Malta has become, in many ways, unrecognisable.

I do not say this because I have turned 62 and am looking back nostalgically at the Malta of my youth. This is not about nostalgia or resisting change. Malta has always changed, and progress is necessary. Much of that progress has brought greater opportunities and a better quality of life.

However, something deeper has changed.

Malta has changed not only physically but also in its values.

I struggle to recognise the Malta where solidarity mattered, where honesty and hard work were respected, where doing business ethically was a matter of reputation, where politicians were expected to be mentors and role models, and where community leaders inspired others through their example. These values were far from being perfect, but they provided a moral compass.

We seem to have lost some of that compass.

Today, too often, success is measured by wealth, connections, influence, visibility and the number of social-media likes - amplified by algorithms - rather than by character, competence and integrity. Political leadership has become more about image than integrity, while those who should inspire their communities sometimes struggle to inspire trust.

Prosperity never required us to sacrifice integrity. We could have attracted investment without compromising institutions, modernised without destroying our environment, and created wealth without allowing political connections to become a substitute for accountability.

A successful Malta is not one where more people can afford a car or a boat. It is one where citizens trust the law, institutions are independent, public power is exercised in the national interest, and those who are vulnerable are supported rather than marginalised.

The Labour years in government cannot be judged by denying the good that was done. There have been achievements from which many Maltese citizens have benefited, and these should be acknowledged. Nevertheless, acknowledging the good cannot become an excuse for ignoring the damage. Alongside economic growth, we have witnessed a disturbing degradation of things Malta once took pride in: the strength and independence of institutions, the credibility of governance, our environment, standards of public life and, above all, our international reputation.

The painful query is not simply whether Malta became richer, but rather what did we lose along the way?

For a country that emerged from the democratic bruises of the 1980s and successfully took its place among our European Union colleagues, it is deeply disturbing that Malta - a country that once prided itself on democracy and the rule of law - has been described internationally as a "mafia state", with the boundaries between politics, business and power appearing dangerously blurred.

That should shame us all.

The recent revelations emerging from Yorgen Fenech's trial make it impossible to look away. Evidence presented in court raises questions that no responsible government - or citizen - should simply dismiss. How did private interests become so intertwined with public decision-making? How did institutions meant to protect citizens become so vulnerable to influence?

Labour has been in government for most of the period in which this deterioration occurred. It therefore cannot escape responsibility for the political culture that developed under its watch.

Yet, while in my opinion the Opposition should be louder, more assertive and more relentless at a time when revelations from court are shaking the political establishment, the role and responsibility of every citizen to stand up for his or her nation is imperative.

However, where are we - the citizens?

Where is the public anger? Where is civil society? Where are the voices that once refused to accept the unacceptable? Perhaps the most worrying development is that too many of us have become accustomed to it all. Another revelation, another scandal, another allegation of political influence, another institutional failure - and then we move on.

Sadly, this is how corruption becomes normalised.

Perhaps it is time for citizens to become angry again, notwithstanding that we were taught that anger is not a virtue, that being angry is negative or uncivilised. I disagree. Anger, when rooted in principle, can be a virtue. It means caring enough to state that the situation is not acceptable. It means refusing to shrug our shoulders and becoming assertive enough to demand better.

We do not need violence or hatred. We need civic anger: the courage to speak, question, protest and refuse to normalise what is wrong. Look at the people of Albania. Their assertiveness and willingness to make their voices heard should make us reflect on ourselves. In this respect, they put us to shame.

Perhaps Malta has become too comfortable, too resigned and too easily distracted.

We do not need another French Revolution. We do not need violence, hatred or upheaval. However, we do need citizens who are prepared to stand up - peacefully, democratically and assertively - and reclaim the values that once defined us: solidarity, honesty, hard work, ethical business, political integrity and community leadership that inspired.

We want a Malta that embraces progress without losing its soul.

We have remained silent for too long. It is time to stand up. It is time to speak out. It is time to remind those who govern us - and ourselves - that Malta does not belong to politicians, parties, businesspersons or networks of influence.

Malta belongs to all of us.

We demand our Malta back.

Albert Buttigieg, former Nationalist MP and a former mayor of St. Julian's.

[email protected]