Introduction

This article addresses the theme of adult learning and education (ALE) in the Mediterranean. It does so from the perspective of a writer who was born, raised and currently lives in “southern” Europe. The ever-changing demographic setup of this region presents particular challenges, including that of overcoming deep-seated antagonistic dispositions towards others by autochthonous populations. The term autochthonous is widely used, especially in the social sciences, for those locals boasting a long historical presence in a territory (often claiming belonging that can be traced back several generations). They distinguish themselves from recent migrants and possibly even colonists. This antagonistic disposition is often reflected in (mis)representations of the “other” in different areas, such as cultural heritage, popular art and fiction, often with xenophobic fears of “Armageddon” (a potentially catastrophic conflict bringing an end to an established “race” or group of people) that involves alterity or otherness.

In this article, I argue that ALE plays a key role in addressing the challenges faced by critical engagement with identities and crossing borders in the Mediter-ranean. Underlying the discussion is the key question of whether, despite the diversity of cultures, economies and educational profiles of countries in the Mediterranean region and surrounding Basin (which includes parts of Europe, Africa and Asia), a distinctive “Mediterranean” approach to ALE can be discerned. The analysis explores historical and contemporary landmarks (features) of ALE in the region, locating these in the context of other insights from the field of education more globally. It also seeks to answer the further question of whether ALE can generate a more meaningful approach to intercultural engagement. I argue that this is an urgent question to address, given the ever-increasing migration flows via the Central Mediterranean routeFootnote 1 to Europe (Mayo and Pisani 2022).

The Mediterranean

“The Mediterranean” is very much a construct, and a cultural–political one at that, rather than a simple geographical expression. There is a tendency to project the region ethnocentrically, focusing on European cities such as Barcelona. An example is the Barcelona Process (or Euro-Mediterranean Partnership)Footnote 2 (CoEU 1995), which often means extending the European region further “south” of its borders facing “North” Africa. Note that “south” and “north” are also constructs; for this purpose, throughout the article I place these terms in quotation marks. This is also illustrated by Arab tapestries on display in the Alcázar (royal palace) of Seville. In these ta-pestries, the spread of Arab and Muslim cultures is depicted as streaming downward along the map of the region rather than upward. The modern-day hegemonic mindset tends to represent the Mediterranean within a Eurocentric imaginary; therefore, any represented flow of these cultures is depicted as being in the opposite direction.

The counter discourse is to attempt to highlight the region’s features in keeping with what can loosely be identified with “the South”, including parts of the “Global South” – as in the “South–North” construct. Given my social location in the part of the Mediterranean that falls under Europe (Malta, my country of birth and where I continue to live, is, as of 2024, a European Union member state [EUMS]), I am wary of falling into the trap of regarding the region ethnocentrically.

As pointed out by the French AnnalesFootnote 3 historian Fernand Braudel (1966 [1949], p. 26), the Mediterranean, surrounded by mountains, is an almost landlocked area, lying between “southern” Europe, “North” Africa and “Southwest” Asia. There are approximately 23 countries in this region, including Palestine and the Northern Republic of Cyprus, the latter recognised only by Türkiye. Northern Cyprus has been under Turkish occupation since the 1974 Greek military-instigated coup against then President Makarios. If we add Portugal, more because of climate and culture than its bordering sea (it lies on the Atlantic), and the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar, the number of countries would be larger (Guimarães et al. 2018) Furthermore, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) regards Israel, geographically located in the Middle East, as part of Europe. In writing for a UNESCO journal, I shall follow this institution’s classification.

According to Braudel (1966 [1949]), climate shapes cultural production and rhythms of life. It also establishes some uniformity:

... it is of great importance that the Mediterranean complex should have taken its rhythm from the uniform band of climate and culture at its centre, so distinctive that the adjective “Mediterranean” is usually applied (ibid., p. 231) … Everywhere can be found the same eternal trinity: wheat, olives and vines, born of the climate and history; in other words an identical agricultural civilization, identical ways of dominating the environment (ibid., p. 236).


A variant of the subtropical climate, the Mediterranean climate is generally characterised by warm to hot, dry summers and mild to cool, often-wet winters. This, in large part, though not exclusively, helps to foster similar ways of life, in terms of climate, colours, landscapes and vegetation (ibid., p. 235). Events and landmarks throughout history have also resulted in a certain amount of hybridisation. More recently, the European Union (EU) has played a prominent role. This hybridisation has led to certain rhythms of life being superimposed, which sometimes strike a discordant note with those traditionally connected to the Mediterranean. In addition, some insipid, racist stereotypes exist about the “southern” and/or Arab “other”, particularly held by those living in “northern” or “central” European quarters, which reflect a degree of assumed “positional superiority” (Said 1978).

