The price of hesitation in the face of government oppression is everything you’ve ever known.
On Sunday, The Shift News published an article claiming that the government is already walking back its proposed changes to Malta’s planning regime.
According to the story’s unnamed government sources, prime minister Robert Abela quietly asked permanent government apologist Robert Musumeci to redraft the legislative changes, seen by practically everyone as a full-blown capitulation to rogue developers.
To date, the government has not contested the claims made in this article. Instead, its frantic backpedaling in the face of widespread criticism suggests that the article’s sources are correct in their assessment.
Before saying anything else, it must be emphasised that the seemingly dormant status of these proposed changes is no reason to suddenly stop being vigilant. If it weren’t for the right pairs of eyes being trained on the right spot at the right time, it is entirely plausible that the government could have slipped these legislative amendments past without anyone even noticing.
Wall-to-wall press coverage over the weekend escalated a wave of righteous fury against this latest drive to bury the country in concrete. A solid Times of Malta explainer and MaltaToday’s interview with veteran environmentalist and lawyer Claire Bonello also deserve a mention.
Yet again, prime minister Robert Abela managed to unite an otherwise disparate majority against a decision made at the highest level of government.
People who would never see eye-to-eye on almost any other subject can largely agree that concentrating executive power in the hands of a corrupt Planning Authority would spell doom for the country’s increasingly bleak landscape.
Let’s be absolutely categorical about this: the only people who want these proposed legislative amendments are the kind who would not think twice about bulldozing your neighbourhood if it means they’ll turn a profit.
And so, the established cycle unfolds.
A corrupt prime minister asks an amoral servant to cook up a legislative regime that would make a Russian czar blush.
The general public correctly picks up on the fact that the walls are closing in yet again.
The better informed among us ring alarm bells as far and wide as they can be heard. Fear and anger spread exponentially, contaminating every conversation and overshadowing every interaction.
And then, after enough public pressure is applied, we get the signature U-turn that the prime minister is now so known for.
I’ll be the first to say that I am genuinely impressed by the speed and intensity of the resistance against the prime minister’s brazen attempt to gift wrap the country for the highest bidder.
It was the kind of resistance I always hope for in such situations: fueled by indignant rage, the kind that will grip your soul and refuse to let go until its root cause is addressed.
Therein lies the eternal problem we seem to face in Malta.
The sheer scarcity of hope means our expectations have hit universal lows. We partially adjusted to corruption by increasing civil engagement, but we also adjusted by lowering the bar so much that it must have gone underground by now.
In practical terms, that lack of hope translates to reactive public outbursts of anger rather than sustained, long-term pressure.
We shouldn’t be angling for concessions in the face of an onslaught of attempts at silencing critics and stifling what’s left of our legal protections.
When we do so, we aren’t addressing the root cause. We are merely alleviating the symptoms that emerge whenever a society is run by narcissistic psychopaths who will sooner strike a bargain for your soul than accept any responsibility for the conditions that led to your soul being put up for sale in the first place.
Though I constantly aim to polish my thoughts with laser sharp precision whenever possible, I’ll admit that I am still somewhat stumped by the nation’s collective inability to hit the streets consistently.
I’ve seen enough to know that this fire of resistance can grow into an unstoppable inferno whenever perfect conditions for it materialise. But what about when those conditions are not ideal? Why isn’t this rage consistently applied to this morally bankrupt government?
Why do we keep failing to land a killing blow?
Why did we repeatedly manage to bring the government to its knees, only to then let these corrupt bastards retreat, regroup, and come back with a vengeance?
Are we afraid of leaping into the unknown? Why are we scared of unleashing that rage and campaigning until this government drops dead and we can finally dispense justice?
Why are we so easily appeased by temporary victories that are then undone whenever the prime minister feels like he can get away with it? The only reason they failed to push these changes through is because Abela is so catastrophically bad at reading public sentiment that he backs himself into a corner.
Is it because we ousted one disgraced prime minister and have been lumped with another? Because if that’s the reason, then we are failing to see that this one can just as quickly be taken down if we focus on it for long enough.
Is it because of the fact that the country’s traditional political system has been torn apart? Because if that’s the case, then all we need to do is participate in rebuilding it. The people who get it are already engaged in that process; what’s your excuse?
Is it because many of us are afraid of talking to the press anonymously, let alone taking a public stand? To those people, I say – there is nothing left to be afraid of.
They’ve already done the very worst they could have possibly done to this country. You are this country. “Malta” isn’t some abstract notion that lives through flags and anthems. It is its people, the ones who love this stubborn, mean rock enough to believe in its potential. We have nothing left to lose.
There is nothing to do but end this nightmare. Anything less than aiming for the jugular will amount to a temporary reprieve from a permanent battlefield.
Democracy must be defended, or we will otherwise perish with it.
The answer is simple Julian.
The country is intrinsically corrupt….
Amoral familism if I’m not mistaken…
That’s a very reductionist, simplistic view of things that does no justice to all the people who are still out there fighting every day.
I have to agree with Julian on this. I don’t think amoral familism alone explains the current situation in Malta. While it may play a part, there are several other contributing factors that, together, have led to the state we’re in:
The state’s ability to punish dissent: There is real, documented evidence of the state using its position and control over institutions to make life difficult for critics and opponents.
A loss of civic values, replaced by greed: Many seem to have abandoned any sense of civic duty or collective responsibility. Instead, there’s an overwhelming drive to acquire wealth at any cost.
Lack of critical thinking: Large segments of the population seem to lack the skills to critically assess what they’re being told, making them more vulnerable to manipulation and misinformation.
Short-term thinking: Decisions, whether political or personal, are often made based on immediate gains, with little regard for long-term consequences.
No long-term national vision: Malta lacks a realistic and sustainable long-term plan — whether economic, cultural, civic, or environmental. There’s no shared roadmap for the country’s future.
The role of social media in spreading confusion: In today’s world, it’s becoming harder to distinguish truth from misinformation. Social media amplifies both, making informed discussion more difficult.
Failure to recognise false equivalences: A common belief is that both major political parties are corrupt, and therefore equally corrupt. This prevents nuanced evaluation and accountability.
A toxic relationship between politics and big business: Political parties rely on big business for funding and support. In turn, many businesses have become dependent on government contracts and favourable legislation, stifling innovation and genuine competition.
A justice system that doesn’t treat everyone equally: The powerful are rarely held accountable. The state comes down hard on the weak but turns a blind eye when it comes to the rich and well-connected.
Taken together, these factors create a deep sense of helplessness — a feeling that nothing can be changed. And this, in turn, leads to widespread apathy.