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Mother's Way

Many moons have waxed and waned since our days in the schoolyard under the watchful supervision of adults. In those days of Lemonora and Desserta canteen treats, life was relatively simple and at the smallest sign of trouble the “adult” would step in and solve the problem with an imperial edict carrying all the weight and respect of “he who knows best for everyone”. Playground rules came in the same package as the various snitches (“Miss, he’s standing on the monkey bars”), bullies (“Your lunch or a punch”) and disciplinarians (“Stand by the yellow door you naughty boy”). Far from the comforting nest of motherly love, scholastic authority gave a semblance of order to our miniscule world. Mother’s Way was imposed vicariously by proxy.

Then (supposedly) we grew up. Writing a guest post about the “Pogguti” poster on J’accuse, Mark Vella used an interesting phrase “jekk tghallimna nkunu nies, mhux bilfors li ahna” (if we learnt what it means to be adult (well behaved) it does not mean that we are). It struck directly at what I had been thinking over this last week: our “nanny state” mentality is finally out in full force. Since independence we have seen the process of “educating Malta” − we toyed with socialism and then switched to a supposed liberal-democrat framework infused with identifiable values. One thing seems to be stuck in time though − our collective understanding of our society’s rules, rights and how to use them. Many of us want our State to be the Playground all over again − and yearn for the adult voice of authority and protection based on the arbitrary rule of “he knows best for us”.

Prefects of Discipline

The divorce debate has entered the phase of the “dirty tricks” and one of the most common complaints on both sides refers to “fairness”. You could picture them queueing up to a fictitious teacher and bawling their complaints… A dribbling JPO cries foul on the fact that the PN media won’t print his adverts. A No to Divorce campaigner yells his frustration at being called a bully for having whipped out his Nan’s holy picture as proof of his authority. Meanwhile, as No to Divorce is incessantly associated with intolerance we shift to anything goes, so a nutty Evangelical preacher suddenly becomes a threat to society: “Shut him up Miss, I don’t like what he is saying”.

The language of exchanges is in the same vein as school diatribes − and we should seriously ask ourselves whether this is because for long we have been content with this kind of schoolyard rhetoric. Much of it results from our lack of understanding of the basic functions of the institutions and rules. It’s glaringly obvious that the mixture between the sacred and the profane, the lay and the religious is beyond repair at this point. One of the uglier portraits of Jesus of Nazareth has become an iconic symbol of messages supposedly aimed at the faithful… and the reaction has been massive.

Stepping in One’s Shoes

We could not have expected any other form of debate around the divorce issue. Yes, we are 43 years late (I’m using ’68 as my benchmark). What is worrying is that we have slipped comfortably into Don Camillo and Peppone rhetoric as though emancipated liberal society happened to other people. Laymen want to interfere with the Church’s way of things (and you can’t blame them entirely when the Church has slept comfortably with the State for so long). Churchmen want to save the soul of even the most reluctant atheist. And what is the solution? A blanket prohibition? One that prevents the option of divorce for EVERYONE.

I have a problem with every single argument being made (what’s new). The Church with its massive prophylactic concept − shield everyone from the possibility of divorce otherwise its weak-willed sons and daughters would sin at the first opportunity − is the first to be J’accused. The message is clear: “it’s wrong, because I said so (and I am quite sure that so did Jesus/Paul etc).” Then there is the illogical leap − if it’s wrong and dangerous for me then it is wrong for everyone else. Punto e basta. What bollocks.

