they inhabit, or if a&#xD;
teacher decides to treat students in a manner that is not hierarchical. Even&#xD;
doing 'nothing' is a political act: when a teacher, for instance, does not contest&#xD;
the validity of examinations, even if s/he does not believe in their utility, s/he&#xD;
is helping to uphold their very existence. It seems that teachers, therefore, like&#xD;
other human beings, are 'political animals', they cannot be neutral, and their&#xD;
actions and non-actions will work in the interests - or against the interests -&#xD;
of the young people they are responsible for.&#xD;
Of course, the examples I have given, taken on their own and out of context,&#xD;
seem trite. But school life is made up of several such examples, all of which&#xD;
add up to the development of specific life-forms, and what is sometimes referred&#xD;
to as the character or 'ethos' ofthe school. As they go abouttheir work, teachers&#xD;
are obliged to choose from a range of possible alternatives that have to do with&#xD;
what to teach, how to teach, how to assess, which social relations and structures&#xD;
they wish to promote, and so on. The fact that we are often not aware of these&#xD;
alternatives does not mean that they do not exist, or that we do not have 'the option to act otherwise' (Giddens, 1984). It could mean that we are so encapsulated in a common-sense world that we do not even imagine that the&#xD;
situation could be constructed differently. Or perhaps it could be that we do&#xD;
see the possibilities of alternative action, but we are too afraid to challenge&#xD;
tradition, beliefs, the status quo. Why should we do that after all? And do we&#xD;
have the right to 'confuse' children's and young people's minds, problematising&#xD;
what often is a difficult existence anyway (Young, 1990), by questioning gender&#xD;
roles, for instance, or by giving them messages that create conflict with what&#xD;
they learn at home, at Church, in other classes?&#xD;
These are very serious issues, and are not easily resolved. But if we want to&#xD;
take our role as intellectuals seriously, that is if we want to develop the ability&#xD;
and the courage to engage with the world as it is, and to challenge it rather than&#xD;
acquiescently accept it - then we cannot be happy with an unexamined life,&#xD;
with a view of teaching that aspires only to pass on a pre-determined curriculum,&#xD;
or with a 'professional' life that is content with diplomatic friendliness with&#xD;
colleagues, where controversial issues and conflict are avoided, and where&#xD;
fulfilment is sought in a retreat in the classroom, where the institutional and&#xD;
national politics that define the context are ignored. A teacher who has&#xD;
intensified his or her awareness of the problematic nature of schools, who&#xD;
recognises the significance and importance of real issues such as those identified&#xD;
by the group of researchers in this book, cannot but wish to make a positive&#xD;
difference to children's lives, and cannot but wish to do so by furthering the&#xD;
growth of social contexts, inside and outside of schools, that are characterised&#xD;
by such values as democracy, caring, solidarity, equity, fairness and so on. In other words, teachers not only cannot but be political, they need to be political&#xD;
in the most self-conscious manner in classrooms and schools, as a professional&#xD;
body and as citizens in the wider community, contributing, as transformative&#xD;
intellectuals, to the building of democratic practices in as many social sites as&#xD;
possible (Giroux, 1988a, b). In the next sections, I will develop this theme,&#xD;
looking at the political work of teachers both in the micro-context of the school,&#xD;
and in the larger, institutional and community contexts.</summary>
    <dc:date>1997-01-01T00:00:00Z</dc:date>
  </entry>
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