Malta’s lodestar

Every entity mankind has ever created had a reason to exist.

Nation states are no different. Governments, countries, national anthems, and flags all came about with a purpose. They were meant to serve as a collective expression of popular will.

A nation state is a consolidated power base that can shape whichever territory is recognised as its own. We created this concept after figuring out that a common set of rules makes navigating each other’s complexities easier.

A failing nation state can be identified by determining whether there is a sense of purpose and belonging among its communities.

Are people in a position to achieve greatness and feel fulfilled with their lives? Or are they merely surviving in a chaotic environment that leaves them unhappy?

Do people feel inclined towards socialising and experiencing new cultures? Or are they closed off and ready for a knife fight at any time?

I think you can imagine where I’m going with this. The probability that most of you know already where I’m going with this is damning in and of itself.

A lodestar is a star that is normally used to chart a ship’s course. Anyone who’s ever been to a Catholic school will probably think of the legend of the Three Magi, who followed Christ’s “rising star” all the way to Judea after his birth. The concept is the same.

In our case, it is a useful concept to set up our titular question – what is Malta’s lodestar?

The country’s brief, violent history shows that there always was a burning lodestar on the horizon. The last century alone provided several: at first, it was becoming an independent nation.

Then, it was about redeveloping the country, which was eventually followed by Malta’s aspirations to become a member of the EU.

The last couple of decades have only brought dark skies with them. My generation has seen nothing but unfettered greed, unbelievable economic growth that largely benefits those who are already wealthy, and a downward spiral for everything else one needs to be happy.

We’ve lost the concept of a guiding principle entirely. There is no burning lodestar on the horizon, signifying a higher purpose which to follow.

I’d like to speak about my own perspective on this overarching sense of purposelessness because I cannot really speak for anyone else’s personal experience.

As a freelance journalist in Malta, I face pressure from all sides.

I get blackballed by editors who would benefit from this project no longer existing by refusing to publicly acknowledge its existence.

At this point, it seems quite clear that I have the respect of every journalist I’ve met only to then meet a blank wall whenever I try to collaborate with their editors.

I am loathed by the government for what I do and have been swiftly relegated into the category of those ‘online fake news blogs’ to further isolate me from public support and prominence.

The only steadfast support I have comes from my followers, my loved ones, and civil society. Those closest to me got to witness firsthand the corrosive impact of facing this constant level of pressure in my life, and I thank them endlessly for standing by my side in my times of need.

So, you can imagine my anger when I saw prime minister Robert Abela posing for a photo op with a propagandist from his party’s media outlet while having the audacity to state that “no threat or attack should stop the important, everyday work that is carried out by journalists.”

In case you missed it, propagandists working for ONE News – I refuse to call them journalists – were openly threatened with serious physical violence while covering arraignments in relation to the AFM heist.

Whatever ignorant, blind hatred motivated those threats can never excuse such threats against anyone. This is not an endorsement of family members of known criminals being given free rein to threaten others trying to do their job.

This is a statement about how lost we’ve become as a nation. The only sense of purpose one can really attach to this country is wanting to fix it, which is why I do journalism, in spite of the government’s war on the free press.

The mere fact that the prime minister can selectively show solidarity with propagandists spinning his party’s lies, spend the rest of his time attacking every real journalist left on the island, and get away with it while everyone just shrugs it off is the real problem.

The reason people like those individuals who threatened ONE’s stooges outside court feel emboldened enough to do so is because the government is busy drowning the country’s rule of law in a shallow bathtub.

The fact that their relatives who are facing charges in court felt like they could actually get away with such a brazen theft tells you everything you need to know – there is no rule of law left. As we’ve said before – if the government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for the law.

Let’s face it; it’s not like any of the accused were in hiding. They were out in the open, living their lives, flaunting their dubious wealth as if nothing untoward was going on.

The Labour Party’s lodestar has been precisely that: to turn the country into a lawless state with no boundaries and with no morality. Its guiding purpose has been to gut purpose itself.

That is how a bald-faced liar like our prime minister can get away with “showing solidarity” to his propagandists while simultaneously failing to acknowledge his government’s role in decimating the free press.

That is how he can absolutely refuse to implement the recommendations of Daphne Caruana Galizia’s public inquiry while claiming that he believes the work that journalists do everyday is important.

Never forget that, contrary to Abela’s lofty claim that “no threats or attacks” should ever stop journalists from carrying out their work, his party is the one that facilitated the murder of a journalist and the demonisation of just about anybody else who ever dared criticise.

The authoritarianism that this government has wrought upon us will be felt for generations to come.

Every legacy, no matter how oppressively it was imposed or how steadily it is ingrained in our collective psyche, can be torn down and set alight.

There may be no bright stars in these dark skies, but we can still light up the evening with a bonfire.