What about our progressive forces of the earth? Joseph Muscat had a note on Facebook this week and this is how it ends “l-Partit Laburista kien, ghadu u se jibqa’ jhalli lil kulhadd jiehu decizjoni skont il-kuxjenza. Sostna li l-pozizzjoni tal-Partit Laburista hija ta’ tolleranza u ta’ kuxjenza.” The Labour Party position is one of “tolerance and conscience”. Do you want to know what this means? It means that if Muscat’s Labour were around in the times of abolition of slavery, in the times of the removal of racial intolerance, or in the times of the battle for equal pay, then it would be there with all the fence-sitting non-affiliated persons who watched history being made from the sidelines. Sure, our leader is against slavery but he’ll let his party members vote as their conscience wills. Sure we want women to get the same pay as men … but hey, we all have our conscience to see to. Sic transit gloria…

Mother’s Law

Much has already been written about the two Mrs’ (Gonzi and Muscat) and their incredible pre-Mother’s Day stint. Their efforts to conform to the narrative that best suits their husbands’ role reinforced the pathetic picture of our failure to understand what growing up is about. On Mother’s Day, of all days, you’d hope that many understand that when the social fabric of society is woven with the thread of broken families that are obliged to stay so till death do them part then it’s a poor fabric indeed.

There may be some good news in all this. The extremities to which we are being exposed in this divorce debate might finally have led to pushing a very reluctant movement out of the closet. Malta’s budding “liberal community” has always fallen victim at the last hurdle − being quickly absorbed by one of the two parties at the moment of truth. This time round the invasion of privacy and the nanny state mentality might actually prove to be the gel that gets the liberals moving. That’s why I “liked” the setting up of the “Moviment Tindahalx” on Facebook. I sincerely hope that its message will be a more lasting one than the frivolous pages of the ether and that something positive might result from the otherwise relatively inconsequential exercise on 28 May

The Flowers of May

I’d like to gather all the blooming flowers of the world and offer them to every caring and doting mother on the island. That goes for you too mum… and a happy belated birthday too!

www.akkuza.com “ the 21 days of blogging the divorce debate kicked off on Saturday 7 May (yesterday). Check out the full blogroll at themaltachronicle.wordpress.com

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Non Gode di Immunità Ecclesiastica

Fully qualified law graduate and state approved lawyer Dr Deborah Schembri has been told that she may no longer practice as a lawyer in the Church tribunal “because she is spreading incorrect information on the indissolubility of Catholic marriage”. There has always existed a possibility that a lawyer is suddenly “debarred” from duty before the ecclesiastical curia. Nobody – no liberal, progressive or otherwise (except maybe the eccentric Dr Bezzina) – had ever squeaked an ounce of protest regarding this state of affairs, perhaps because of our instinctive reaction of “why bother?”

The legal system of the catholic church is the oldest legal system still in use today. Named the Rota after the round rooms in which the judges originally heard cases, the church courts have jurisdiction over judicial trials related to the Catholic church. In our country, ever since the 1995 Marriage Act, the church’s jurisdiction extends to civil affairs insofar as church decisions on annulment have a civil validity. Boiled down to the bare minimum that means that the decisions of the church regarding who may practice as a lawyer before its tribunals are no longer a question, as Fr Gouder would like to have it, of “either believing or not”. Persons appearing before the church courts do NOT have a right to the lawyer of choice – and that is the crux of the matter.

With all due respect to Dr Deborah Schembri this is not matter of her livelihood (she chose to work within the system and therefore should comply fully with its requirements) – it is a matter of citizens of the state being deprived of a lawyer of their choice in proceedings they may submit to involuntarily. Kudos to Dr Balzan of the Chamber of Advocates for having pointed out that the right to choose ones own lawyer should not be limited in any way – sadly it was a typical knee-jerk reaction that had long been past its due date. Unfortunately, the divorce matter at hand has watered down the crucial highlighting of this abominable anomaly that results from the Church-State agreement.

Weapon of Choice
For the word on the street is not about this issue of a “right to a lawyer” but focuses instead on the Church’s “bullying”. The ignorant (for they ignore) crowds are even pressing with a petition for the “reinstatement of Deborah Schembri” – proving thusly that they have not seen the real problem underlying this issue. This is not, may I point out, a choice between Barabbas and Christ for it is not the representative of Ceasar who is deciding here. We have the indirect work of the successor of Peter interpreting an Apostolic Letter (Justi Judicis). The rabble has been wrongly roused.

