If you’re a regular reader of this website, there’s a good chance that you were probably in Valletta on 17 July, 2023.
In case you haven’t clocked the reference straight away, let me refresh your memory.
After months of relentless campaigning, Isabelle Bonnici, Jean Paul Sofia’s mother, had brought the government to its knees. The entire country rallied behind her in pursuit of justice for Jean Paul.
Initially, prime minister Robert Abela tied himself up in knots to contain the fallout and reject growing calls for a public inquiry.
I remember making my way to the protest in the passenger seat of a friend’s car. Like every other journalist, I was scouring everyone’s front page to stay informed. Rumours of yet another U-turn had been swirling about since the early morning.
On our way to Valletta, the prime minister’s office announced a dramatic, last minute press conference.
Up until that fateful press conference, the overall tone of Isabelle’s campaign carried the righteous fury of a grieving mother. What else can one do when you know for a fact that negligence and corruption killed your son and nobody wants to do anything about it?
As soon as I pulled up the live feed of that press conference in the car, I remember telling my friend ‘this is it – if he says they’re starting a public inquiry, the campaign’s momentum will fizzle out.’
Sure enough, the prime minister went on air and cut off our legs before we could even arrive in Valletta. A public inquiry will be held. Praise Robert for his eternal wisdom. Bla bla bla.
While the prime minister’s ham-fisted capitulation will stain his track record forever, in the long-term, it ensured his personal survival. More importantly, it ensured the survival of a corrupt planning regime that continues to parcel out our urban and rural environment to the highest bidder.
I also remember being completely despondent as the vigil dragged on. I’ve been around this particular block long enough to know that a promise made by a prime minister who has half the country bearing down on him like rolling thunder is about as solid as a plea deal made under duress.
I’ll freely admit that I couldn’t stand being there for the entire duration of the vigil, in spite of my sincere admiration for Isabelle and her tenacious struggle for justice.
What made me leave, in the end, was the fact that I knew that it would only be a matter of time until the prime minister’s mask slipped yet again. I knew that a momentous opportunity to break this corrupt planning regime once and for all would fall by the wayside the minute the government began ignoring the more stringent recommendations which eventually came out of the public inquiry.
The campaign’s objective was to force the government to start the public inquiry. That objective was achieved.
The mark that the campaign missed entirely was the notion that even a tool as powerful as a public inquiry cannot make up for a whole government that’s been captured by the construction industry. That kind of public support can topple a government, and it was wasted on getting the government to budge a couple of inches instead.
Even in the instances in which some of the public inquiry’s proposed reforms were implemented, the system remains far off from being able to adequately enforce rules in a manner that deters rogue contractors and developers from flouting them continuously.
Creating a licensing regime for contractors will mean nothing if rogue contractors are allowed to put up a facade of compliance without much scrutiny.
Strengthening enforcement authorities hardly matters if the legislation doesn’t give them real power over their domains and the people in charge are just as corrupt as the people they are meant to be policing.
Of course, most people couldn’t see the point of what I was trying to say at the time. How could I possibly be so cynical after such a huge win for civil society?
For what it’s worth, I do believe that Isabelle’s example stands as a beacon for us all to follow, irrespective of what I think of how the campaign was carried out in the final hours before it peaked.
In fact, I couldn’t help but grimace when I read her absolutely spot on comment expressing disappointment about the prime minister’s support for the reinstatement of Kurt Buhagiar, the Lands Authority official who just got his job back after being declared responsible for the myriad construction site failures that led to Jean Paul Sofia’s death.
Times of Malta quoted her as follows:
“I believed all you ever said to me because I thought that somewhere in your heart you were a father, our father, who should protect us not protect who is killing us. And then you do this. I am so sad about this.”
And there it was, right there: the moment in which the mask finally slipped again.
Two years ago, the prime minister stood in front of Isabelle Bonnici outside Parliament (featured photo) when she confronted him after the Labour Party’s parliamentary group unanimously voted against a resolution for a public inquiry.
This was the scene that set the country in motion. An arrogant prime minister speaks in legalese while a mother who wants justice for her son stares him down intently. After this interaction and the ensuing public outrage, the prime minister was forced to come to terms with just how badly he’d underestimated Isabelle’s resolve.
I do not fault Isabelle for taking the prime minister’s word for it. I can only imagine just how grueling the whole campaign must have been for her, so it would have made perfect sense to call it a day after forcing a prime minister into some very impressive backpedaling.
My point is that everyone else who supported this cause should have known better than to think that this one singular victory was enough to stem the tsunami of corruption that engulfed the nation.
There is no middle ground to be reached with a government that can glibly justify the reinstatement of a criminal individual by saying that the taxpayer will be getting more value for money (as opposed to leaving him suspended on half-pay), a few years after that same individual was declared responsible for the death of an innocent 20 year old man.
For as long as these thugs remain in power, Isabelle’s disappointment will continue to be shared by the rest of the wider public, a third of which remain afflicted by a case of political orphan syndrome.
It is up to us to convert disappointment into real action.