The Mediterranean witnessed a decline in global geopolitical importance after 1492, tempered by oil discoveries in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA). While “exchange” (trading) was, according to Braudel (1966 [1949]), la longue durée (of long duration) throughout a considerable part of the region’s history, the Mediterranean Basin was also the site of struggles with confronting fleets of armed men, which left its mark on the surrounding cultures. The potential for conflict has, more recently, rendered the Mediterranean an important focus of international relations. Before then, the main focus had been on “East–West” relations. The 1975 Helsinki conference on security and co-operation in Europe (CSCE) represented the turning point. The Helsinki negotiations had eventually accepted to include, and this only at the eleventh hour, an additional chapter to the Helsinki Final Act – a novel document on Mediterranean security and co-operation (see Helsinki 2015 Team 2015, pp. 97–99), still remarkably relevant today. This was due to Malta’s strenuous diplomatic strategy throughout calling also on member and non-member Mediterranean states to cooperate for disarmament, co-operation and conflict reduction in the Mediterranean (CSCE 1975). A record of these diplomatic endeavours and final breakthrough is found in this 40th anniversary presentation (Helsinki 2015 Team 2015). The Helsinki Accords called on non-member states to cooperate for nuclear disarmament and conflict reduction in the Mediterranean.Footnote 4

Adult education in the Mediterranean

I hope to demonstrate through this article that the Mediterranean region has had and continues to have its fair share of significant ALE moments and processes (landmarks). These are often hybrid experiences with a strong presence of “grassroots”-based efforts. Much ALE in the region has emerged from the existential situations of specific communities and their ordinary struggles, interspersed with borrowed and hopefully adapted or reinvented experiments from outside; at times, however, it has been imposed and/or financially induced. In the Mediterranean, “Northern”/”Central” European-conditioned forms of lifelong learning (LLL) coexist alongside communal learning traditions, with the degree of imposition or blending depending, especially in EUMS, on the existing financial conditions.

In addition, educational policies, no matter how sharply formulated in their governing documents, do not always travel smoothly through different levels of gover-nance, from the supranational epicentre (e.g. the EU) to national, regional, district and territorial centres (e.g. Italy’s territorio approach) to municipal localities down to specific ALE sites. As part of this process, different rounds of negotiations and mediations occur, often resulting in policy transmutations.

Funding and relevance of ALE in the Mediterranean

Different levels of government provide various sources of funding for adult and popular educationFootnote 5 in the Mediterranean – from regional and municipal governments (as in the Deputació and Ayuntamiento in cities within the Generalitat Valenciana [Government of Valencia]) to local village and town councils (as in Palestinian community-based centres for youth and adult education in the towns of Karmel, Yamoun and Arraba). In the Palestinian context, these centres are assisted by foreign donor agencies (e.g. DVV International), the Ministry of Education, Ministry of Women’s Affairs, universities (e.g. Dar al Kalima, Bethlehem) and local business interests in parts of the West Bank (Duke et al. 2021, p. 237).

In many cases, funding is provided by central sources, such as in the EUMS of Slovenia, part of a DVV International study into the public financing of ALE (Duke et al. 2021). The author of the relevant section in the study report, Nevenka Bogotaj, writes that 20% of the funding for non-formal education comes from the Slovenian Ministry of Education, Science and Sport, and other ministries such as Labour and Social Affairs (37%). Less than half the amount in the budget is reserved for popular education. Other funding sources for member states such as Slovenia include the EU (through the European Social Fund, Erasmus and Interreg), and a small amount from municipalities and private ALE providers (Duke et al. 2021, p. 166). There is the usual imbalance between urban and rural centres, although sustainable development efforts highlight the plight and needs of the latter (ibid., p. 168). There are also popular private initiatives from outside the Mediterranean, such as Swedish “study circles”,Footnote 6 that have been reinvented to suit the Slovenian context. The bulk of funding, however, is regularly spent on ALE for the acquisition of vocational competences, as attested to by statistics in the report for 2018 and 2019 (ibid., p 167).

Historical experiences of ALE in the Mediterranean

It is helpful to examine specific local historical experiences of ALE for their originality, popular relevance and contextual roots. Being communal, these experiences often have a collective and holistic dimension which does not easily fit into contemporary “Global North” funding rubrics (e.g. EU programmes). Instead, they can be an alternative to the hegemonic individual LLL approach which is based on market and individual (not social) responsibility – that is, the self-interest mantra of neoliberal ideology.

Furthermore, the setting and pace for this type of learning is conditioned by the climate features found throughout the Mediterranean. Cultural manifestations, having overt or covert underlying learning dimensions, cannot be divorced from their climate conditioning. This aspect of education needs to be given due importance in contemporary sociological research in education, including ALE. However, while climate is an important dimension to consider, it is not the only one; few things are monocausal and we do not want to risk being reductionist and over-deterministic.

These factors need to be borne in mind as we explore ALE initiatives intended to foster greater understanding and mutual valuing of people from different cultures, who are, despite historical antagonism, attempting to live in the same geographical space as a result of strong migration flows. To this end, ALE is able to draw on a greater knowledge of different traditions of learning that have been carried across the globe – a “portability of cultures”. In this article, I limit myself to the portability of ALE traditions across the Mediterranean. As already mentioned, the Central Mediterranean route is key for migration in this region.

Literature on ALE in the Mediterranean

With a few notable exceptions, the Mediterranean, especially the “South” Mediterranean, is given scant attention in the available English-language ALE literature. One of the first major volumes on ALE in the region resulted from a conference held in Malta, in 1984, on “Lifelong Education Initiatives in the Mediterranean”. It was organised in connection with UNESCO and brought together scholars and activists from Algeria (Mustapha Haddab), France (Asher Deleon), Greece (George Papandreou), Italy (Maurizio Lichtner), Malta (Godfrey Baldacchino, Evarist Bartolo, Ugo Mifsud Bonnici, Saviour Rizzo), Portugal (Alberto Melo), Spain/Catalonia (Joan Bofill) and YugoslaviaFootnote 7 (France Vreg) (Wain 1985). Their various papers were presented at the conference alongside others by scholars from outside the Mediterranean (from countries such as Iran and the United States of America), and more general ones by UNESCO’s Head of its then Lifelong Education Unit, Ettore Gelpi (Gelpi 1985) and host convener, Kenneth Wain (who presented on “Lifelong Education and Participation: An Introduction”; this was also the title of the introduction to the subsequent Malta conference proceedings book he edited – Wain 1985).

