Frans Sammut, the author of Alfred Sant:

Il Vizjoni ghall-Bidla, published a couple of weeks ago,

talks to Marie Benoît about it and its subject whom he says is ‘a relentless crusader against a culture of mendacity and concealment’

In the introduction to his book Mr Sammut mentions a number of qualities which Dr Sant, whom he has known for some 40 years, has. One of them is his humanity. I invite him to comment. “Only people who know Alfred Sant closely can really agree with what I wrote in the book. He is not the type of person one can easily fathom unless one reads his books and writings with a certain amount of care. I regard myself as one of the few fortunate enough to find out what a pleasant, caring person moves behind the man whose façade portrays to the world a French type of ‘cultivated politeness.’” Mr Sammut comments that in the Maltese environment this characteristic may come over as denoting a rather cold personality. “We are a jovial, gregarious lot, naturally inclined to prefer talkative extroverts to quiet, collected persons. I like him as ‘a man’s man’, one who does not pose as a macho but who is as tough as nails and the ideas he expresses are all well thought out, the tip of a snow capped peak much larger than the islet of Comino. As I said in the book, I am confident that he can steer the ship of state away from this despicable culture of concealment that has long stifled any form of progress.”

What in Mr Sammut’s view makes Alfred Sant an ‘intellectual’ as stated in his book? He comments that Alfred Sant does not easily fit any pattern or paradigm but that he is an intellectual who is uneasy with personality cults. “This self-effacing attitude makes him vulnerable to barely literate predators, coffee table book writers whose ability to dish out lengthy articles in Haw-Haw English encourages them to bask in the illusion of having a place next to literary authors!” He continues: “When I describe Alfred Sant as an intellectual I am not referring to his university degrees, but to his way of thinking and his actions. I quote eminent sociologists like Frank Furedi (“intellectuals are not considered to be such by the work they do but by the way they behave and the values they embrace”) by way of substantiating my definition of an intellectual, and what is more, an intellectual who entered the political arena in the full knowledge that this place is no Oxbridge debating hall. On the contrary. Already in his books, even prior to joining the political fray, Alfred Sant had amply written about corruption which becomes so uncontrollably rampant that it prompts the less unscrupulous to resign their public posts en bloc.”

Alfred Sant’s literary prowess became evident when he was barely 18. Winning the Broadcasting Authority’s TV drama award with Min hu Evelyn Costa? catapulted him to star status among his generation of writers. This play features regularly in the Maltese literature curriculum at tertiary level thus pointing to Sant’s precocious maturity who significantly started his career as a novelist with the contemporaneous L-Ewwel Weraq tal-Bajtar.

I recall receiving a copy of it when it was first published and I was living in Mauritius. This robust first novel depicts the rituals and trials of adolescence in the Sixties – years of turbulence that produced a new generation of writers. Mr Sammut writes about this and as a matter of fact names one of the first chapters in the book L-Ewwel Weraq tal-Bajtar. Frans recalls that it was first read by Charles Arrigo and subsequently published in It-Torca. “I encourage young readers to read this as well as his other books which convey powerful intellectual messages,” he comments.

As I personally recall and as Mr Sammut mentions in his book, in the Sixties, Alfred Sant was an activist in the cultural and literary scene even when working with the diplomatic corps in Brussels. The author writes: “I came to know him personally when I invited him to join the fledgling Moviment Qawmien Letterarju (Movement for the Promotion of Literature) and during the drama evenings he helped organize at the University Theatre in Valletta in the Xsenuru series I came to know your goodself too. By the way I vividly remember the vocal intonation you gave to the role you acted embodying the Establishment.” How the time flies!

Alfred Sant spent the first half of the Seventies studying at the most prestigious universities in France and the US where he obtained his doctorate, and the second half working in Malta. The writing never stopped. Mr Sammut comments: “During the entire decade he was producing one book after another in an endless exposition of his liberal and progressive ideas which he subsequently introduced into the party he joined. You may be wanting to ask me how on earth a Science graduate who obtained his M.Sc before he was 20 also managed to enter the arts scene with such aplomb. Believe you me, I still cannot understand how, to this day. Only a very good mind could manage that, don’t you think?” I cannot but agree.

