If Satan were available for an interview, the journalist who’d manage to do it would become the paragon of the profession. Interviewing the Great Deceiver would give readers a chance to discover how deception works.

But let’s not talk about Satan. Let’s talk about politics instead. Maltese politics in particular, and last week’s infamous interview with Joseph Muscat.

Should the press deliver Muscat a platform? I can appreciate the reasons behind both answers to that question. Irrespective of who’s right, however, now that the interview has taken place, I think we should take the opportunity to unravel further Muscat’s worldview, lack of values, and grip on Labour and the current Prime Minister.

Last week’s interview offers enough raw material to write a new book about Muscat. But I’ll zero in on only a couple of points.

First, it is beyond doubt that Muscat oozes charm. He’s what in the vernacular we would call simpatiku. Yes, he did look a tad wistful, under the weather and certainly not radiant, but despite it all, he exuded resilience and a never-say-die attitude. The man’s skin is as thick as a crocodile’s. Thank goodness, he didn’t cry, as is his wont.

Personal and Moral Attributes

Charm and affability are personal attributes; integrity is a moral one. Oscar Wilde famously wrote that it’s only shallow people who do not judge by first impressions. In his inimitable ironic and sarcastic way, Wilde was clearly pointing out that personal attributes – primarily, affability – usually attract the shallow; it’s the others who scan for moral ones. The Picture of Dorian Gray, for instance, though considered a third-rate novel, is an insightful portrayal of the tensions between personal and moral attributes taken to the limit.

Muscat excels in personal attributes. He’s actually one of the most affable persons you’ll ever meet in your life. He’s a calm, caring, charismatic, circumspect cultivator of candour, capable of convincing you he’s competent… He’s so good he’s a conman.

Then there are his moral attributes.

Which brings me to my second point.

Muscat outdid himself trying to convey his unconventional conviction that we should learn from 13-year-olds and the set of values they espouse.

If we needed any further proof of Muscat’s lack of moral compass, here it is.

Of course teenagers have a different set of values from adults! That’s why they’re called “adolescents”!

Instead of listening to one’s own children and their friends to learn from them, a mature adult would teach them grown-up values!

Muscat objectifies his own children, treating them as sources of “market intelligence” instead of persons who need his moral direction to grow into stable, well-balanced adults. It’s so sad.

In his warped worldview, Muscat believes that the value set embraced by adolescents is raw data for adults to crunch when plotting the way ahead. Doesn’t he believe that 13-year-olds constitutionally need adults to point them the right way in life? Perhaps in his own perverted way, he does: he had hinted that he would respect his daughters’ will were they to seek an abortion for an unexpected pregnancy. But it’s as clear as daylight that not once does he stop to ponder on the possibility of a proper code of morality. The man sees others – including his own children – as tools that enable him to reach his goals. A personage he is (or was), but a sad one too.

And this affable, confused half-man was Malta’s Prime Minister for six years! He reminds one of Charlie Sheen’s character in the sit-com Two and a half Men: lost in his narcissism and lack of moral identity…

Only that ours wasn’t comedy but a national tragedy.

From Uniting to Divisive Figure

The most striking element to emerge from the interview is that from uniting figure Muscat has degenerated into a divisive one. The interviewer rightly pointed out that quite a few one-time loyal supporters now reject Muscat; indeed, a MISCO survey has found that about a third of voters who opted for Labour in 2017 now regret their choice. At the same time, Muscat is claiming – sincerely, it seems – that he feels many people still love him.

But pre-2016, the situation wasn’t ambivalent. For eight whole years, Muscat had been cementing the different strains and currents within Labour and seducing new voters. Post-Panama Papers, however, cracks appeared and from a figure of unity, Muscat became a figure of division. Whereas it could be true that there still are some people who adore him (mostly hailing from the uneducated walks of life), it’s also true that Labourites with post-secondary education see Muscat exactly for what he is: a con-man who tries to seduce and deceive with his faux charm and faux affability.

Explaining “faux” to certain people may prove a daunting challenge. Meaning that Robert Abela will have to keep the votive candles burning before the icon of Saint Joseph the Crook, and also serve as thurifer during the rituals in his honour. The cult of Saint Joseph is too deeply entrenched to remove without pain or cost, and Dr Abela lacks the charisma necessary to launch an alternative cult, of, say, Saint Robert the Puce.

So to keep the Red Compact intact, Dr Abela will have to find a way to live with the cult of St Joseph, worshipping and blaspheming at the same time. Since he’s of Qormi stock, he’ll understand me if I argue that he has no choice but to shout “Viva Ġużepp!” and continue sotto voce, “… la x-Xitan irid hekk!”

Satanas Vult

I trust I’ll be forgiven for spending a few words on that last sentence, for the benefit of those who never heard the popular saying, “Viva San Filep, la x-Xitan irid hekk!”: “Long live St Philip, since the Devil wills it!”

Some background would be in order. Two neighbouring towns, both alike in dignity, hold some ancient grudge: Ħaż-Żebbuġ and Ħal Qormi. Up to a certain point in the past, they expressed their collective identities exclusively in the cults of St Philip and St George respectively.

