I am sure I am not the only one thinking this business of political correctness in everything we say, we do, we write, we watch, we see, has gone a trifle too far. We have had to rephrase chunks of our vocabulary even in everyday talk as part of what was initially a liberating process but has now grown into the frustrating habit of self-checking one’s psyche on matters and issues one had always taken for granted previously in life.
This may sound as rather tinkling to liberal minds to which I have always after all belonged, but I am a firm believer in personal views, however controversial, as long as they are presented in a decent, informed way. I abhor racists, but am not aghast at debating issues with them and trying to score a few points against them. I am also an unabashed feminist, but again, I am wont to discuss issues that have a strong influence on women in general, such as divorce, abortion and equality. And so it goes with regard to other socio-political arenas where political correctness has become a shimmering point of reference.
The BLM tsunami has, I say rightly, overwhelmed the world, soon provoking an immediate backlash when historic statues started crumbling in cities everywhere. My knee-jerk reaction was “about time”, but then the revision of history, however ugly and painful, is always a dangerous game to play. True, for why should have one enjoyed watching statues of Lenin and Marx falling across the ex-Soviet Union but not so much when lately it has been the turn of statues and memorials of dictators, racist colonialists and unelected, imperialist strongmen of the West?
The same behavioural dilemma has hit the cultural and sporting scene world-wide. In the past few days alone we’ve had two perfect examples of how political correctness is gnawing into the fabric of football, for example. At the start of a recent English Championship game at Milwall, home fans started booing when the players of both sides knelt to show solidarity against racial injustice. Was it really racism or have football fans, for months frustratingly bereft of their favourite sport, had enough of the noble gesture that is now being regarded as superfluous, in the sense that yes, the message has been delivered, thank you, and we agree totally with it, but stop it?
Players have of course been fully entitled to do it and I am honestly all for BLM and what it stands for, but is not the gesture starting to wear off a little bit?
Another sad footballing episode occurred in Paris on Tuesday during a European Champions League encounter between Paris Saint Germain and Istanbul Basaksehir when the Turkish players walked off the pitch in protest over an alleged racist slur made by a match official after their Cameroonian assistant coach Pierre Webo was shown a red card in the 16th minute. Irrespective of the truth in this highly sensitive case, this is precisely why I believe ideological, political, racial and religious sentiments should not be shown as part of any sports activities.
Mixing sport with politics and religion is always risky, but certainly no justification for booing fans. I always smile quietly when I watch opposing footballers making the sign of the cross or the Islamic gesture of praying as they hit the manicured, green turf on the field of play. Which side would the powers that be in heaven take for the privilege of serving their spiritual endowment?
To be or not to be… mandatory
People all over the globe are debating whether the Covid-19 vaccine jab should be mandatory or not. Governments instinctively go for choice, but vociferously recommend it. There is rising, not altogether unwarranted concern, however, over whether people who refuse to get vaccinated could be deprived of certain freedoms or even whether there could be consequences for those who forgo the procedure.
Health authorities everywhere are reacting to remarks and questions from journalists about whether schools, businesses and other institutions could ask people for proof of vaccination. While it would be unlawful to force every single person to take the vaccine, there is always the tendency on the part of governments and authorities that they may resort to coercive tactics to obtain what would be crudely described as voluntary compliance or, at worst, turning mass vaccination programmes into a health passport.
In New York State, where things always seem to assume a bigger dimension, there is proposed legislation to make Covid-19 vaccinations mandatory, but it has understandably already come under fire from critics. People have quickly recalled the state’s 2019 abortion bill to ask: where have all the rights “to control our own bodies” gone?
Here in Malta, where, in contrast, we always instinctively assume a liliputian dimension, the issue has not been overblown, thank goodness. The annual flu jab has never been more popular, even if it rightly never was mandatory, and the same should probably prevail in the Covid-19 vaccine scenario, but there will always be questions, just as hopefully there will always be answers.
Where were you when it happened?
When our heroes and other protagonists in life die a sudden death, people are always asking each other as to their whereabouts when it happened. That mental impact is never forgotten. When John F. Kennedy was assassinated in the mid-60s, when Elvis died a lonely death in August of 1977 and Michael Jackson, and Kurt Cobain, and, exactly forty years ago, ex-Beatle John Lennon, an idol to my generation.
Yes, and where was I when the news of his assassination came out? As mundane and unimpressive as it sounds, on that 8th December 1980 public holiday in Malta I was actually at home, shaving in front of the mirror prior to driving to the office, the old PBS newsroom. When the late Lino Cachia, reliable as ever on the foreign desk, phoned to give me the news we just had to make a rush for it and produce a TV news documentary on the Liverpool musical genius and peace activist.
I bring it up strictly in memory of Lino, one of Maltese broadcasting’s forgotten true professionals.