The Mediterranean dimension of the Malta conference was partly characterised by a focus on ALE for participation in the context of three “southern” European countries that had recently emerged from periods of dictatorial rule: Greece, Portugal and Spain. Their Western-representative democratic experience was then barely ten years old. The papers reflected enthusiasm for the roles that popular education (Melo 1985), community learning (Bofill 1985) and self-learning/automorphism (Papandreou 1985) played as forms of democratic ALE, often in a more holistic learning context. This was a rare compendium highlighting ALE for a participatory democracy in different Mediterranean contexts.

Other compendia with a focus on the Mediterranean in ALE were produced by DVV International, which brought together practitioners and academics in ALE in a series of seminars in Cyprus (Aya Napa in 2002 and Larnaca in 2004), Malta (Sliema in 2003) and Egypt (Alexandria in 2005) to discuss issues in adult education from eastern and southern Mediterranean perspectives. Participants from Morocco, Syria, Egypt, Cyprus, Malta, then Serbia and Montenegro, Macedonia, Croatia, Slovenia, Turkey, Spain, Italy and Israel made their presence felt. These seminars were distinctive as they comprised insights from different sides of the region, not just predominantly “southern” Europe. Issues tackled included adult literacy, faith-driven literacy, literacy retention, ALE for social integration of new Jewish immigrants in Israel (Rubenstein and Friedlander 2002). These issues were captured in two published conference proceedings in the DVV International series, “International Perspectives in Adult Education” (Mayo et al. 2002; Caruana and Mayo 2004).

A special effort was made in these seminars to highlight transversal and contrasting issues in the Mediterranean, such as a focus on basic literacy and literacy retention in Arab countries (Saida 2004). Also emphasised were the pressures of salvaging communal education in light of the imposition of “North-ist” LLL agendas in Mediterranean countries (Puigvert 2004), mainly because of their membership of or aspiration to join the EU. The tension in the latter case was often between community and individual (self-enrichment) ALE, or between the old UNESCO concept of a broad “humanistic” Lifelong Education (LLE), which allowed scope for community education, and the EU-driven “employability”-oriented LLL. This seminar series, which initially promised to develop into a Mediterranean network of ALE – to resuscitate an earlier thwarted effort, by Paolo Federighi and others, to develop a Mediterranean Adult Education Association – never took off following the retirement from DVV International of its Deputy Director Michael Samlowski. However, it did leave a legacy of two conference proceedings booklets, adding to the scant literature on ALE in the Mediterranean.

The early to mid-2000s saw an affirmation of the Mediterranean, and areas within it, on the international ALE agenda. For instance, Leona English’s International Encyclopedia of Adult Education (English 2005) was published in 2005, a bulky tome covering various global facets of ALE. For arguably the first time, “the Mediterranean” featured as one of the entries (Mayo 2005), alongside another relevant entry, especially with regard to the Arab states, namely “the Middle East” (Mojab 2005).

The rest of the relevant literature consists of country reviews. The DVV International series “International Perspectives on Adult Education” focused on single-country studies, including countries bordering the Mediterranean – from Slovenia (Krajnc and Licen 2002) to Malta (Mayo 2007). Others were published in various issues of the Journal of Adult Continuing Education (JACE), drawing on detailed single-country reports on ALE drawn up, in 2008, for policy research institute Research voor Beleid in the Netherlands. There is a predominance of European Mediterranean (Euro-Med) countries in the literature, with the reviews often being historical (Ortero-Urtaza 2011). One recurring theme is the quest for democracy, particularly “grassroots democracy”, an antidote to totalitarianism and Central Bank/Troika-driven “debtocracy” austerity measures.Footnote 8 This applies mainly to countries such as Greece, Italy, Portugal and Spain, thus echoing a prominent theme in Wain (1985), which also included ALE for social and institutional resistance to LLE reforms in Algeria (Haddab 1985).

The single-country reviews were written by authors including Nikša Nikola Šoljan et al. (1985), who focused on workers’ universities and education for self-management in the old Yugoslavia; Marcie Boucouvalas (1988) on Greece; Bruno Schettini (2010) and Maurizio Lichtner (1992) on Italy; Paula Guimarães (2011), Licínio Lima (2005) and Alberto Melo and Ana Benavente (1978) on Portugal; Emilio Lucio-Villegas (2012, 2015) and Javier Diez-Palomar and Ramón Flecha (2010) on Spain; Klitos Symeonides (1992) on Cyprus; and Kenneth Wain and myself on Malta (Wain and Mayo 1992). The anti-Fascist democratic drive in ALE in Italy, Spain and Portugal also featured in a comparative piece on adult popular education (Guimarães et al. 2018), with a focus on community-oriented popular ALE throughout history and in contemporary times.

