The King and the Saviour

Lèse Majestè

As politicians go, Joseph Muscat is not one to hold up as an exemplary figure. He conned us into believing he was an honest-to-goodness young liberal – albeit with sound values -  with a refreshingly modern, mould-breaking outlook on how to run the affairs of the nation. In truth his admirers – whose name is legion – can point to a considerable number of accomplishments few could be dishonest enough to deny. However, even some of these were achieved at a high cost, be it to the environment, to truth, to good governance, to the good name of the country and to social cohesion.

Under his watch, while for many the tenor of material life improved, the community as a whole sank into a moral morass which is threatening to suffocate our nation’s spirit.

He railed against the scandals of the Gonzi administration, and although there is no proof he actually benefitted from shady deals himself, became an arch-abettor of corruption involving his closest cronies. He portrayed himself as something of an environmentalist and destroyed a good chunk of the little his predecessors had left in open spaces, greenery and urban beauty for the benefit of the construction industry. One could go on.

All in all, you might almost be tempted to call this slick salesman of snake-oil a rather nasty piece of work. But a murderer - or even an enabler of murder - he is not.

I do not believe what Mr. Fenech told the police on his arrest, which was duly and dutifully relayed during testimony in court a few days ago. While the man accused of masterminding Daphne Caruana Galizia’s heinous killing maintained Muscat had spoken to him about the murder during the infamous Girgenti birthday bash, a text message sent by Fenech to Muscat shows there was no communication between them on that day. Fenech was almost certainly trying to muddy the waters and diffuse guilt. Then there was that remark of Fenech’s (caught on tape) that it would be madness to approach ix-Xiħ for help with staving off investigations...

Would Muscat have pardoned Theuma if he had anything to do with the murder? Keith Schembri was petrified a pardoned Theuma would spill enough beans to point to his sordid (possibly after the fact) involvement in the affair – as indeed happened. Yet Muscat practically insisted on agreeing to the pardon on his own initiative. Had he been involved, that would have been indeed dangerous: Theuma’s revelation could open a can of worms which might very well have implicated all those involved – including Muscat.

So, while Muscat is a blot on the political landscape the nation is well rid of, it would be dishonest - though undoubtedly most gratifying to those who hate him with a passion – for the former uncrowned monarch of Maltese politics, now deposed, to be blamed for involvement in that terrible deed. On the contrary, everything points to the fact that one of the extenuating factors of Muscat’s colourful tenure was the unstinting efforts he made to uncover Daphne’s killers. Six weeks after the deed, the alleged material executors were apprehended and charged – and have been languishing in prison since then. It took two years to arrest the alleged mastermind, but the police appear to have built a strong case against him. By all accounts Muscat pushed all he could for the truth about the murder to emerge.

While the most honourable thing for Muscat to do right now is to disappear completely from the political scene – a self-imposed exile to somewhere truly distant and exotic, like Andromeda, on a one-way ticket, would fit the bill admirably – he should not do so with the label of accomplice in murder stuck to his name. It is perhaps inevitable that following Daphne Caruana Galizia’s murder, the resulting welter of emotions would not only fuel opposition to the administration perceived as responsible for her death, but also cloud judgement as to the proper and fair apportioning of guilt according to just and rational criteria.

Daphne was most cruelly murdered. Justice for that deed should not entail pinning guilt on individuals, who politically obnoxious though they be, have nothing to do with the actual taking of life.

Le Sauveur

Were I a card-carrying member of the PN – something I have never been nor am likely to ever become – in the forthcoming leadership vote I would almost certainly plump for Bernard Grech.

It’s not that I terribly - or even somewhat - dislike Delia as a person. On the contrary I think I find him something of a simpatiku, someone I would quite happily get to know and discuss politics and football with over a tea or ten at the local.

Likeability in politics has its value, but only to a limited extent. Far more than whether one, on a personal level, provokes feelings of attraction in other people, what matters is the ability of the politician involved to convince that he or she is reliable; someone you can trust with decisions about your most precious belongings, indeed with the lives of the people you love most.

Most importantly, beyond the psycho-emotional level, a leader of a major political party which legitimately expects to gain power is expected to gaugeably foster enough confidence in his/her ability to eventually lead the nation. One would have to be able to attract the votes of individuals whoare not normally supporters of the party. The polls show, very conclusively, that a considerable slice of party membership is not willing to vote PN as long as Delia leads it. Even in situation where the Government’s most charismatic leader is now a disgraced non-entity, the economy is on its knees,  mass unemployment looms, and the public is clearly dissatisfied with the maladroit handling of the second wave of Covid, the PN trails Labour by a mile.