Mr Sammut who has been a close friend and literary collaborator of Dr Sant’s for almost half a century is the first to be categorical about another quality: “He is absolutely incorruptible. I can vouchsafe for that. And he’s a generous soul. I know that there were times when he helped common friends who were abroad and in great financial straits.”

In the book the author further comments that what certain journalists are risking is helping and abetting certain politicians to continue with their despicable behaviour: “Let us say it is a kind of dictatorship. I have always disliked dictatorships. I have always been a leftist liberal. I have no qualms in advertising my admiration for the likes of Carmel Caccopardo and value their social role under whichever government happens to be in power. Who would deny that corruption and omertà (the cover-up culture still permeating our northern neighbour despite its long membership in the enlightened European Union) prevail in our small republic too? Who would quarrel with the need to eradicate such a contemptuous culture from our midst? Yet, who has spoken more vociferously and uncompromisingly against it than Alfred Sant?”

Mr Sammut reminds us in the book that although there are those who seek to inculcate distrust regarding Alfred Sant among their readership “they conveniently forget that it was Alfred Sant who eradicated from the political scene all signs of thuggery and such like behaviour related to the darker shades of politicking. Likewise, they ignore the fact that the 1998 debacle which brought down his government was to a large degree inspired by motives that were not totally unrelated. Are we expected to be so stupid as to believe that these journalists mean well?”

In Chapter 5 the author refers to anonymous journalists like Roamer of The Sunday Times “who week in, week out, perform mental acrobatics simply to twist facts and confuse their readers on any ideas put forth by Alfred Sant. The substance of his column has now reached an all time low. But what I find indigestible is not really the obvious bias in that column. Rather it is Roamer’s pretension to being the resident of some kind of ivory tower where we mere mortals (allowed only to eat uncultured cake) cannot hope to enter and from the pinnacles of which is spewed ‘clever’ information in rapid alternation with barely disguised insinuations and innuendos regarding anyone, anybody, who may be useful to the culture of concealment that, in turn, keeps the big money-spinners happy.” He dedicates quite a few pages to this subject. “These are the so-called writers I simply cannot stand. For this reason in the book I try to demonstrate just how vacuous their remarks can be.” Mr Sammut quoted, rather extensively, Roamer’s claim expressed in the ‘cultural corner’ of the said column published a couple of weeks back. “‘Who knows’, quoth Roamer, that Chesterton visited Malta? To which I would answer: ‘Who, among those who have some knowledge of the local cultural scene, does not know that GKC visited Malta in 1934, that his secretary Dorothy Collins called on Dun Karm, then serving at the National Library to inform him of GKC’s stay at the Osborne Hotel, following which, Dun Karm visited him at tea time on the same day and had a long conversation with him regarding poetry and other matters including GKC’s frail health due to which he had to cut short his journey to the Holy Land and return back to England?” All this information was publicized by Dun Karm himself in the September 1934 issue of Il-Malti. I should think the majority of the Maltese who have some interest in national culture were aware of the above. But I wanted to make sure that readers get to know what kind of culture aliens we are saddled with. Talk of illegal aliens! I, for one, am more worried about the legal ones.”

Mr Sammut said that he has gone to town on this matter because it illustrates that the cynical, but deadly, grip certain ‘friends of friends’ have on the media has rendered the national debate on any subject from politics to song festivals and football matches almost impossible. Roamer is held by many to be some kind of oracle. With one fell swoop I believe I have shown just how shallow he and his ilk can be.”

Mr Sammut, continues to elaborate in this chapter and comments that in this book “I strongly sought to portray a writer-politician who has been honestly seeking to clean up the Aegean stables and start afresh. As things are turning out, what with mass resignations, massive exposure that puts paid to the culture of concealment, the mythic Greek hero who carried out the original cleansing may well meet his match during the current electoral campaign and resign his laurels when the results at the hustings are announced. On this score I cannot comment any longer. After 8 March we shall know the verdict.”