At the heart of it all is our incredible inability to distinguish between the sacred and the profane. We cannot fathom why the church has every right as a social participant to send messages to its flock about its position on divorce while at the same time we claim to be fighting for a more liberal society where EVERY social participant has a right to express their point of view. Sure, the Church is inadvertently uncovering the weakness of this particular flock on the island of Paul – the flock that needs cushioning from the free choice that God gave them – and in doing so is proving to be a shaky witness to the sturdiness and incorruptibility of christian morals.

We may have Ministers that practically have a directly line with the Madonna (as if Angelik was not enough) but our particular brand of Catholics want a “choice-free” Malta for otherwise the flock would be so weak as to succumb to sin at the first opportunity: just remember DJ Cordina whose objection to divorce was that it would make him think about the option from the moment it was possible. Basically our specific version of the church, in conspiracy with the state is one massive prophylactic covering the island from any possibility of deviant activity. Onward Christian soldiers? More like pampered kids without a sense of volition… the naked ape indeed.

Praise You
This week’s Lou Bondi show was a pleasant surprise what with the presence of artists and writers discussing Malta and the Maltese. I was irritated by Lou’s confusing “Value” with “Identity” in his search for typical Maltese “values”. Gozitan author Pierre Mejlak was spot on when stating that we probably share most of our values with people close to our islands. I did find one moment to be particularly telling though. When Brikkuni vocalist Mario Vella intervened in a discussion about “il-Bar ta’ Taht il-Knisja” (the Bar below/Beside the Church) – a Brikkuni classic – he was defensive about the role of the “church” in the lyrics.

While Lou and the rest of the panel rightly examined the lyrics from the perspective of the interaction in society under the watchful gaze of the church, Vella – who I like to think of as a liberal and progressive musician (an appreciation from the lyrics of his music, if not nothing else) was dismissive of the importance being given to the Church in this particular appreciation. According to Vella the church was simply an indication of the geographic location of the bar and he seemed to imply that too much was read into the role of the church in that song. Vella’s stance was quasi-apologetic – and to me disappointingly inexplicable.

I may be wrong. Vella might very well have used the church as a geographical (and not moral) compass in the song but I get the feeling that once again the “censor in your head” syndrome was clearly manifesting its ugly head. Same goes for Deborah Schembri. Her apologetic reaction after the news of her debarring broke gave the impression that she is more concerned with being “reinstated” than with challenging the legal anomaly affecting the rights of representation of citizens in a tribunal with state and civil powers. Give us this day our daily bread.

The Rockafeller Skank – Intermezzo
I’ve begun to apologise whenever a long article is in the making. This is one of them for it has been a bountiful week, so may I suggest a quick cuppa before you return for the rest of the show. Unlike Lou I do not have an interminable rosary of adverts between different parts of the programme so you’ll have to make do with your imagination or look up the sublime Brikkuni pieces on YouTube for a musically pleasant interlude.

That Green Jesus
If figuring out the fine line between sacred and the profane was not enough, the news that broke on Saturday’s papers was guaranteed a full blown “national discussion” as we know best. The people had been informed of the decision to shift the icon that is the Triton Fountain to a different place on the Floriana plateau and away from the vacuum of vacuums that the Place Formerly Known As City Gate is fast becoming. It would seem that the law of open spaces (and the administrative connivance of those in power) hath decreed that the maravilious monument to giants would be removed from its position of prominence.

Maltese Identity? Would you imagine Piazza Navona without its obelisks? How about shifting the Trevi Fountain to a more “convenient” spot? Imagine a reshuffle of Washington’s monuments in order to accommodate some new-fangled plan. You cannot, can you. Of course not. I cannot put my finger on it but I have a feeling that this too has to do with our inability to be more assertive about our identity. When even our national treasures (for it is a treasure) can fall victim to redecoration by the temporary temporal powers, it means that the planner believes himself to be greater than the treasure itself. It says much about the importance that we attribute to our heritage.

