There should be no doubt left that this electoral campaign is slowly but surely changing the face – and balls – of Maltese politics. Things we have both loved and hated all along are being discarded, old methods and styles are being replaced by newer, slicker ones, and politicians, spearheaded by Labour’s likely lad Joseph Muscat, have even switched to a new vocabulary that, even at this early stage, augurs well for the future.

We are often very critical of our politics and politicians, but in the end we have always ended up keenly taking sides and bringing up the same arguments as those tabled on the national platform. It has been like that for donkey’s years – a divided Malta periodically doing electoral pirouettes in recognition of a natural process known as the political cycle, in between elongated power eras such as Labour’s 17-year stint (1971-1987) and the Nationalists’ still-going 25-year trot interrupted for two short years (1996-1998) when Alfred Sant had actually – and oh-so-casually – broken the 10-year threshold a year ahead of schedule.

There was a time, a long one at that, when mass meetings were strictly for the Labour camp, as were the flags, badges and slogans, until the emergence in 1977 of Eddie Fenech Adami, who changed the psyche of the Nationalist Party – many say for the better, some insist for the worse – and helped mobilise both its supporters and a growing middle-class army into some no less memorable public manifestations. Today, 13 years into the new millennium, no longer does either party put mass meetings high on its agenda, which is understandable. They realise they can reach out to a much larger audience on TV.

Public gatherings still take place, of course, but they are smaller, much better organised, highly civilised and professionally staged. People love live performances, especially since they are also part of the whole election package that can be seen on the small (well, not so small anymore) screen.

The door-to-door political salesmanship is no longer an innovation, but it is still part of the new electioneering method. Many people are more wont to invite inside politicians of all persuasions and discuss with them – even challenge them over – the issues that concern them. While a small minority of politicians and citizens still think the occasion is merely an opportunity to offer and receive a basketful of promises or to present and exploit the decaying fruit of incumbency, most have grown to see it as more of a personal tête-à-tête that happily goes beyond traditional ideologies and political allegiances.

The change in Maltese politics that is undeniably occurring has to be attributed to Joseph Muscat. The fact is that we have two disparately distant characters vying for the premiership. The current incumbent, Lawrence Gonzi, belongs to an old-school right-wing mentality, while his opponent, a new centre-left future thinker, offers a realistic view of the way ahead as one nation, rather than as two perpetually warring tribes seeking to balance their turns in the seat of power.

As a result, drastic change is in the air and thick on the ground. Not only that, but it is being acted out on a fast-changing stage where ecologically and economically the world is going through breathtakingly unfamiliar and testing times. Rather than the PN’s half-baked political manifesto, it all really boils down to a clear national choice: either a blast from the past seeking to justify a stumbling economy or a fresh new direction into the future based on meritocracy and a welcome end to pathetic, old feuds.

Like Kevin Rudd, one of Australia’s most likeable politicians in decades, Joseph Muscat has managed to convince many on both sides of the political arena that he is “an alternative, not an echo”. He showed this even before his party delegates chose him to lead them following the bitter experience of the 2008 general election, when he was openly declaring his own views and standpoints on issues like divorce, by doing which he knew he was risking his chances with the less adventurous members inside that tense hall.

He has grown so quickly on the national political scene that most people now rightly see as infantile the comments of such PN spokesmen as Victor Scerri and Marthese Portelli who, in their recent addresses to party councillors, came up with empty quips on Michelle Muscat on the one hand and a feeble attempt at wit by playing with the words of the PL election slogan on the other.

The time for such hapless styles of partisan argument is long over and the one who has realised it, albeit belatedly, is Prime Minister Lawrence Gonzi himself. His non-stop provision of gaffes, somersaults and u-turns so far is entertaining enough, but he has also now gone off on a desperate tangent to appear less hostile and reproachful, particularly in the eyes of the new generation of voters.

Muscat’s natural vocabulary, stemming from the fact that he is much younger, infinitely more down-to-earth, and in sync with the various generations that form the Maltese and Gozitan (yeah, and that man on Comino too, why not?) electorate, is gradually meandering down to his political adversary. Even his frequent use of English phrases and catchwords has been taken on board by the Gonzi election caravan, but while the Labour leader’s sound natural and, sadly, au courant with young Malta’s linguistic trends, Gonzi’s sound hollow and artificial.

To change the face – and balls – of Maltese politics, however, needs more than just words, which is why Joseph Muscat now enjoys the huge following he does amongst the Maltese middle-class. He has done what most of them thought he’d never be able to do – and that is change and unite his own party. The Labour Party today is the basis on which a national movement of people from all walks of life, regardless of their political leanings, has grown and spread in a way that was unimaginable a few years ago.

Rather than the old PL vs PN fixture, this election is deeply immersed in the Malta/Gozo vs PN reality. While Labour has accepted the fact that parties no longer need to be the win-all, lose-all factor of Maltese politics, the PN has preferred to remain stuck in the same old groove, where party loyalty comes before true political maturity. It is why what has always been seen as practically impossible, is now happening, as we watch ex-Nationalist stalwarts and long-time sympathisers publicly – and at last fearlessly – joining the Labour camp to form part of the growing national movement that it is now leading towards a new future.

On the face of it all, that takes balls – if you permit the prolonged pun.