The prospect of a massive PL victory is enough to give us all the shivers. Not because there is much chance that the PL will dismantle the institutions and turn the island into some Byelarus in the Med. Abela is definitely no Lukashenko and the 80s are decades, and a huge chunk of political maturity, behind us. However, big majorities do not make for good government. We might have been spared the sleaze which characterised the first Muscat government had the margin of victory been 3,500 rather than 35,000. Arrogance is power’s doppelganger. Remember Austin Gatt’s stomach-churningly haughty statement that certain provisions need not be discussed in Parliament because the PN had a clear majority of seats?

If the PN confirms Delia, it is doomed to continuing internecine struggles (if not an actual split) and certain massive defeat in the next election. That, in itself, may be neither here nor there for many Maltese. But the prospect of a government which need never look to its laurels and feels it can plough ahead with any initiative, however tainted, because there will not be any meaningful Parliamentary opposition to its designs, should worry us all to insomnia. Every night.

Grech is not the divisive figure Delia is, irrespective of whether the accusations levelled at the current PN leader in 2017, and since, are true or not. He can command the respect of all PN supporters, especially if Delia behaves responsibly, and formally and substantially accepts his leadership, inviting his besotted followers to follow suit. Although I have to say his last media performances have been less than scintillating, Grech seems to have it in him to inspire his followers to common goals and common action.

Best of all, with him as PN leader, while the next election will almost certainly be lost, the nation will still be in a position to set its mind at rest that Parliament will not be a caricature of that institution which breathes life into a democracy.

State-Funded Homicide?

''Just a clump of cells’’ is the cliched mantra which is often intoned by those who describe themselves as pro-choice, when faced with the accusation that abortion is nothing less than the deliberate killing of a human life. But we all know - or should know – that there is a distinct human life within the mother’s womb. We should also know that this life within the womb is equipped not only with its own genetically distinct and unique identity, but also with the ability to develop all those characteristics which form a fully-fledged human.

 

Does this mean that any deliberate termination of a human life inside the mother’s womb is tantamount to homicide? If we define homicide as the deliberate killing of human person by another human person we find ourselves immediately mired in the controversy of what constitutes personhood.

One of the great debates within the abortion controversy is the question of whether, in its early stages, the zygote/embryo is to be considered a person. Personhood is not a scientific concept. If there is a human biological development which unequivocally signifies that the human life is, as from that moment, to be considered a human person we do not know what it is.

Personhood is a legal and philosophical concept. In so far as the law and philosophical ideas are changeable, so is personhood in this sense. Legally and philosophically one may ''decide'' that a human being is to be considered a person only after birth. But human intuition would rebel against such a definition: how can a particular individual be considered a person the moment he or she emerges from within the mother’s womb but not one second before? Or five minutes before or two hours, or even seventy-two hours, before? And so on.

Some would take issue with the adoption of a definition of abortion on purely legal and philosophical grounds and would ascribe personhood to all human life which is endowed with at least rudimentary brain structures.The brain starts to form quite early in the developmental journey inside the womb - at around the sixth week of pregnancy.

However, this position does not quite satisfy the argument that even within the earliest stages of human pre-birth development the individual human life carries within each and every cell the ability to develop all human tissues and organs – what is technically known as totipotency. What if it is this characteristic rather than a cerebral structure which is objectively the hallmark of personhood?

We simply do not know what constitutes personhood.  Faced with this situation the only morally acceptable position is to apply the precautionary principle:  we must take care to protect all human life which could possibly be a human person. On this basis abortion would therefore be clearly and unequivocally wrong.

(edited, for reasons of clarity and brevity, on 24th September 2021)

D

Il-messaġġ li qatt ma xtaqt naqra – imma fl-istess ħin kważi ridtu jintbagħat  għax kont naf li kienet qiegħda tbati hi u anke ta’ madwarha – wasal dalgħodu.  D, li sirt nafha iktar minn 20 sena ilu, ħadet l-aħħar nifs matul il-lejl.

Kienet ilha kwart ta’ seklu tikkumbatti max-xorb. Tieqaf, terġa’ tibda, tisparixxi għal ftit, terġa’ titfaċċa determinata li did-darba se tagħmel li hemm bżonn u se jirnexxilha. Għal ftit taż-żmien tibqa’ soda, kważi kulħadd jaħsel jemmen li issa ġabitha żewġ, u wara ftit xhur – u darba minnhom wara tliet snin u fuqhom - nerġgħu koppi.