Right Here, Right Now
It is perhaps fitting that my long stay in Malta with a task list full of wedding preparations had to end the day Prince William and Kate get to tie the knot. If you were one of the millions watching the ceremony you will have notice the immense sense of occasion that only the Brits can pull off. They are definitely assisted with the presence of monuments and heritage that go back a thousand years (since the marriage of William the Conqueror in Westminster).

For me it is time to return to the Duchy. Sadly, I leave a day too early and will miss the Norman Cook concert that is bound to have been magnificent by the time you read this article. Fatboy Slim… now that describes my targets until next November – from Fatboy to Slim … hopefully I’ll make it in time for the wedding.

www.akkuza.com – the sacred, the profane and the wedding fantastic all in one blog

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J'accuse : Pontius Pilate

In this time of pageants, processions and crucifixions one character of the paschal narrative tends to get less attention than all the rest and yet I believe that this country owes him much more attention. This man happened to be prefect of Judea at the time when one of humankind’s most important stories was unfolding and much has been written about him. I believe that one matter about the equestrian Pontius of the Pilati family has been overlooked by scholars: he HAD to have been a Maltese citizen who had been transferred for some work in the Middle East.

It is quite a pity that only the Ethiopian Orthodox Church has recognised Pontius Pilate (and his wife) as a saint for I believe that statues of the prefect would be very apt in many places around the islands − chief among which would be our House of Representatives. A Saint Pontius picture would be a mandatory part of the civil servants’ uniform in this country that has huge difficulties separating the religious from the civic and social. It’s all about the washing of hands after all…

The Divine Comedy

Depending on which gospel you follow, Pontius Pilate has different levels of responsibility for the condemnation and crucifixion of Christ. Christian lore through the ages − from the early Councils to Mel Gibson has shifted between the responsibility of the Roman masters and that of the Jewish participants in the passion. No matter who you follow, the personality of Pontius sticks out as one who wants to put a huge distance between himself and the destiny of the man who appears before him under the spurious accusation of having claimed to be King of the Jews.

Pontius is the kind of man who performs logistical somersaults and carries a bag with a multiplicity of excuses so long as he can wash his hands of the decision to inculpate the man from Nazareth. He will forever be tied with the symbolic idea of washing his hands in order that he may hopefully sleep with a clean conscience. Blame, if any, for a mistake, is to be laid at the feet of someone other than this prefect. John reports the torment faced by Pontius: the man bold enough to ask of Ieshua of Nazareth: “What is the truth?” Having interrogated Jesus at length, Pontius famously proclaims “I find no fault in him”(John 18:38). And yet…

Master and the Margarita

And yet… Finding no fault is not enough for the man who holds the highest seat of temporal power in Judea at the time. He is after all a bureaucrat who has to feel the pulse of the people he rules. He senses that the political powers that be are not very much in Ieshua’s favour and that he needs a way out. It is only then, and after having offered a feeble alternative (release the criminal?), that he chooses to wash his hands. As he washes his hands of the fate of one individual − “I am innocent of this man’s blood − you will see” − it’s clear that Pontius has his own conscience at the top of his agenda.

And that, you see is the crux. Saint Pontius is every civil servant who allows the political masters to oblige him to twist the application of the law to fit their needs and statistics. It is those civil servants who turn their administrative jobs into a little fiefdom of bureaucratic pen-pushing, toying with the rights of individuals in order to get the thrill of “power”.

There are Pontius Pilates all over the place − those who either apply the “work to rule” on a day-to-day basis. Then there are the 69 special Pontius Pilates who sit in Parliament and who will wash their hands of the responsibility to decide for or against divorce legislation in a responsible manner. They will seek refuge behind their “conscience” − like Pilate, it is their conscience that trumps the right of the individual.