Literature on ALE in the Arab states, by contrast, is sparse. It includes the series of Global Reports on Adult Learning and Education (GRALE) compiled by UNESCO (e.g. UIL 2022), of which five have been published to date, which include UNESCO Member States’ survey data on adult literacy. These reports indicate the predominance of state-sponsored activities (see also Mojab 2005, p. 401; Gordon and Castejon 2012, p. 36), notably from ministries of education (UIL 2022, p. 69), with next to no support from other ministries, including health. This is surprising given the global COVID-19 pandemic and its health-related impacts. Another important source is, once again, DVV International. Its ALE ToolboxFootnote 9 was developed in Jordan, Morocco, Palestine and Tunisia, to help address low literacy, especially among women (Benmiloud 2021; DVV International 2020). The DVV International journal, Adult Education for Development, is also an important source of material on the Arab World, as is, sporadically, the Journal of Holy Land and Pales-tine Studies, with its occasional articles on LLL among Palestinians under siege (Hammond 2012; Masalha 2014; Silwadi and Mayo 2014). This complements other published work on Palestinian ALE for development and resistance, such as Maltese-American Joe Sacco’s (2007) “comics journalism”, and Nur Masalha’s monumental history of Palestinian education across the millennia (Masalha 2022). Given the current incessant military onslaught of Gaza by the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), alleged by some to be genocide, we can also expect future literature on ALE and trauma in Palestine. Finally, literature in Arabic and English is provided in a periodical produced by the DVV International-funded Arab House for Adult Education and Development (AHAED) (see Wakil 2022, pp. 120–121).

While there are scattered pieces on ALE in the “southern” Mediterranean, notably the Arab states (e.g. El-Geretly 2002; Ghoneim Sywelem 2015), I believe the field is crying out for a handbook of or companion to ALE in the Arab world. I further argue that compendia or handbooks on ALE in the Mediterranean at large are also lacking in the existing literature, either organised into country chapters, as in Peter Jarvis’s Perspectives on adult education and training in Europe (Jarvis 1992) published by the National Institute of Adult Continuing Education (NIACE), or with chapters on recurring themes, such as those regarding Latin America (La Belle 1986; Torres 1990).

While journals on adult education have existed in Mediterranean countries, none have had a specific focus on the region at large. This has been the domain of comparative education, as with the now defunct Mediterranean Journal of Educational Studies, which carried few articles on adult education in the region. Other journals, such as the Xàtiva-based Quaderns d’Educació Continua, are still going strong, while the now defunct Barcelona-based Dialogos and Italian Lifelong Life-wide Learning published little on ALE as a feature of the region. As stated above, research has tended to focus on literacy, especially in the Arab world and in swathes of “southern” Europe. It has also explored the implementation of EU themes, such as “learning cities”Footnote 10 and LLL in EUMS, and rural development in Spain and Portugal, with regard to vanishing crafts and skills, and aspects of community education. These themes will be broached throughout the rest of this article. Another important theme, especially in “southern” and other European countries, is migration and intercultural education, with academic “Chairs” established in the latter field in places such as the University of Studies at Messina, Sicily, Italy. This subject is generally treated holistically. One centre which has produced work in adult education in this regard is the University of Barcelona, combining sociology, adult education and studies around social differences.

ALE considerations from different sides of the Mediterranean

ALE in the “southern” Mediterranean

Given that this article is written from the perspective of someone living on the European side of the Mediterranean, it is useful to register landmarks of ALE in this region, which is witnessing mass migration from the “South” and elsewhere via the Central Mediterranean route, the point of origin for several migration flows into “southern” Europe and further “north”. Knowledge of these ALE features will aid in any attempt to organise meaningful ALE experiences for more varied multicultural communities in the “northern” Mediterranean, whose countries receive migrants from the Basin’s “southern” shores.

ALE in the “southern” Mediterranean is defined by its “portability”, not only of labour power but also of cultures, knowledge, wisdoms and learning traditions. Furthermore, as posited by Antonio Gramsci, himself an organiser of important revolutionary ALE projects in Italy, we need to learn about migrant groups not only from their point of arrival in the host country but, most importantly, to avoid stereotypes and simplifications with regard to their country of origin. For example, what made them migrate in the first place (Apitzsch 2016)? While ALE needs and traditions of all origin countries should be included in this understanding, given the Mediterranean focus of this article, I limit myself to this region.

ALE in the Arab states

As mentioned in the literature overview, the focus of much ALE in the Arab world centres on literacy (Al-Mulla 2021), the principal type of educational provision among adults. UNESCO’s GRALE surveys (e.g. UIL 2009, p. 46) confirm this. While literacy is a key component of adult basic education in several Arab countries, a broader range of ALE provision can be found in Palestine. The Arab News reported, in July 2021, that there were around 50 million people with low literacy in the Arab world (Al-Mulla 2021), while the Arab Organization for Education, Culture and Science (ALECSO) reported, on 5 January 2023, 65.5 million (ALECSO 2023). Among Mediterranean Arab countries, ALECSO stated that the lowest literacy levels in 2018 were found in Morocco (2,143,819 people), followed by Algeria (1,865,624 people), with no figures provided for the following two years (ibid.). One wonders whether the two-year gap between the Arab News and ALECSO sources is a matter of accuracy or due to the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic. Naturally, the pandemic affected ALE in many places (Accioly and Macedo 2022), including in Arab countries (UIL 2022, p. 101). Arab respondents to the 2022 GRALE survey had the lowest number who agreed that strategies were developed to counter the pandemic’s impact on ALE (ibid., p. 102). It is also important to be aware that low literacy is more pronounced among women, with an alarming rate of 42.9% in Arab countries (ALECSO 2023). It is for this reason that the DVV International ALE Toolbox was a welcome development (DVV International 2020), attesting to efforts by international agencies specialising in adult education for development to enhance ALE provision in these states, especially among women.

