Any
attempt at analysing and judging Dom Mintoff’s contribution would have to
contend with the many contradictions his political behaviour reflected. In the late forties Mintoff was the first important Maltese politician who made no
bones about the fact that he considered himself to be a Socialist. Simply to
state that required a great deal of courage: the decade before the Pope had
issued an encyclical, Quadrogesimo Anno, which contained a ringing
denunciation of Socialism. Of course, the Socialism Pius XI had in mind was
probably the Communist variety holding sway in Russia at the time but that
could hardly have cut any ice with local Churchmen and Mintoff’s political
enemies.
Mintoff
always defined himself as a Socialist, and mixed (mostly) with Socialists -
especially at the European level. Socialist themes imbued his utterances and
writings and he tried to put into practice measures clearly inspired by the
notions of social equality and egalitarianism. So it is against this
ideological benchmark that his political actions should be judged.
Democratic
Socialism was the creed he espoused. Of central importance were the social
legislation and social measures in favour of the poor and the working-class,
but worker participation in industry and greater citizen participation in
social organisation and administration were also important features of
Mintoff’s ideology and praxis. In the context of the geo-political realities of
the time and the ideological currents swirling around, all measures,
initiatives and changes could only make coherent sense if Malta were to be
truly politically and economically emancipated by doing away with the British
base whose presence underlined economic dependence and lingering psychological
subservience to the erstwhile colonial master.
The
rapid social evolution of the poorer sections of the population in the 16 years
between 1971 and 1987 is one of Mintoff’s greatest triumphs. Social housing, which afforded comfort
and dignity to thousands of individuals who
previously resided in quite inhuman conditions in slums, tenement houses and
hovels, and a myriad of benefits, which raised the
standard of living of ordinary workers, widows, pensioners and the disabled are
a dazzling testament to the success of the social soul which drove the Labour
Government of the time. Any attempt to minimise the positive social impact of
these policies only underlines how tenuous the connection of some commentators
with the social reality of the time is.
“Freedom’’
was achieved pretty smoothly on the political and practical level, less so in
its economic aspects with only employment in the Labour Corps staving off an
unemployment rate of gigantic proportions, partly as result of the closure of the British base. While
efforts to attract German and other European investment produced some
remarkable successes, the attempt to establish wholly or partly-owned Chinese
industries was an unqualified disaster. As a result, the civil service became
bloated with unnecessary personnel, often recruited on the basis of party
allegiance rather than merit.
Democratic
Socialism also implies a staunch belief in human and individual rights – and
the institutions which safeguard them. That Mintoff’s governments were lacking
in this regard is a tragic understatement. Tragic not only because the effects
of Mintoff-led governments’ cavalier attitudes towards the Constitutional Court
and fundamental human rights. It was a tragedy also because the
heavy-handedness, autocratic attitudes and intolerance denatured the core of
what Democratic Socialism was supposed to be about and turned it into a
wretched variant more akin to ideologies it ostensibly was inimical to. The
opportunity to influence positively a national ethos, to form the thinking of a
whole section of the people into a democracy-friendly mental force was
lamentably thrown to the winds.
So what
went wrong? How did an intelligent, idealistic, charismatic and capable
socialist politician muck things up so badly as to legitimately open himself to
the accusation that he was leading a movement at times more reminiscent of the
far right than the democratic left? The answer may lie
partly in the socio-cultural realities he had to contend with. Post-war Malta,
while aspiring for a better standard of living was still mired in a
quasi-medieval culture centred on village-life which reflected a parody of the
religious worldview which pervaded everyday existence; it was an us and them, “tagħna l-aqwa’’ u
“tagħna t-tajjeb’’, the others-are-devils tribal mentality with elements in the
small communities coalescing around the rival feast clubs which provided
identity to individuals, extended families and whole neighbourhoods.
The
political parties did, to an extent, supplant the feast-clubs as a point of reference (although in
some localities party affiliation became an extension of band-club
affiliation), but rather than impart to their members and supporters a new set
of values drawn from the political ideology they embraced, they assimilated
their adherents’ own priorities and attitudes. These were projected onto the
arena of national politics. The Labour Party which drew upon the bulk of the
working and lower-class people for support tended to attract these cultural
elements on a greater scale than the PN.
Besides
the cultural idiosyncracies of the time, it is within Mintoff’s own personality that another part of the
answer to the question as to why the Mintoff years at times resembles a
far-right–dominated era lies. Mintoff himself was bold, narcissistic,
irascible, clever, aggressive, foul-mouthed, uncouth, charismatic, patriotic and unable to
suffer dissent gladly. His close friends have repeatedly mentioned his
inability to lose graciously at boċċi – and his attempts to cheat to ensure a victory. He
probably had a suspicious streak – later to develop into fully-fledged paranoia
when old age brought with it incipient dementia – and was ruthless
enough to exploit a horrible rumour about his Labour arch-enemy Paul Boffa
which was doing the rounds, although, in truth, he later expressed regret at
how he had treated his former leader.
Many of
these personal traits and qualities did not sit comfortably with the political
creed he embraced and tried to put into practice.The contradiction between
the persona and the ideology goes at least some way to explain the serious
conflicts between credo and praxis during his time as PM – and later. Mintoff
himself, while intellectually embracing the tenets of Democratic Socialism led
the party and the nationon the strength of his personality and charisma rather than the
force of ideas.
That, of course, chimed in perfectly with the parochial mind-set of many of his followers who were used to idolising the village saint rather than excogitating on their understanding of the faith – or how that should have an impact on their lives. Anything was acceptable as long as it came from Mintoff; the man was far more important than the ideals – or even the ideas.
It
would, however, be very wrong to consider Mintoff as some sort of closet
fascist or right-wing nutter in Socialist clothing. He knew and respected
Socialist beliefs, and was intellectually committed to them. Generally speaking
did his utmost to turn Malta into a Socialist country which respected the basic
democratic institutions. But the personal imprint on those beliefs was
conditioned by his personality with its good qualities – and some serious flaws.
Hence his decisions to suspend the Constitutional Court for a number of years,
the seriously maladroit handling of national broadcasting and the tolerance of
the violence he openly condemned but against which he never actually took a
strong internal stand, which may have very well stamped it
out. One cannot forget also the savage reactions to peaceful dissent
which turned adversaries into bitter enemies and shocked a few (too few)
MLP-supporting intellectuals into changing allegiance or going into political
hibernation, while the massive bulk of his supporters roared their approval.
It
is too early to judge his place in history, but one day it will be possible to
examine the true impact of this extraordinary man on the the country. Sixteen
months ago months the celebration of the centenary of his birth were
somewhat subdued – possibly a sign that the emotional impact of his politics is
receding. The tangible effects, though, will remain for decades to come.