Claudia Procula

In today’s world, the search for the truth that so tormented Pilate has become more convoluted. Those whose responsibility it is to serve the needs of social justice are becoming more and more used to economising with the truth. Whenever necessary, they have become used to the ritual of washing their hands. In their personal balance of truths, the main reconciling element is the idea that their conscience remains clean whenever they wash their hands.

“M’ghandix x’naqsam” (I’ve got nothing to do with it). “Dak mhux xoghli” (That’s not my job). “Hekk qalulna naghmlu” (That’s what they told us to do). A legal immigrant in possession of a long term residence permit who is trying to get his family to join him in Malta might find the stone wall of civil service Pontius Pilates too hard to overcome. A person in need of proper treatment in radiology might find that there have been too many Pontius Pilate politicians since the last equipment was purchased. And so it goes…

Il Uomo Vivo

It might be very distasteful of cynical J’accuse to raise this matter of Pilates on the day when most of Malta celebrates the return of the king. But not as distasteful as the GRTU’s sudden newfound holiness when faced with the possibility of a supermarket chain opening its doors on Good Friday. This had nothing to do with social or religious conscience − it is the way of things in this country. A businessman threatened with competition will suddenly become holier than Annas and Caiaphas put together and will seek out the local version of a Pontius Pilate who will easily appease the baying hounds so long as he thinks that his conscience is clear.

The problem in this country is not that it seems to be full of hypocritical bible bashers but that the very bible bashers rarely take some time to sit down and learn the lessons that may be found within their weapon of choice. Happy Easter from the island where time stood still.

www.akkuza.com listening to Il Uomo Vivo this Easter Sunday.

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J'accuse : Pulses

The metaphor is normally “il-polz tal-poplu” − the people’s pulse. It’s the measure that most politicians used to go by for a long time. Ever since a few avant-garde British colonials decided to experiment with the classic idea of a republic and created a charter for “We the people”, the question of what people want was upped a few echelons on the political scale. It would only be a few years before the apocryphal uttering of “Let them eat cake” would signal the final straw for those who dared think that the man in the street’s opinion counted for utter pish.

We’ve gone full circle since then, and the equally metaphorical ear on the ground has become the staple food for many a budding politician. Too much so in fact, since the efforts to appease the masses and to pander to popular demand risks making a prostitute of our Madame Republic. The people’s pulse has become the bread and butter of every politician in the post-9/11 world. Values and party principles count for naught and the old -isms have become fantasies and fiction.

Thusly, a modern and progressive politician will praise a fascist Italian decision to not comply with international rules in the name of the national interest. “Mhux fl-interess nazzjonali” − now that’s a big one. If the “people’s pulse” leads to prostitution of political values then the modern concept of “national interest” and “common good” is an open invitation to a free-for-all in a whorehouse. J’accuse has bemoaned the dilution of party political values for years now − only to be derided as an “armchair critic” or self-important pontificator. It is only now that the mud is falling away from their fawning eyes that the former critics have begun to notice that our political “elite” is stuffed with the crème de la crème of incompetent lackeys.

Lima

Deprived as I am of first hand contact, I am dependent on the feedback provided by social networks. I am fully aware that they are not the full picture of the goings on in Malta but they do provide a particular snapshot and perspective. Take today for example. I gleaned from a quick perusal of online updates that the general mood on the island was a grumpy one that befits the religious occasion that was being celebrated. “A typical Our Lady of Sorrows day” wrote one punter − and it seems that the clouds were out and about in order to provide the right ambience for the solemn occasion.

It must be because Luxembourg is no longer as Catholic a nation as it once proudly was, but the deities that are failed to provide the same setting of decorum in this corner of the world. This week’s Le Jeudi (a weekly Luxo newspaper) carried a special report about the plight of immigrants. The series of articles was entitled “The frontiers of solidarity” and highlighted the issues surrounding the “politique d’urgence”. Luxembourg’s asylum seekers come mostly from the Balkans but the difference in nationality of origin does not mean that they face different problems than those we face in the Mediterranean.

