Ever get the feeling that, for all your country’s claims to be steadily progressing in all departments, it’s actually sliding relentlessly back towards a new Dark Age?

Do you sometimes get the impression that, in spite of countless supposedly autonomous authorities intended specifically to protect you from abuse, the man in the street is still powerless against the combined vested interests of a select, government-approved oligarchy?

Don’t worry, you are not alone. In fact, you are not even particularly unique. All over the world, there are quite literally millions upon millions of people who, like you, are living in a Third World country. The only thing is, not all of them have realised it yet.

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So, if you still have any doubts regarding the state of development of your own country, here is a simple, step-by-step test you can all carry out at home, to see if you, too, can claim to be a citizen of the Third World.

1. It’s the infrastructure, stupid.

Contrary to popular belief, the state of the roads is not, in itself, a direct reflection of a country’s development. On the contrary: it is the importance given to the state of the roads that gives the whole Third World game away.

In developed countries, the need for good roads has been a sine qua non ever since the Romans invented the concept of a “good road” to begin with (as well as, while they were at it, the expression “sine qua non.”)

This is why the re-construction of a collapsed road is not generally considered a newsworthy event in any Western democracy; on the contrary, the minister responsible will usually be terribly embarrassed about the whole thing, and if he or she says anything at all, it will be something like: “We apologise for the inconvenience.”

By way of contrast, good roads are almost unheard of in the Third World (unless, of course, there’s an international summit involving African dictators in the offing... in which case, entire networks of hastily concocted thoroughfares will appear overnight as if by magic, only to gradually deteriorate to their previous forlorn state once the African dictators have left) A fact which explains why around 45 per cent of the news in any Third World country will invariably concern the state of that country’s roads.

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And so, if, in your own country, the infrastructure minister tends to draw a lot of attention to himself when inaugurating a newly re-asphalted stretch of road – often as not trumpeting the achievement with all the fanfare usually reserved for Victory Day in World War Three: you know, fireworks, brass bands playing “joyous marches”, papal blessings, dancing girls flown over specifically for the occasion from the Moulin Rouge, etc., etc. – well, the chances are you are living in the Third World.

2. Take me to your “Leader”

Political nomenclature tends to be a bit of a give-away, too. For unlike their counterparts in the West, rulers of Third World countries tend to enjoy being referred to, not by their proper title (e.g., Prime Minister, President, Wazir, Big Chief, Big Brother, etc), but rather by lofty and grandiloquent sobriquets such as: “the Glorious Leader of the Revolution”; “The Rais”; “Il-Mexxej”; or simply, “Il-Kap.”

And like tin-pot dictators the world over, the Mexxej in question will invariably crave constant attention for every little accomplishment, being the sort of annoying little ego-maniac to feel hopelessly insecure unless his name and face are firmly and indelibly imprinted onto the nation’s consciousness forever.

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This might explain why Third World countries all share a veritable obsession with plastering their leaders’ names and faces on any open space available: on billboards, on posters, on pamphlets, in framed photographs hanging in the hallways of party kazini, or crudely spray-painted on walls and public monuments, alongside words like “Vote”, “Number” and “One”.

But above all, the typical Third World politician will want to see his name proudly engraved on commemorative plaques of every conceivable size, shape and available shade of marble, and in every corner of every town, village or hamlet... and even then, to commemorate achievements of every conceivable degree of importance, from the reasonably understandable, to the utterly ridiculous.

Just as new roads are announced with all the pomp and ceremony of a Big Fat Greek Wedding, so, too, will any of the following momentous developments invariably come accompanied by the solemn unveiling of a commemorative plaque: The planting of a tree. The paving of a square. The restoration of a rubble wall. The installation of a new bench at a public park. The opening of a brand new car showroom. The unveiling of some ghastly new monument trying to pass itself off as “art”. The destruction of a Roman ruin to create a new floodwater culvert. And so on, and so forth, and so fifth.