Legend has it that a cohort of Żebbuġin (from the town which gave Malta some of her brightest intellectuals and some of her toughest corsair crewmen) stopped a hapless Qormi (from the town of excellent bakers and industrious artisans) and pressured him to acclaim the greatness of St Philip. The devout worshipper of St George didn’t really want to betray his patron saint, but being outnumbered, he had no choice. He gave in and shouted at the top of his voice, “Viva San Filep” (“Long live St Philip”)… followed by a sotto voce “la x-xitan irid hekk!” (“since the Devil wills it!”).

The irony would certainly not be lost on those who cherished this story – St Philip of (the Sicilian town of) Agira was a thaumaturge who exorcised demons. Why would Satan extol his nemesis?

Interestingly, St Philip’s also a patron of the United States Army Special Forces. How this came to be, I do not know. Perhaps the Americans decided to enlist St Philip on the eve of the 1943 invasion of Sicily, as St Philip is the “Saint of the Sicilians” and they envisaged they’d have to face off legions of native demons and fiends while liberating the island. Who knows?

The Sicilian author Andrea Camilleri wrote an insightful little tale postulating the thesis that the Devil can lead anybody to break their principles. Camilleri was a post-Christian rationalist (or at least he thought he was), so his story might offend the sensibilities of Christian readers. It’s not my intention to offend anyone: I ask readers to read this with an open mind and  go beyond the surface to find the message. I think there are post-Christians who are irreverent (e.g., Charlie Hebdo, Dan Brown), post-Christians who are not irreverent (e.g., Andrea Camilleri, José Saramago), and others who haven’t figured out where they stand (e.g., Martin Scorsese). I might write more about this in the future; for now I just want to say that Brown and the idiots at Charlie Hebdo want to offend; Camilleri and Saramago employ the semiotics of the Christian religion to analyse contemporary society. (Scorsese is more of a stylist than an intellectual.) If you think about it, Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam is irreverent to people (like me, say) who don’t think there’s an old, white-bearded man in the sky but think of God in transcendental terms.

Anyway, here it goes…

One late afternoon, exhausted after long hours of preaching to and helping the multitudes, Jesus asks Peter to keep everybody (including the journalists) at bay while he finds some place quiet to meditate and rest. As Jesus is engulfed by his thoughts, a curved old beggar approaches, shrouded in nothing but a cloth around his groin and abject poverty. The man looks intently at Jesus and extends his hand. Jesus is about to put his hand in his pocket when he notices a gleam in the old beggar’s eye. It’s none other than Satan in disguise!

What should Jesus do? He certainly doesn’t wish to give Satan any money. But out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of the journalists watching carefully from afar, where they’re being kept at bay. Jesus can clearly see them instructing their cameramen to zoom in and film the scene of the Messiah and the Beggar, unaware that the Beggar’s none other than Satan. “Does Jesus do what he preaches?” “Will he give alms to the poor, curved old beggar?”

Jesus looks up at the Heavens and then across at the journalists, and then studies the Great Deceiver standing before him disguised as the old beggar. Jesus bites his lip, slowly puts his hand in his pocket, grabs a few coins and hands them to the bugger.

That evening, the news bulletins opens with the breaking news of Jesus’ generosity despite being exhausted after a hard day’s work.

Caiaphas watches the eight-o’clock news and he’s sure as hell not amused by what he sees. But that’s another story.

The parallels between Andrea Camilleri’s tale and Prime Minister Abela’s predicament are striking.

My Personal Video Library 

Danger: Diabolik, a 1968 movie directed by Mario Bava inspired by the Italian Diabolik comics, recounts the adventures of genius but ruthless criminal “Diabolik” who steals treasures for his fantastically beautiful girlfriend. It’s nowadays considered a cult movie, but it hasn’t taken my fancy – the narrative pace is unjustifiably slow, the dialogue dull, and the story one-dimensional.

A new movie adaptation of the comics character was scheduled for release last December, but has been postponed to this coming December because of the ongoing pandemic. Let’s see whether the 2021 release will be better than its 1968 predecessor.

Two and a half Men, an American sit-com that aired from 2003 to 2015, was at its best when Charlie Sheen starred in it, as the depressed, filthy-rich Charlie Harper, a millionaire songwriter who can’t grapple with his alcoholism and sexual depravity both originating from the dysfunctional upbringing given him by his narcissistic, sex-maniac mother. To compound matters, his equally disturbed brother, a self-confessed “parasitic leech”, moves in permanently after being kicked out of home by his ex-wife, bringing along his pre-teenage son who will eventually grow into an adolescent dumb pothead.

The episodes are essentially yarns about sexual predation and failed relationships. In a sense, it’s a rehash of quintessentially Jewish themes: mother-son convolutions, fraternal envy, ambiguity toward sexual mores… stuff you’d expect to find in Freud. The series was Chuck Lorre’s brainchild, and Lorre’s a Jew.

Sheen and Lorre didn’t get on well together. During a radio-broadcast rant, Sheen called Lorre by his Jewish name, leading onlookers to conclude Sheen disliked him for his Jewishness. I, on the other hand, find Lorre’s Jewishness attractive. (The Jewishness theme is also explored in another Lorre sit-com – The Big Bang Theory – through Howard Holowitz, the character who keeps cracking mock-self-ironic jokes about Jewish mother-son relationships.)

Through the Jewish penchant for dissecting family dynamics, we possibly understand ourselves.