The biggest worry is that the “massive influx” of asylum seekers from the Balkans would highlight the lack of receiving structures and that this would lead to the Immigration Ministry taking “hurried decisions on the fate of asylum seekers”. Sound familiar? Well, that’s not all. Luxembourg is also not very happy with the EU level of collaboration. NGOs in Luxembourg are angry that notwithstanding previous lessons that should have been learnt, nothing much has changed recently.

Lentil

On the one hand they will discuss the “Marshall Plan” for the Maghreb. On the other they will mention that in the case of the Sudanese, Erithreans and Somalis going to Malta it is not a simple issue of sending them back. The pulse in Luxembourg is clearly on cue. They are much more on the game than some of the politicians closer to the scene. Pulse-wise, there is something wrong when a progressive politician suggests taking advantage of the Arab Spring to boost national tourism. It gets worse when the same politician lauds Italy’s heavy-handed nationalism on the matter of immigration. All we needed was a Christian Democrat minister announcing new oil drilling projects while any potential Libyan protestors are distracted.

The pulse of the people is twisted. It is twisted because of an elaborate machinery that translates to GIGO (garbage in garbage out) in modern talk − or “you reap what you sow” in Luddite parlance. We are unable to see the hopelessness of a situation like a uniformed policeman telling dark skinned men to “Go back to Africa” but we will harp and harp on the “freedom of expression and need for censorship”. We have collectively fallen for the dupe that is “public consultation” in the divorce debate. We are struggling to cope with the idea of a modern open society when our instinct and upbringing keeps raising the ghosts of a nanny-state past.

47 varieties

And then there are our representatives. Our politicians of the future are deceiving themselves (and others) by unearthing the unwilling complicity of long dead heroes of another era. Only today I had a tiff with a Labour exponent who tried to link Manwel Dimech to today’s progressives. Neither Manwel Dimech nor Nerik Mizzi nor Don Luigi Sturzo would be falling over themselves to be a part of this political mess that we call parties nowadays. It is no secret to anyone, but the most baffling part of it is that most of us are content to continue to propagate the lie.

At the rate we are going, the political vultures will be pecking at a carcass that has offered a pulse too many for its hungry mouths.

Appendix

I almost forgot. This article is due an appendix of its own. The chief at the Maltese Translation Unit at the Court of Justice asked me to plug the next round of concours for lawyer-linguists. What does that mean? It means that suitably qualified individuals (yep, you do need a law degree among other things) should be on the lookout on the EPSO website as an open exam for the new intake will shortly be announced.

www.akkuza.com On the island for the Easter break.

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J'accuse : Living Expenses

It’s not just George Soros who thinks that the ECB might have chosen an inappropriate time for hiking its interest rates. For a very egoistic reason, I was pretty miffed too. A hike in interest rates and a parallel sucker punch delivered to the cost of living in Luxembourg struck right at the moment when I had just moved house and ‘inaugurated’ a new mortgage. That’s some bad Karma all right. The ugly monster of inflation threatens to wreak further havoc on our lives in the short term but hey… it’s the economy, stupid.

While my ‘problems’ might be limited to a shift in figures behind a decimal point, there are others whose problems are related to the “Cost of Staying Alive” (COSA). “The what?” I hear you ask. The COSA is a raw and dangerous version of the cost of living where the line between scraping a living and sinking to the bottom of an ocean is measured in the units of faith, hope and desperation. While we rely on the number crunchers in Frankfurt to make things right, those who measure their daily travails on the COSA index will depend on a multitude of decision makers and opinion shapers that range from the highest politician to the lowest common voter.

Blame

One of the side effects of the Jasmine Revolution in North Africa has been a worrying reopening of the borders that had been so effectively ‘sealed’ in the past by the partners in crime of our political establishment. With the likes of Gaddafi concentrating on more pressing issues than the policing of their countries’ borders (the Cost of Blackmailing Index), it was inevitable that the Mediterranean would refill with the Boats of Hope that ferry the COSA people over to the lands of the free. In the end, the Mare Nostrum is less and less a sea of convergence and more and more a Stygian theatre where many souls are drawing their final check before leaving this world.