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Anyway, next time you choose to go for a stroll along your favourite seaside promenade, count the number of commemorative plaques bearing the names of ministers, prime ministers, presidents and their personal drivers. (I counted 19 on the Sliema sea front alone, of which my favourite remains the one near the Tiguglio in Spinola Bay: “This tree was planted by the Hon. Dom Mintoff in 1971. Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!” Nothing remains, except the rotting and much urinated-upon remains of a stump, embedded in beer cans, cigarette butts and a substance that looks suspiciously like fossilized vomit.)

3. Godliness is next to Gonziness

Now, if your Third World country happens to be particularly underdeveloped – in other words, if your Mexxej is more of a megalomaniac than permitted by the Megalomaniac Autocratic Dictators convention (MAD) – then, like the Pharaohs of Egypt or the Inca Kings of old, the chances are he will very quickly come to view himself as an embodiment of the Divine.

To be fair, it’s not always the Mexxej’s own fault. For part of the whole Prime Minister package in any Third World country involves the exercising of all-but absolute power... which, encouraged by a complex power hierarchy structure that depends on his very omnipotence for its own survival, in time will invariably result in absolute control-freakery of the type last seen in the Soviet Union under Leonid Breshnev.

Example: the Mexxej wants a golf course built? Who cares if it’s outside the development zone, or if a bunch of farmers will lose their livelihoods? There is an entire authority called MEPA in place, whose job it is to see that His will is done, in this and all other things, Amen.

And if the Mexxej wants to extend the development boundaries beyond what had been agreed upon in previously published structure plans, what does it matter if ordinary fools question the motivation behind the decision? After all, isn’t that why we have this thing called “Parliament”? So that whatever the Mexxej says, goes?

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However, if you are still unsure whether your own Mexxej suffers from this particular delusion, there are a few unmistakable symptoms to look out for. Of these, the most glaring tend to take the form gushing, grovelling and truly stomach-churning speeches, often delivered at Party General Conferences by high-ranking officials (such as, for argument’s sake, the party treasurer), in which the Great Leader is invariably compared to some immortal Biblical character such as Abraham, Moses or Jesus Christ Himself... to which, of course, he will solemnly intone: “Arise! For thou art Peter Darmanin, and upon this Rock I shall build my Communications Strategy...”

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Still not convinced? Never fear. There is one final test to put the whole thing beyond any reasonable doubt, and that is:

4. Criticise, and be discredited

Go on, I dare you. Write a letter to the paper. Attend a public demonstration, and if you’re really gutsy, be seen waving about a (shock, horror!) placard, with an (gasp, faint!) anti-government slogan written all over it. Alternatively, like a certain Fantozzi before you, simply slam your fist down on the desktop in your office, and shout: “Il Megapresidente è Gonzi!”

Try it, and see what happens. If your country is truly Third World material, it is likely to be one of three things:

One: you will immediately become the subject of a concerted e-mail/SMS campaign, orchestrated by top officials of the party in government, aimed at discrediting you professionally through lies and insinuations (in some cases, attempts will even be made to plant these lies in an independent newspaper, in the hope that they will be published unquestioned.)

Two: you will be surprised to read a thinly veiled character assassination attempt on your person, disguised as a “leading article” in one of the many party-owned newspapers, which will then spill out into an concerted media campaign against you all over the party-owned website, radio and television stations (Oh yes, I almost forgot: another sure-fire Third World sign is that all the significant media channels are either directly owned, or somehow controlled, by the political parties in parliament – see “control freakery” above.)

Three: you might be lucky, and find that the job of publicly discrediting you will fall to the more brainless among the army of squidgy party invertebrates that seems to populate the entire public service these days. In this case, the chances are that the moron in question, being a moron, will either bungle the whole thing up, or take the path of least resistance, and simply lie through his teeth.

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And so we come to the end of our Third World test, and what can I say? Congratulations: We really are the weakest link...