Imbagħad, erba’ snin ilu, reġgħet ippruvat. U minn dakinhar ma missitx qatra ma’ xufftejha.

Ma kinitx xi konverżjoni bħal ta’ San Pawl fi triqtu lejn Damasku. Ma rat l-ebda raġġ ta’ dawl li għammxilha għajnejha u biddlilha l-mod kif taħseb ħabta u sabta. Għal darb’oħra kienet xebgħet tgħix maħkuma mix-xorb, u riedet terġa’ dduq il-libertà. Ippruvat. Forsi kien id-dehen li jiġi mill-munzell esperjenzi li għaddiet minnhom li wrieha li jkun aħjar jekk tibqa’ għaddejja soda, li żmien l-iskużi għadda u li kienet fid-dmir li turi rispett xieraq lejha nnifisha. U bil-mod saret bidla fiha – bidla ta’ veru.

Il-ħajja ta’ D ma kinitx xorb biss. Għaddiet minn stejjer sbieħ u koroh. Forsi bħal kulħadd, għax kollha kemm aħna kultant nifirħu u kultant nibku, kultant inġibuha żewġ u kultant ngħaxxquha. Imma din il-mara ma kinitx mara kwalunkwe. Għax wildet 3 subien, imma bħalissa hemm ħamest itfal jibkuha.

Kien hemm żmien meta ħuha – ġenitur waħdu – għal snin sħaħ ma setax ikompli jieħu ħsieb iż-żewġ uliedu bniet. D ħadet ir-responsabbiltà tat-trobbija tagħhom hi. Min-naħa tagħna konna ppruvajna nappoġġjawha kif stajna, imma affarijiet żgħar stajna nagħmlu. Kollox fuq spallejha kien. U min jaf lil dawn it-tfal (illum nisa), jaf x’biċċa xogħol għamlet. 

U ma kinitx l-unika darba f’ħajjitha li b’dedikazzjoni u mħabba ħadet ħsieb lil min kellu bżonn. Il-ġurnata minn filgħodu turi: ta’ età żgħira kienet tieħu ħsieb b’dedikazzjoni kbira membru tal-familja li kellu diżabilità serja. Anke tawha premju minħabba f’hekk. Imma għal D l-aqwa premju kien li tħaffef it-toqol ta’ min kien qed ibati.

Fil-gruppi tagħna kien hemm żmien meta kienet tiffrustrana: konna nħossu li kienet kapaċi tieqaf tixrob u ttejjeb ħajjitha, imma għal żmien twil, bħal donnu b’inkejja lilha nnifisha, kienet tara xi skuża se tivvinta biex terġa’ tibda tlegleg . Meta imbagħad kienet tkun wieqfa u għaddejja minn żmien tajjeb, kien ikun fiha għaxqa tismagħha titkellem fuqha nnifisiha b’onestà kbira u tappoġġja lill-oħrajn. Kienet kapaċi tħares ġewwa fiha nnifisħa u toħroġ b’għerf li jgħaġġbek. Bla ma taf għenet ħafna nies, l-aktar għax uriethom li, anke jekk taqa’ elf darba, jekk tibqa’ tipprova fl-aħħar jirnexxilek issib tarf tal-problema u ssewwi ħajtek.

Għandi 1,000 memorja tagħha – il-biċċa l-kbira minnhom ma nistax nirrakkontahom. Imma hemm waħda li ma ninsiha qatt, meta b’leħinha miksur u għajnejha jixegħlu qaltli li kient saret nanna għall-ewwel darba. Għax, anke meta kient tixrob il-familja kienet importanti ħafna għaliha. U tathom kulma setgħet.

Imma li tathom tawhulha lura. Meta mardet daru qaqoċċa magħha u qatt ma kienet nieqsa mill-attenzjoni. Tlett ijiem ilu kont bilqiegħda d-dar tagħha ħdejn sodditha ma’ ħutha u neputija u l-għaqda u s-solidarjetà li rajt hennietli qalbi. Ħin minnhom ġiet f’tagħha, ratni u tbissmitli u, wara,  bdiet tiċċajta ma’ tal-familja. La krib, la qrid, la dwejjaq –avolja kulħadd kien jaf li t-tmiem kien fil-qrib. Kienu jafu x’kellha bżonn dak il-ħin u taw każ tal-bżonnijiet tagħha , mhux li jisfugaw l-ansjetà tagħhom. Ħriġt minn darha b’sens ta’ għaġeb – u gratitudni li assistejt għal xena li ma ninsiha qatt.