In Greek mythology, Styx was the underground river that had to be crossed to reach the underworld in the afterlife. ‘Styx’ meant hate and detestation and the Mediterranean theatre has increasingly featured scenes of backstabbing detestation and an unbrotherly inability to cooperate successfully in the face of troubles. This week we watched the drama unfold of a Malta – Italy blame game during which time the souls of many men, women and children were lost. A little further up north, Sarkozy’s France (the one that acted swiftly to save lives in Benghazi) was protesting vividly with Italy for its practice of issuing Schengen permits to the Tunisians who had fled their country’s ills.

By the time Sarkozy and Berlusconi had patched up their differences, it was on condition that EU aid to Tunisia would be conditional on the patrolling of its borders. Same old, same old. Then on Thursday we also had a historic first when the island of Lampedusa pulled off the best Malta Bus Driver impression and yelled “Full Up” on sighting a new boatload of immigrants. The brave men on patrol boat P61 had to chug back to Malta having been shown that even the centuries-old laws of the sea are now being flaunted in the name of egoistic bigotry.


There’s no place like home

The blame game is played out at the expense of values. There remains no real reference point. The basic unit of the Cost of Staying Alive Index is life itself but this value too can be diluted if one’s life starts outweighing another. Gozo Bishop Mario Grech has rightly sounded the warning signal on that count − going so far as having to warn that: “Had some birds been killed, much would, rightly, have been said, while, in this case so many people had died, and many people stayed silent”. It was a biblical moment − testified in the New Testament. I looked it up… Matthew 6:26: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

Well even Jesus said so. Lately, both the big J and our heavenly Father are being unnecessarily inconvenienced on other matters. All the matters display our society’s continuous struggle to update its identity and feel comfortable with itself. Our politicians are engaged in another blame game on the divorce front − now it’s about lost votes. I’m still waiting for Joseph Muscat to shed some tears about the fact that the expat community still has to be shuttled to Malta instead of exercising its vote in an embassy or by post − what do the 2,800 have that we don’t?

While the politicians blame each other for the business of the dating of a writ and play up dubious constitutional disquisitions, the lost souls in this case are the ever increasing numbers of those who feel unrepresented by this farce. Then there was the AG’s appeal in the Realtà proceedings − I’ve stated elsewhere that the appeal itself will give us a necessary clarification on the state of the law on obscenity and pornography. Why the AG had to inconvenience any deities on this issue is rather baffling though.

Slovenly

Our national identity is in a period of great flux. How ingrained are the Catholic values of neighbourly love in our lives? When we look in the mirror do we really understand the image that we see? Which snapshot of our community is really us? Is it the police who defy the rules of logic and prohibit the sale of alcohol in a concert on some disproportionate pretext? Is it the hunters who plan to defy the Spring Hunting rules? Is it the spewers of hate on online billboards?

Is it the churchgoer who cannot digest the fact that the last words of a Nigerian soul on a sinking Boat of Hope were “Please Jesus Save Me”? Is it a politician who abuses the word “conscience” one time too many? Is it the political party that devotes more time to deception than to creative proposition?

What image represents the Maltese psyche? Can we sit down and write an essay portraying what goes on in an average Maltese man’s mind? Will we be comfortable with it? And in the end… will we end up in court defending the essay from the accusation of its being obscene and pornographic?

I’d ask God to help us but I’d like to think that Sunday is still his day of rest.

www.akkuza.com – expensive thoughts for a Sunday afternoon.

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Articles Divorce Politics

J'accuse : The Lost Boys (and Girls)

For the second time in a few weeks, Joseph Muscat’s spin office has been producing promotional video clips for the divorce referendum that are about everything but divorce. This week Inhobbkom’s little video clip was about the 2,800 Lost Boys and Girls who will not be allowed to cast their frijvowt (free vote) in the referendum. Joseph says he does not care how they would vote − if and when they are allowed to vote − and his inadvertent frankness on that particular point is rather moving.