As widely documented, analysis into low literacy levels has factored in not only gender discrimination but also the urban–rural divide. This refers to the disparity in literacy attainment between urban and rural dwellers – a widespread global phenomenon, in addition to industrial underdevelopment and nomadic existence, the latter most pertinent to Bedouin Arab life. It has occasionally been declared a matter of national concern, for example, in Egypt, with promotional literature circulated internationally in the late 1980s, early 1990s and later, during the time of the Mubarak government (Ghoneim Sywelem 2015). In Syria, there were attempts, before the current conflict which began in 2011, to address adult and youth literacy, targeting girls and women in particular, in rural and semi-deserted areas (Saida 2004, p. 78). The recent conflict has rendered the literacy and adult basic education situation more precarious (see Awayed-Bishara 2022 on conflict situations), often extending to refugee camps.

Dispersed and nomadic Bedouin communities have been the focus of innovative educational practices, as in the case of Libya. Mobile classrooms were targeted at Libyans in dispersed rural areas, especially among Bedouin communities. UNESCO (2003, p. 24) reports that forms of information technology, such as the transistor radio and television, have also been effectively used to spread literacy and other education to Libyan communities. However, the subsequent uprising and toppling of the Gaddafi regime, and the division between different segments of Libyan society in and around 2011, put an end to further development of organised ALE in the country.

Another impediment to literacy learning, or any other form of organised education for that matter, results from the imposition of a curfew and the arrest of men, youth and children during an intifada (uprising), as described by UNESCO (2003, p. 9) with regard to Palestine.Footnote 11 In these situations of struggle, “necessity becomes the mother of invention” as even prisons become important learning spaces (Sacco 2007). As far as formal structures are concerned, however, ALE suffers under these circumstances. It remains the most neglected part of the entire educational system – a common occurrence internationally, but especially obvious in the Middle East.

Despite ministerial pronouncements to the contrary, underlining the urgent need for adult education, the reality, already referred to, indicates the hollowness of this rhetoric (Yousif 2009, p. 30). One of the difficulties relates to measuring the effectiveness of existing measures, initiatives and funding procedures, due to a lack of high-quality data that can be used to assess implementation and results. Furthermore, data are collected by different types of institutions, bodies and providers, making it difficult to obtain an overall and reliable perspective (Gordon and Castejon 2012, p. 36). As already mentioned, in most Arab contexts, what little ALE data do exist, emerge, almost exclusively, from ministries of education. Little comes from ministries of health, which is surprising given the experience of the pandemic (UIL 2022). The GRALE reports, compiled on the basis of solicited individual country reviews, indicate that state-sponsored ALE features under some overarching government policies. In the first part of this century, this applied to 68% of Arab states, with the caveat that the term “policy” varies, ranging from government declarations to national constitutions and development plans, and from medium term to decennial periods of validity (e.g. UIL 2009, p. 28).

Agencies such as DVV International play an important role in ALE in the Arab world. AHAED, the Arab agency it sponsors, based in Lebanon, featured prominently at the Seventh International Conference on Adult Education (CONFINTEA VII), held 2022 in Marrakech, and the concurrent Civil Society Forum (CSF). This agency, as expected, helps to keep Arab issues in ALE on the agenda. In addition, some Arab states benefit from EU funding as a result of agreements and programmes (e.g. Erasmus Mundus) open to countries outside the EU. For example, Bir Zeit University’s Centre for Continuing Education, located in the city of Ramallah, in the West Bank and under the Palestinian Authority, was a key institution in the Tempus programme “Lifelong Learning in Palestine” (Hammond 2012), as were Bethlehem University (the oldest Palestinian university evolving from the physical precincts of a Lasallian school) and Al-Quds University in the “old city” of Al-Quds/Jerusalem. Community education work has featured prominently in the programme of Al-Quds University, particularly in its Centre for Community Education.

This community education work has focused on and featured women. A substantial part has consisted of community theatre, which is also practised elsewhere in the “southern” Mediterranean. Among Jerusalemites and other Palestinians, this work has given prominence to the issue of domestic violence (DV) (Silwadi and Mayo 2014), an important theme in this part of the world although not unique to it, with a rise in femicide and other forms of violence against women worldwide. The DV theme has also been strong at Bir Zeit’s Centre for Continuing Education and has featured in other centres and educational projects in the Middle East. An example is the El-Nadim Centre, led by medic Dr Magda Adly. It runs a women’s programme at its Cairo Centre and in thirteen extension outlets: seven in Cairo itself, four in upper Egypt and two in lower Egypt. In the decades before and after the start of the current millennium, the centre has offered rehabilitative, psychological and other social support to 316 women, half of whom were Egyptian victims of rape, torture and DV (Adly 2007, p. 54). The dangerous anti-patriarchal nature of this work was highlighted by the country’s repressive forces perpetrating violence on the centre’s premises, including violence against Magda Adly herself. Also based in Egypt is the El-Warsha Theatre group, whose activities, in the spirit of itinerant theatre, extend to the rest of the Middle East, comprising street theatre (El-Geretly 2002, p. 72) heavily influenced by Augusto Boal’s interactive “Theatre of the Oppressed”.Footnote 12

Finally, faith-based ALE plays an important role in global education, not only in the “Western” world. Faith issues permeate the greater part of the Mediterranean, not only the “southern” region. After all, the Mediterranean gave rise to the three major religious creeds: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. In the Arab world, literacy education in Arabic was designed to support people in reading the Holy Qu’ran. Holy Qur’an themes, such as “Read in the name of your God”, have featured in literacy programmes at least in Egypt (Abdel Gawad 2004) and Morocco. It is not only in Islam that we find a religious context for literacy in the “southern” Mediterranean. There are also Christian organisations such as Caritas International that are engaged in ALE in various countries, for example, in Egypt, in connection with the Coptic Church.

