J’accuse : Papillon

Papillon is the name of a 1969 novel written by Frenchman Henri Charrière. The (allegedly) autobiographical novel tells of Charrière’s extraordinary saga at the hands of the French criminal justice system between 1931 and 1945 after he had been condemned to a period of hard labour on Devil’s Island as a punishment for murder. Charrière’s character in the book is called “Papillon” − the French for butterfly − because of the butterfly tattoo he had on his chest. The papillon is also a symbol of the freedom that this prisoner constantly craved.

Cinema buffs will have surely watched the 1973 movie starring Steve McQueen as Papillon. The book itself was an international sensation and caused a furore in France since Charrière’s story exposed the harsh brutality of the French justice system and the inhumanity of pre-war incarceration policies. Attempts were made to discredit the veracity of Charrière’s adventures, and articles and books were written to kill the more colourful of Charrière’s stories. Papillon, if one were to take his word for it, had suffered the ignominy of inhuman conditions and isolation. His different attempts to escape and obtain the freedom that he believed he deserved involved audacious contraptions and life-threatening situations but his book served at least to unmask the hideous conditions in the French penal system.

This could be heaven, this could be hell

Freedom. It was not the auburn Scot with face daubed in blue that spoke the word but a dark skinned Ivorian speaking to a Times of Malta journalist who was trying to discover the reason for the Safi riots. Freedom. It’s a strong word with a very strong meaning. The Hollywood speech reserved for Mel Gibson in Braveheart is simply about humankind’s love of freedom and its willingness to lay down everything else in order to obtain it. The anonymous Ivorian did not speak from a high horse (metaphorically and physically) when he explained the reasons behind what have been dubbed the “riots” in Safi.

The men and women condemned by our 18-month detention policy are reduced to becoming inhuman wrecks pacing up and down the dirty corridors of Malta’s own Gulag probably wondering what other cruel fate can be thrown at them. It is one thing being a criminal, like Papillon, and still succumbing to the very natural urge to escape and spread your wings. It is another to have escaped the miseries and trials and tribulations of a war-torn country and to find yourself in a Mediterranean concentration camp under the August sun. Freedom. Not 5-star food, not 5-star accomodation, just freedom − and the right to be treated as a human being. Yet, what most people saw was not a genuine cry for freedom. They saw guests misbehaving.

Bring your alibis

Fellow blogger Andrew Azzopardi has taken the cause of the Safi inmates (for inmates they are) to heart. His blog has been constantly updated with photos from inside the camp documenting the hideous conditions. Other recent members of the blogosphere like Norman Vella picked on the ugly response of the dark side of this nation. I blogged about this in the post “What paradise?” in which I wondered whether this nation of ours has so much to be feel indignant about. It had been a truly disgusting week of reactions in the comment boxes.

I picked on a Facebook comment by divorce guru Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando in the What paradise? post. “Illegal immigrants among us have to understand that they are guests in our country and they should behave accordingly,” quoth Mr Divorce. My first reaction was to comment right under his post and wonder whether the immigrants aren’t doing just that − behaving accordingly. You know, when in Rome…

JPO was voicing an ugly popular sentiment that keeps resurfacing. It gets worse when there are calls to “send them back home” or when the comments incite actual violence against the “guests”. The pink corner of the blogosphere also picked up (should I say “filched” because we stumbled on the same post? The law of petty schoolgirl thinking would seem to imply so − hey I saw it first!) on the JPO comment and condemned the crassness of it all.

Pink champagne on ice

I don’t just mention the other blogs to point out the varied nature of the blogosphere’s reaction to the goings on. The blogs, the blogosphere and the mainstream media comment boards are one way of gauging our reactions to the main events in our lives. They also provide another testing ground. They are a microcosmic reflection of the manner in which our society operates: with its little battlegrounds for prima donnas, with the pushing and shoving for cornering tiny markets and perceived centres of power, and with the constant battle in which the loudest, noisiest and most lewdly entertaining tends to win the public’s baying approval. Welcome to the 21st century Colosseum.