Bħalma qatt mhu se ninsa lil D. Mhux biss minħabba t-tlieta u għoxrin sena li ħdimt magħha u mhux biss għax fl-aħħar irnexxielha tieqaf tixrob u tieħu lura f’idejha r-riedni ta’ ħajjitha. Imma għax kelli l-privileġġ li nsir naf mill-qrib mara li batiet u kienet taf tħobb lil kulħadd. U mara li, wara snin twal, irnexxielha tifhem misteru milll-iktar profond: li jekk trid tgħix sew jeħtieġ l-ewwel u qabel kollox titgħallem tħobb lilek innifsek kif xieraq u kif suppost.

7305

Għoxrin sena ilu bħal-lum, raġel twil mar id-Detox Outpatients ifittex tabib. Kien għad kellu fuqu r-riħa tax-xorb taċ-ċelebrazzjonijiet tal-Millennju. Mhux għax qatt kellu bżonn xi skuża ta' xi festa jew oħra biex ilegleg il-whisky: kien jibda minn filgħodu kmieni u jibqa' sejjer sakemm jidħol id-dar filgħaxija. Ix-xogħol baqa' jmur u dmiru jagħmlu kif suppost, imma l-ħajja tal-familja kienet saret rovina. Il-mara xebgħet bit-toqol fuqha biss u tatu ultimatum: jew tieqaf, jew ninfirdu.

M irrealizza x'kien qed jiġri u wasal żmien li kuljum beda jwiegħed lilu nnifsu li l-għada ma jixrobx. Imma minħabba l-lublieba dik il-wegħda seta' jħożżha fil-whisky.

Kien fittex l-għajnuna ta' sedqa, imma għall-bidu kien kollu ta' xejn. Beda jaqta' qalbu: fuq kollox kien ilu jixrob iktar milli kellu żmien. Meta, iktar minn 66 sena ilu, ommu kienet tqila bih, marret għand it-tabib għax it-tarbija ta' ġo fiha ma kinitx tiċċaqlaq. It-tabib taha parir li tibda tixrob ftit alkoħol...

Trabba mdawwar bix-xorb u għall-alkoħol kien mikrum bil-kbir - minn dejjem. Ta' età ċkejkna kien diġà jixrob spiss. Anke ħuh intrikeb mill-marda.

Darbtejn ipprova jiġi għal-laqgħat li kont immexxi jien. Id-darbtejn kien taħt l-influwenza tax-xorb u d-darbtejn, kif daħal, tfajtu 'l barra.

Fit-2 ta' Jannar tal-2000, it-tabib li ra qallu li għandu bżonn ikun diżintossikat. Kull sena Dar l-Impenn, fejn issir id-diżintossikazzjoni, tkun magħluqa sat-3 ta' Jannar minħabba l-waqfa tal-Milied, imma minħabba s-Sur M dik is-sena reġgħet fetħet ġurnata qabel.

Ma kienx jemmen li xi darba għad jieqaf għalkollox. Jgħid sal-lum li l-ħsieb tiegħu kien li jieqaf għal ftit kemm isodd ħalq il-mara, u wara jerġa’ jibda .

Meta kien wasal biex jispiċċa d-diżintosikazzjoni, mar jarah ħaddiem ta’ sedqa, espert ta’ veru. Minn hawn u minn hemm ikkonvinċieh li jekk se jitlaq mingħajr ma jagħmel li kien hemm bżonn, kien sejjer jerġa’ jibda jixrob minnufih. U t-theddida tal-mara kienet għadha mdendla fuq rasu. Pjuttost kontra qalbu daħal jagħmel programm residenzjali. Kienu sħabu tal-programm li mbagħad ikkonvinċewh biex jieħdu bis-serjetà.

Minn dakinhar li M qatagħha li jmur ifittex tabib iktar biex jagħlaq ħalq il-mara milli biex jirranġa ħajtu tassew, għaddew 7305 jum – jekk tgħodd il-ġranet żejda tas-snin biżestili. Imma importanti li tgħoddhom dawk ukoll, għaliex il-mixja sa hawn saret – bħall-mixjiet kollha ta’ min inħeles mill-alkoħoliżmu jew minn xi dipendenza serja oħra – ġurnata b’ġurnata.