ALE in the “northern” and “eastern” Mediterranean

The “northern” and “eastern” Mediterranean has a rich history of ALE. Admittedly, the overriding focus of most EUMS is the EU discourse on LLL. This is a constant which ought to be borne in mind. Here, however, the earlier caveat regarding the different layers a policy discourse must go through before it takes on a practical dimension, is characterised by rounds of negotiation. This is where the potential for circumventing policy directions lies, and where communal traditions and elements from the history of ALE can be drawn upon to make policy provision more varied and complex. It is important to note that many of the most lauded and documented initiatives from this part of the world are not unique to “southern” Europe; many had their antecedents elsewhere. However, they constitute a rich tapestry with which to counter or modify the modern global mantra of ALE or LLL for “employability”.

As Schettini (2010) asserts, adult literacy remains a major concern in large areas of countries such as Italy. This has also been corroborated with respect to other parts of Spain and Portugal (Guimarães et al. 2018). This offers greater creative possibilities for combining literacy with other activities, and not simply to serve the economy. Alberto Manzi, for instance, whose birth centenary is coming up in November 2024, was a pioneer of teaching literacy in Italian through the newly developed RAI TV (Italian state television). In his period of activity, 1960–1968, Italy still had pockets of low literacy, albeit while the country was experiencing an economic boom. Manzi then took his innovative approach to Latin America, where his efforts among Italian immigrants there had mixed reception (Farné 2011). He also undertook short stints in Brazil, Bolivia and Peru in collaboration with local groups there and with Salesians.Footnote 13 These efforts were continuous, over a long period of time, and he was the target of repression in Bolivia, when he was arrested and tortured because of the perceived left-wing orientation of his programme (Manzi 2014, p. 40; Mulas 2020, p. 68). Manzi’s arrest, torture and being declared persona non grata (Farné 2011) for his literacy efforts in Latin America, bring to mind the work of Brazilian educator and philosopher Paulo Freire. It has been argued (Morrow and Torres 1995) that there was room for much cultural crossover between Italy and Latin America, not only because of the strong presence of Italian immigrants in the latter region, but also because of great similarities in large swathes of both contexts, especially, in Italy’s case, in the industrially underdeveloped Meridione (southern regions).

Popular education, associated with Paulo Freire and others in Latin America, was, it can be argued, somewhat anticipated by attempts at education for agrarian reform and cultural renewal which occurred in Spain through its Republican government’s Educational (Otero-Hurtaza 2011) and Cultural Missions (Iglesias 2005). The struggle against powerful landowners and the church hierarchy, a feature of emancipatory thinking in Latin America, and work in adult literacy and popular education in Christian Base Communities (small groups who gathered to read and discuss the Bible), had possible antecedents in Spain with the work of such figures as the Jesuit José Maria Llanos (former Francoist turned leftist through his pastoral work among the poor). The comisiones obreras (workers’ commissions) he helped form became a post-Franco-periodFootnote 14 trade union, with close ties to the Communist Party led by Santiago Carrillo, a well-known exponent, alongside Enrico Berlinguer and Georges Marchais, of “Eurocommunism”.

In an age of hegemonic thinking about “employability”, with its implications for ALE in terms of learning for the economy, there is an opportunity in “southern” and “eastern” (Mediterranean) Europe for ALE to engage critically with the economy. One key figure in radical ALE is the Sardinian-born Antonio Gramsci, who moved, for university studies, from the agrarian island of Sardinia to the industrial centre of Turin in Italy. Uneven levels of development were and still are a feature of the capitalist mode of production, and also within a single nation state (e.g. Italy) or region. Gramsci’s revolutionary factory council theory, refined as a reflection on the aftermath of the biennio rosso (the “two red years” of intense social conflict in Italy during 1919/1920), was a contribution to thinking on ALE and work, focused on engaging critically and expansively with and not for production. In the latter case, it represented the worker not being a “partial operator” in the process in a state of “alienation” (Marx’s “estranged labour”). In the former case, ALE was used for genuine industrial democracy. Workers, through a holistic education on the entire production process (as opposed to the limited repetitive drudgery of large-scale, mechanised mass production pioneered by Henry Ford), could gain mental control over the entire scenario.

Other attempts at this kind of education emerged under the government led by Josip Broz Tito in the old Yugoslavia, with its promotion of education for self-management (Tonkovic 1985). These experiments, often derided by those adhering to corporate capitalism, have been followed and studied intensely in such places as the International Institute of Social Studies at the Hague and Cornell University, to name but two academic institutions known for studies on democratising labour relations. Yugoslavia exemplified a larger context where literacy could be acquired with impressive results: through workers’ education, 2,324,158 people became literate in the first five years following the end of World War II (Samolovčev 1985, p. 47).

