A mere 17 months ago, Malta was going through the usual five-year euphoria, when time and work and sense come to a grinding halt, and we Mediterranean folk relax to loudly and animatedly discuss our favourite pastime with no fear of being disciplined or punished. It is a period of time that is similar to the three days of Carnival, in that society sheds all sense of responsibility and takes to the squares and the streets of our islands. There is almost a feeling of relief in knowing that actually nobody is watching and therefore rules can be broken with impunity, for at election time, all sorts of authorities go on vacation. Stress is only suffered by those who have much to lose with a change of administration.
An election campaign is a time of extra-terrestrial dreams. The future was a large fresco painted rosy and smooth with large brush strokes. Projects and promises were hurled with adroit ease. We were reminded that we had never had it so good and all that was necessary was to stretch out our hands and reap the imminent bonanzas. Politicians went hoarse protesting their commitment to the electorate, their hands chapped red with the thumping of backs and the pressing of flesh. The usual glossy manifestos were distributed, to be read by the few and stored mainly by the opposing party, eager to keep tabs on how many promises would fail to be fulfilled.
Among the salient ones were a smaller government more in line with the needs of a small nation, a total reform of Mepa, which henceforth would act solely in the good interests of the ordinary citizens of the county and which would be rendered transparent, efficient and accountable. We were also promised fewer taxes and, above all else, a government for the people based on dialogue, openness and honesty.
As days passed, the hidden truth began unfolding and the state of the nation’s coffers surfaced. Enemalta was bankrupt. The Prime Minister could hide it no longer, despite having denied its financial problems on TV for all to hear. Arrogance superseded consultation and sky-high tariffs were imposed, hitting the business communities hard and further stripping families of hard-earned cash. Those who couldn’t afford to consume the same thousands of units of electricity of some households, had to switch off lights, computers, water heaters and all other electric appliances, which henceforth we were advised we had better carefully ration, both in the interests of the household budget and to help save the world.
The world reciprocated by ushering in an international financial crisis. Our Prime Minister prematurely boasted that we were hardly affected, even if BOV suffered an unquantifiable loss, factories closed down or applied shorter working weeks, tourism reached the bottom of the pit and jobs became daily more scarce.
As people’s pockets dried up, as banks recalled their dues, as investment practically vanished into thin air, our political managers tried to solve the problem in Malta’s time-honoured way by applying a thick layer of cosmetics.
Instead of taking the bull by the horns and combating the financial crisis with imaginative, long-reaching, innovative ideas, financial stimuli and rewarding initiative, investment, creativity and invention, our government embarked on a programme of self-praise and comparisons with other countries supposedly faring worse than us. Missing the trees for the wood, it failed to take in how other governments were encouraging and stimulating their economies to face the future, one that even the economic pundits did not dare describe, let alone forecast.
Instead, the government went into spin. It gave Renzo Piano over a million euros to design a new parliament house at City Gate at an estimated cost of many millions, when Malta already had a national debt of around four billion euros. The PM closed his ears to the howl of protests, for he was intent on showing that after the catastrophic loss of the Battle of the Cathedral Hole, he would show leadership, even if that meant ignoring the cries of the ever-increasing multitudes being slowly sucked nearer the poverty trap.
The position became so bad that one government apologist actually asked him to forget the frown he was carrying and put on the loveable, smiling, affable face that had won him the election. Interestingly, while dancing around the ring trying to land a knockout blow for Malta, the two parties had already signed away a sizeable chunk of Malta’s sovereignty to the elite in Brussels where, let it not be forgotten, we had purchased a house bigger than that of any other member state in the EU bloc. Truly, money is no problem for some people.
Having won by the most slender of majorities, I would have expected to see a bringing together of as much talent as possible to achieve cohesion and a successful five-year programme; a bringing together of the best and most experienced minds to help this rock survive the tsunamis that were heading its way. A government that unified people in the national interest, outlawed political pique and that acted fairly and selflessly.
But it was not to be. If anything, attitudes became even more hardened, to the extent that now the PM is facing serious cracks inside his own party, always the sign of a loose helm. And that is not good for the country. Better a bad government, it is said, than no government. The country is facing serious problems and it is hardly the time for the governing party to turn in on itself.
Our country needs a change of direction – a future based on courage, initiative, motivation, creativity and reward, and not just on budget day. The country needs ideas, revolutionary ideas! It needs to be pro-active and to operate within a framework of transparency and accountability that will win back the citizens’ trust. We need to instil courage and hope in the rising generation by showing them that hard work pays and rewards. Our young people, indeed anybody with the courage to forge ahead if he knows that he will reap the fruits of his labours, need to be let off the leash.
Only if the government manages to revitalise people, to show them an attainable future that will be theirs to forge, will the country, like the phoenix, truly rise out of the ashes in which it seems to be buried.
A reality or a dream
It all depends on us and our courage to change, to create, to invent, to revolutionise, for the future can meet our wildest dreams.
Dr Josie Muscat is the
Leader of Azzjoni Nazzjonali