It is the world where a refined pen and mastery of English can be used to churn out filth and fabricate character assassinations day in day out. It is a world where − posing through the guise of bluff and plagiarism − budding politicians and faux intellectuals win their fawning corner of the crowd by selling their repackaged gospel to the malleable masses. It is a world that has spawned the quick judgement, the guillotine jury and the fast-track condemnation based on taste. This world has fed on Malta’s particular adaptation of the global ideological vacuum as nurtured by the PLPN mentality. It is not a world of discussion but of antagonism where, in the words of the philosopher Slavoj Zizek “(the people) express an authentic rage which is not able to transform itself into a positive programme of socio-political change”.

We are programmed to receive

The riots in London, the indignados in Spain and the Jasmine Revolution in North Africa. We tried, maybe wrongly, to find a common element (do check out www.re-vu.org for a couple of good articles analysing the riots). Zizek, the philosopher I mentioned earlier, has penned a brilliant article himself called “Shoplifters of the World Unite” in which he notes the ideological political predicament we live in: “A society which celebrates choice but in which the only available alternative to enforced democratic consensus is a blind acting out.” “What is the point of our celebrated freedom of choice,” asks Zizek, “when the only choice is between playing by the rules and (self-) destructive violence?”

In our tiny microcosm we might be looking at the Safi “riots” from the wrong angle. JPO’s concept of “guests” implies that we are somehow better off than the Ivorian who is craving freedom and who can only vent his anger and frustration by lighting a fire in the compound. What that image fails to consider and factor into the context is the fact that the post-ideological vacuum is the predicament of a whole island of cynics. Liberals and conservatives alike seem to be unable to face the fact that there is a value vacuum that is slowly transforming into our cage. Relativism and poverty of values is leading to our becoming prisoners in our own home.

We are all just prisoners here, of our own device

Which is why I asked the question “What paradise?” this week. The rioter in Safi wants freedom from his prison. But is the world beyond the confines of Safi’s walls a free world? Papillon, the prisoner of an outdated penal system ended up wandering from one prison island to another before finally obtaining his freedom in Venezuela. In this day and age it is not just four walls that can constitute a prison but also mental barriers built on a vacuum devoid of reference points and an absence of clear socio-political goals.

The Ivorian and his fellows at Safi might still be in time to realise that beyond their four walls lies a larger prison populated by hypocrites and false moralists. This news might come as slim consolation for the Safi inmates but the least we can do is notice that guests and hosts alike might be in desperate need of a plan to work towards a better life. Otherwise we will end up living the song… where we can check out anytime we like, but we can never leave.

The Duchy beckons

It’s been a hectic two weeks of rushing around (and a bit of idyllic epicurean delight). The heat is really stifling and it’s a wonder that anything gets done. I have a note of sympathy for fellow lawyers who are obliged by the ridiculous rules of convention to trudge to Valletta wearing suits in 35 degrees of heat. How long before we notice that this weather requires its own dress code?

Food-wise, I’ve enjoyed terrific meals from the succulent rib eye served consistently at Sliema’s weather toss’d pitch to the delicious seafood on offer at il-Pulena in Marsalforn (three thumbs up again Godwin). It would be a shame not to mention Qbajjar Restaurant’s great BBQ Wednesday night while a big thank you to the blokes at Badass Burgers for remembering the gluten-challenged among us. I’ve tried Arriva, I’ve caught the ferries and I have only one thing to say: “move bloody back”. What is it with idiots who plonk themselves half way up the bus aisle thus giving the impression of a bus that is full? I leave the island with mixed impressions: it’s definitely a cleaner Malta (the effort on the beaches merits a standing ovation) but there’s an angry, cynical interior that is letting itself be harnessed by the most harmful of forces. It’s that interior that can be jarring and render life unpleasant.

All you need is a thick skin, plenty of sun block and a daily dose of J’accuse. Which is what you will get in the post-vacation weeks to come.

www.akkuza.com has quoted from Slavoj Zizek’s “Shoplifters of the world unite” (google it for the free version). Papillon (the movie) released in 1973 features Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffmann. Blogs mentioned in this article can be accessed freely on the Internet. Don’t believe all that you read. Remember: Just ask. Subs courtesy of the Eagles’ Hotel California.