Josanne Cassar

The last few weeks have certainly given new meaning to the term “dirty campaigning”. If this is going to be the level of debate before we go to the polls, it won’t be Charlon Gouder who’ll be emigrating, but the average citizen at whom all this is ostensibly directed.

Although I have been predicting that the election would be held in November, unless Dr Gonzi wakes up one morning very soon and calls a snap election, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. You know what that means, don’t you – that we have at least four more months of this. That means spending Christmas, New Year, Carnival and possibly Easter with the shadow of the election looming over our heads.

Good God.

Frankly, I don’t think most of us can endure much more of this petty squabbling. More baffling is how the politicians are going to sustain our interest and maintain the momentum for so long when people are already showing signs of campaign fatigue.

I wonder, for example, how many viewers were watching Pierre Portelli on Net TV on Tuesday conducting his political discussion as opposed to Gizelle on One TV? (smart move, Lou, eh?)

That the campaign has already reached a kind of frenzied crescendo is obvious from what happened last weekend at the PN General Council where delegates launched into impassioned eulogies about the Prime Minister who seemed to be blushing and yet squirming with pleasure. I thought some of the speakers were going to break down and cry.

What a sight.

But caught up as they are in the hysterics of what Joe Saliba has called a “do or die” election (as if there is any other kind in Malta), tactical mistakes are being made. The allegations about Dr Alfred Sant’s supposed drinking problem have mushroomed from a mere whispering campaign into a full-blown televised accusation by Dr Austin Gatt that has landed him in court. The gloves are off, and what might have started as sparring has now turned into like something from the Fight Club.

With Malta’s leadership at stake this is something that needs to be cleared up once and for all. If Dr Sant has a drinking problem, the public has a right to know. But if it is just a malicious, deceitful rumour, it should be exposed for what it is, so that the election can be fought on some real issues.

Instead, what we are getting is the image of the hapless footballer Michael Mifsud who was whisked from the airport to find himself centre stage being used by the PN as an example of how well the Maltese can do abroad. Apart from the fact that it seemed like Gonzi was taking credit for Michael’s success (what? Has the Prime Minister become a football coach now?), there was also that irritating reference to “the Maltese not needing to feel inferior to anyone”.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt inferior to anyone in my life, so what was Gonzi on about? Speak for yourself please.

Labour meanwhile has tripped up on its fair share of naïve blunders lately, particularly when it makes phone calls to editors on what should or should not be published. Maybe they should have a new mantra: “Repeat after me – if you are going to phone an editor, chances are you will be quoted.”

Meanwhile, those ominous, long-winded, grey and black adverts called “Facing Facts” (we are now on Number 5), keep repeating that the worst possible thing that could happen to Malta would be to wake up to find Alfred Sant is Prime Minister.

The strategy is to scare off voters by painting a spooky scenario of what it would be like under a Labour government. (Although his opponents might say that Sant’s performance in Birzebbuga was enough to spook anyone).

Actually, it’s really quite easy to stir up misgivings in an electorate: most people deep down are not happy with change, and would rather continue to sail along, feeling comfortable in a “better the devil you know” kind of way. But this comfort zone can lull you into a false sense of security, making you feel that everything is peachy keen when, in fact, the foundations of terra ferma are crumbling under your feet.

I think the Nationalist Party has always excelled in creating an illusion that everything is just great, thumbs up, full steam ahead, even though evidence to the contrary is all around us: missed deadlines, badly managed projects, budgets gone haywire, craters instead of roads, and an absolutely filthy island.

Perhaps what they need is a sensible, level-headed woman holding the purse strings, who is used to juggling the numerous bills required to run a household efficiently, and who never, ever goes over budget because she knows where every single cent is being spent.

Then there’s that other campaigning device I like to call “because I said so”.

If I tell you that the economy is booming and we’ve never had it so good, does that make it true just because I said so?

Well, apparently, that is the current tactic being used by some politicians and sections of the media (maybe they think if they say it often enough it will magically come true). But when you juxtapose this statement with the reality of rising household costs, relentless bills dropping in the mailbox, and the constant depletion of one’s bank account as standing orders are fulfilled and cash is withdrawn to cover living expenses – the two realities simply don’t tally.

Just how does one go about measuring what is truly a good standard of living and how much of it is artificial, based on credit cards, loans and bounced cheques?

The recent case of a local singer whose life of luxury was just one big fantasy exemplifies all this. “Living beyond his means” was an understatement. When the bubble burst he left a trail of creditors behind him all scrambling to recoup their money.

Speak to those in the know and they will tell you that the property market is at a standstill, people are losing their homes and businesses, and the small claims tribunal is bursting with companies trying to get their money from customers who haven’t paid.

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But wait. It is not all gloom and doom. Apparently Dr Gonzi is pleased as punch because he’s getting lots of fan mail as people take up his offer to write to him with their suggestions for his final budget before the election.

This latest ploy reminds me of a woman who finally decides to leave her husband after years of neglect only for him to stop her at the door and ask, “Darling, what can I do to make you stay?”

Who could really blame her if her reaction is, “Huh? NOW you ask me?!” before whacking him on the head with a heavy frying pan.