M jgħid li ħa deċiżjoni u qatt aktar mhu se jmiss qatra alkoħol ma’ ħalqu. U nifhmuh. Mejjet li rxoxta ma tantx se jersaq bil-ħsieb lejn dak li kien ħasadlu ħajtu. Imma M jaf wkoll kemm l-alkoħol jaf jidħaq bik, jurik id-debba u jqabbiżlek is-serp velenuż tal-ħajja mgħattna u mxajtna ta’ qabel. Għalhekk għadu sal-lum jattendi l-laqgħat: ma jmurx il-melodija li taf issaħħar tgħannilu għanja qarrieqa u ġġiegħlu jaħseb li issa l-problema marret u x-xorb kapaċi jikkontrollah.

Ħajjet M inbidlet bis-sħiħ. Meta jitkellem fuq kif kienet ħajtu u kif inhi llum sħabu jisimgħu b’attenzjoni għax ġarrab u qed jirbaħ. U miegħu ta’ madwaru, li ġarrbu wkoll, qed jirbħu bħalu. Mill-fdalijiet ta' li kien għad baqagħlu għoxrin sena ilu, fassal ħajja ġdida, sabiħa u siewja.

Hu jgħid li tgħallem ħafna mingħandna. Li ma jafx – jew ma japprezzax biżżejjed – hu kemm għallem lilna hu.

Memories of Manuel

Manuel was laid to rest this afternoon. Funerals are strange events, really: a rather surreal juxtaposition of live memories from decades ago and someone you've known all your life unbelievably dead in a box. They are meant to be a celebration of life at a time when physical life has indisputably come to an end.

We knew each other practically from birth. The eldest sons of inseparable twins, both named after our paternal grandfather and born within 6 months of each other and living a five-minute walk away from each other, we inevitably shared many moments of our younger lives.

During Mass, memories flood tsunami-like: 2 boys aged 5 sprinting along the pavement from his grandmother's small green-grocery to Kola's wine-shop. He's somewhat upset because I win: the six-month difference in our ages tells. From the height of my physical and moral superiority I magnanimously let him win the next time round. It must have been the only occasion when my sporting prowess - and moral qualities - outshone his. He was better at football and that was what really counted when you were 14. Of course he went on to become a highly-respected basketball referee and official. My sporting curriculum, on the other hand... Let's move on to other things.

He was better at life too: married till the end to the lovely and sensible Jennifer whom he met at sixth form when all three of us were students there. A devoted husband and doting father and grandfather, he enjoyed a stable family life. He taught regular classes in Primary Schools, then P.E. in a number of educational establishments, and ended his career as a much-loved assistant head of school.

One achievement he must have been very proud of was his induction in the Maltese Olympic Committee Hall of Fame.  Nationally, he made his name as a basketball referee and official famed for uprightness and a gentle firmness. In a way he made mine too: I cannot even begin to estimate the number of times when I was asked if, or it was assumed that, I was the basketball referee; there was even one bizarre occasion when someone insisted that I was the referee because it was me he had seen officiating a match on TV only the other day - and walked off in a huff when I kept explaining it was someone else.

Beyond young adulthood our paths did not often cross but you could count on him when you needed him. A decade or so ago, my work colleagues and I organised a sports day for sedqa alcohol clients and their families. Right on the eve of the event we were informed that, for some reason I have now forgotten, the equipment required to hold the activities would not, after all, be available. I was at my wits’ end. In desperation I contacted Manuel. Within minutes he provided enough sporting gear for us to utilise the next day. Without his prompt help some 50 people would have been very disappointed indeed.

I last met him some 3 years ago at a family wedding. As we chatted and reminisced he looked the picture of health and seemed very happy and serene.  He was in shape, did not smoke or drink in excess and could look forward to many years’ enjoyment of family and his beloved field, birds and basketball. But the Grim Reaper was devising his own nefarious plans.

I never made it to hospital to see him. I was recovering from a bout of the flu and did not think it proper to visit him and risk making things worse. In hindsight it was rather silly of me: he was very near the end and nothing would have made a difference. Perhaps it was because I was hoping against hope that he would somehow pull through. Or maybe it was all an unconscious stratagem to avoid seeing him at death’s door: a quite irrational and pathetic act of denial of my own mortality.

He’s gone now; at least his physical body lies in a cold coffin deep in the damp soil. But his faith and mine assures us that he’s still very much alive on another plane, minding our places and patiently waiting for us to turn up.

So I hope to see you again, Manuel. We’ll chat and reminisce again. Perhaps we will even have the opportunity to race again along some long, celestial pavement. Only this time you’ll have to sweat blood – or whatever it is they do up there when they’re making super-strenuous efforts – to beat me. Au revoir, cousin, au revoir.

Dom Mintoff – Calumnies, Contradictions and Cult

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.