The idea of such a holistic education for workers, incorporating their broader subjectivities, was also boldly introduced in another Italian experiment at a time when trade unions could capitalise on favourable industrial conditions, more so than is probably the case today. This was the time of the social state (or welfare state in Britain), preceding the age of the intensification of globalisation in “real time”. The project implemented the still-lauded 150 hours of paid educational leave (PEL) bargained by unions (Yarnit 1980). This year, 2024, marks its 50th anniversary. The project included education for both men and women and provided, among other things, monographic courses at universities (short courses focused on a specific theme) by and for women. PEL has been universally struggled for, with research on this topic coming from countries such as Canada (Livingstone and Sawchuk 2004). This widespread struggle and provision should not obscure the fact that the “150 hours” experiment in Italy was an influential source in international ALE.

The mid-1970s education against authoritarianism in “southern” Europe – in Greece, Portugal and Spain, and, to an extent, Italy, after World War II – led to ideas about ALE as having an anti-authoritarian slant. Relevant, in this regard, are ALE projects at the Centri di Orientazione Sociale (Centres for Social Orientation) in Umbria and beyond, inspired by Aldo Capitini, and in Spain with regard to regional autonomy. The latter was regarded as an alternative to the centralisation of the Franco and earlier Primo de Rivera regimes. The anti-institutional framework of “education from below” could well have had its basis in the strong anarchist tradition of struggles in Spain, and partly in the educational thinking and writing of Cesc Ferrer I Guardia in Catalonia, along with the wealth of communal celebrations and commemorations which took place overtly and covertly throughout Spain during the Francoist period.

Community events, whether deliberately or incidentally, have a learning dimension (Grech and Mayo 2020). They can also be turned from simply a learning activity to an educational (organised non-formal) learning activity (Bofill 1985; Grech and Mayo 2020). These sources of communal learning are favoured by “southern” climatic conditions as they are often open-air events held during winter and spring. Informal learning activities are a contradictory amalgam of conservative and/or progressive concepts. The Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Spain is a case in point. This involves dominant hegemonic or, rather, repressively imposed messages regarding the Catholic State as conceived by Francoism, the ruling classes and church hierarchy, and ideas of subversive communal identities, through specific readings of the Passion and Resurrection narratives in the Christian tradition.

One other approach to critical literacy (“reading the word and the world”; Freire 1987) is attributed to la scrittura collettiva – the collective writing (see last chapter in Batini et al. 2014) of Don Lorenzo Milani and Mario Lodi. Another example is Milani’s preparation for Friday “conferences”, which brought together politicians, employers and community members to discuss burning issues. Community members were given a week to read about and discuss the topics. They could then enter the conference well equipped with the relevant background knowledge. Again, this is not unique to Italy or to the rest of “southern” and “northern” Europe. Rather, it has its ehoes in situations when communities make do without formally designated qualified educators and take charge of their own learning. This has been the case with prison education throughout the years. Examples include the prison school at Ustica, developed by political prisoners (with Antonio Gramsci and Amadeo Bordiga among them) marooned on the Sicilian island by the Fascist Regime, awaiting trial.

Finally, “southern” Europe has revived the idea of education for self-reliance – recalling Leo Tolstoy in Russia, Rabindranath Tagore in India and, to a certain extent, Julius Nyerere in Tanzania (who published a speech thus entitled; Nyerere 1967) – to preserve and put to good use rural skills which are becoming endangered or extinct as a result of demographic shifts from the hinterland to service- and tourist-oriented coastal zones in Spain and Portugal. For example, the plataforma rural (rural platform) project is a prominent ALE initiative in the Iberian peninsula today (Lucio-Villegas 2017; Guimarães et al. 2018).

Bridging the different sides of the Mediterranean

This article shows that the different sides of the Mediterranean – specifically, the “northern” and “southern” sides – have enough landmarks to provide a synthesis of ALE, given that years of migration across the Mediterranean have been a feature of life in and around this region. This helps to answer the overarching questions posed at the outset: Does the historical and contemporary fund of ALE knowledge in the region have distinctive features or demonstrate recurring traits? How can we draw on these landmarks to foster intercultural engagement as a result of mass migration which is changing demographic landscapes in the region?

I have drawn on accounts of community learning, faith-based learning and adult literacy, with underlying employment but also religious motivations, especially with regard to the Muslim and Catholic faiths. We must also keep in mind other faiths, from Orthodox to Maronite, as reflected in the Jerusalem/Al-Quds Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Themes relating to migrant populations in “southern” Europe are also apparent, such as commemorative events as a form of adult learning, including open-air festivities and rituals. There is, therefore, potential for further cultural hybridisation. This will continue to occur, as migration within the “southern” Mediterranean, and from the “southern” to the “northern” Mediterranean, is prominent. These landmarks exist alongside EU-driven LLL programmes, primarily in those countries in the region which are EUMS, in East Mediterranean countries such as Turkey, and in North African and Middle Eastern countries such as Morocco, Palestine and Egypt, which have forged ties with the EU.

As is clear throughout this article, migration is a prominent feature of the Mediterranean, with implications for ALE. Egypt is an example of migration in the “southern” part of the region, as a transient country where people often settle for a short time (Abdel Gawad 2004). From my perspective as a writer living in Malta, this article has been mainly concerned with ALE among different cultures in the “southern” European area. For people travelling via the central Mediterranean migration route (Mayo and Pisani 2022), ALE has an important role to play in efforts to generate a multicultural existence in a “southern” European geographical space. This has implications for migration from all parts of the globe; however, I have concentrated on people coming to “southern Europe” from “southern” Mediterranean countries.

