Insecure guardians: enforcement, encounters and everyday policing in postcolonial Karachi

thoroughfare in Valletta, the capital city – was renamed Republic Street. And yet, even almost 60 years after independence, Malta is a work in progress, a sovereign state but not so sovereign on the narratives that drive its interpretation of its history. No wonder we cannot agree to have one national day. Of course, the matter is highly complex. Xuereb admits: his book is written in the English language; and here am I critiquing his book in the same language. These facts echo and reflect the hegemony of English as the written word in Malta (and elsewhere). They remind us that at its single national public university, rebranded as L-Università ta’ Malta, the main language of instruction and assessment is overwhelmingly English. The University’s first-ever Language Policy guidelines affirmed the vital role of English as its main language of instruction and assessment, but also upheld the significance of Maltese as the national language and the university’s responsibility towards its broad and correct use. The issue of identity is vexed. The author is keen to raise it as a subject of debate, and would have us, for example, sing the national anthem at school. And remove the George Cross from the national flag. I am wary of such overtures, since identity politics can be manipulated by political elites, and give sway to exclusionary practices and right-wing ideologues which have mercifully not been significant so far, other than as a dark underbelly of racism. But symbols count. Such ruminations are exactly what one hopes for from a book like this. Xuereb weaves the Malta story using a Braudelian longue durée approach, and enriches it with almost one thousand citations and footnotes, including a thorough listing of the many foreign (British) monuments that are found all over Valletta. This is an insightful book, but also a monumental one (pun intended).