While ALE can play a role, it does not exist in isolation from other efforts in complementary areas, such as progressive social movements, schools and economies. Education, including ALE, is not an independent variable. It cannot be attributed powers it does not have – that is, the power of social transformation on its own. It can, however, make its own limited contribution, being a vital cog in a larger process. Its first task, in my view, is to challenge the widespread scaremongering of an “invasion” by immigrants threatening to “steal” jobs. A dose of political economy can help in considering the direct effects of migrant work, and what or who this fear of an “Armageddon” serves. Anti-racist education is an urgent aspect of ALE provision in this regard. This involves problematising representations of the “other” at different levels, primarily in the mass media, through critical media literacy. In addition, community theatre traditions from Egypt, Palestine and Spain, among others, can serve as an educational vehicle. Also useful are the various Mediterranean “reinventions” of the work of Augusto Boal or Federico Garcia Lorca in his travelling theatre La Barraca (Silwadi and Mayo 2014; Guimarães et al. 2018).

Anti-racist education can also entail problematisation of “southern” Europe’s much-vaunted cultural heritage, challenging its demonising and exoticising of the Saracen “other”. This is rooted in the historical imaginary of the Christian “Reconquista” of Spain and Portugal from Moorish (Muslim) control, and the Crusades (military expeditions) and the Maltese Corsairs (e.g. the Knights of St John, also known as the Knights of Malta) against the Ottoman (Turkish Empire). These depictions prey on popular sensibilities. In response, cultural heritage and rituals require critical epistemological co-investigation in the Freirean sense. This is a major challenge for ALE for intercommunal purposes. It can be argued, in this regard, that a broader perspective is also important. For example, what perceptions of Catholicism and Europeans do migrants carry with them as they attempt to settle in Europe? What strengths and contradictions do migrants bring with them from their non-homogenous places of origin?

Helpful in this respect is Antonio Gramsci’s admonition to writers of popular novels (see his criticism of Father Bresciani’s “progeny”, writers who emphasise place of settlement and disregard context of origin, Gramsci 1985; Apitzsch 2016) to understand the varied contexts of migrants’ provenance. Gramsci was referring to migrants from Italy’s Mezzogiorno and islands settling in the “northern” mainland, but this can also be applied to migrants from outside the country (Mayo 2020). This approach, Gramsci maintains, can help us avoid lapsing into stereotypes and exoticisation, what Edward Said would call “Orientalism”: fictitious constructions of those we regard as “the other” (Said 1978).

This task lies beyond the scope of ALE and more within the domain of academic research (see Journal of Mediterranean Studies, Meridiana). The task for ALE providers, however, is to consult this research to inform learning programmes. Accuracy, rather than impressions, is the desirable feature of praxis (reflection upon action for social transformation; Freire 1970). One immediate task is to bring together different community groups to engage in genuine interpersonal communication (Buber 1970 [1923]) and authentic dialogue (Freire 2018 [1968]), which allows free and secure intercultural exchanges and co-investigation of issues, taking into account important landmarks in ALE from different sides of the Mediterranean. The key question is: Who should dialogue with whom, under what conditions and from which position of power or powerlessness (Wright 2009)?

An interesting example for intercultural learning settings was the attempt, by the then mayor of Catania Enzo Bianco, to convert the former Italian Communist name for social centres in and around the city, from casa del popolo to casa dei popoli – from popolo, people, to popoli, peoples. This pronouncement was made by Pietro Banna, assessore (councillor) responsible for the Politics and Immigrants’ Project, in the Catania Municipal government, at a 1999 conference on comparative education held in the Sicilian city (Pampanini 2000). This symbolised the coming together of different cultures, including cultures of adult learning, literacy acquisition and faith-based learning, in one context and sometimes under the same roof (see Banna 2000, p. 247).

Conclusion

In summary, the “southern” Mediterranean has a rich array of adult learning provision which can be used by progressive adult educators in countries seeking to engage in the sort of education of adults which sees learners, including migrant learners, with their own cultures, as subjects. We can draw on this knowledge of ALE in the “southern” Mediterranean, not all of which is unique to these areas, to engage meaningfully with it, in a process of education which avoids asistencialismo (a top-down knowledge-deposit approach) and cultural imperialism. This could begin with a bicultural approach to literacy, recognising that agendas for learning extend beyond the immediate need for “employability” to venture into other areas, such as faith-based education, perhaps as part of a wider interfaith dialogue programme, which could include learning in mosques, when available. It could also employ a wide array of technologies, from rudimentary to sophisticated.

Experiences of violence, both domestic and public, also exist in migrants’ countries of origin. We can learn from migrants from troubled places (Awayed-Bishara 2022), such as Palestine and Syria, whose numbers are likely to swell due to current unrest, to see how these challenges can be tackled through ALE. As discussed above, trauma will likely become a major focus of ALE among migrants moving to “southern” Europe from Palestine, especially Gaza and the West Bank, in the coming years. And “southern” Europe, like the rest of the continent, has already received many migrants from Ukraine who are suffering trauma.

In the Mediterranean, we must move beyond simply focusing on EU-driven, “employability”-oriented adult education (which extends to North Africa and the Middle East through EU funding mechanisms) towards critical literacy to problematise existing structures of potential oppression. This is an important step towards genuinely democratic and inclusive education. Much can be drawn from ALE in the Mediterranean, together with useful insights from other parts of the world. These attempts at grassroots community learning can serve the goal of a fruitful interchange of cultures and ideas – that is, in the words of the popular Italian phrase, ALE dei popoli.