What Labour’s Peter Pan fails to stress in his little bit of propaganda is that the outcome of the divorce issue has nothing to do with whether 2,800 youths apparate or disapparate on the electoral register thanks to the latest antic from the PLPN bag of tricks. Peter Pan is right though: his party does not care which way those 2,800 votes would go. It’s not those 2,800 votes that will determine whether or not divorce legislation gets through Parliament. It’s the 69 free votes of conscience that will do the trick.

Right now it pays Peter Pan to don his best suit and shed crocodile tears for the Lost Boys and their votes. It pays him to spin the latest of fables in our Fairy Tale politics where the Evil Gonzi is depicted as the villain who taketh away the votes and aspirations of the youth of the day. It’s revolting. Peter Pan’s party is on the same side as Gonzi’s on this one. Together they have contrived to leave the fate of the introduction of crucial legislation in the hands of 69 individual consciences − even after the outcome of the divorce referendum is known. Even Joseph thinks he is dragging us into Europe will eventually “respect the vote of the people” which means that a “No” vote in the referendum is one more No vote in Parliament as far as Joseph is concerned.

I’ll repeat this ad nauseam if I have to: The Labour Party has no position on divorce. The Nationalist Party has a position against divorce. Both parties have abdicated their representative responsibility by allowing a free vote in Parliament independently of what 2,800 youths, their constituencies or the whole electoral franchise thinks about the issue. Now that should make you sit down and weep.

Tinker Bell

Then there was the business of the Attorney General’s appeal in the Realtà case. The gut reaction was one of astonished disgust coupled with rhetorical questions as to whether the AG office’s timetable is not sufficiently stocked with interesting distractions. A second, more political, reaction targeted the occupier of Castille blaming him for allowing the AG to get on with this nonsense.

Writing in MaltaToday, James Debono tried to find out who was “politically responsible” for the Realtà case. As a nation we are beginning to demonstrate an acute inability to cope with the underpinnings of the rule of law and why we need it. Perhaps the knee-jerk reaction to dismissing a coherent set of arguments as “lawyer-speak” while reverting to the chaotic world of Maltese relativism has much to do with it. Sure we know the laws are there but hey − they must be twisted to make more sense in this day and age right? And why didn’t Lawrence Gonzi do just that with the Realtà case? It’s the 21st century no − what do we need laws and regulations for?

It’s the same thing for Joseph Muscat’s beef with the referendum motion and dates. Joseph’s solution was for the electoral commission to sit on the President’s writ for 18 days, just in time for the new electoral register to come into effect. You know that type of “I’ll close an eye just for this time” suggestion. As for the AG − many speculated that the Prime Minister should have intervened and prevented him from appealing. Sure. When would that be right and when would that be wrong? Who would decide? Laws and rules are not suggestions or guidelines − they are laws for a reason. They give us a sense of order and continuity as the old cliché goes: we are servants of the law so that we may be free.

Wendy Darling

Even though I do not find myself in agreement with the AG’s arguments as made in the appeal − particularly with his choice of inconveniencing deities once again (wasn’t divorce enough?) − I am still comfortable with the knowledge that this appeal forms part of a greater mechanism of interpretation and clarification of the law that is necessary for our society to work. The alternative is chaos and anarchy based on relative values. This appreciation should be part of every body’s civic conscience and not just of those who have gone through six years of law at university.

Understanding this objectively becomes even harder every day when the paladins of representative democracy twist and turn the picture to their own needs and devices. It is useless talking of “hidden rules of society” or conspiracy theories of some theocratic plot in some quarters if we are unable to get the message across about the usefulness of the rule of law that transforms − to the best of its imperfect capabilities − the will of the people into a working social system.

Nana

It’s a fine line between on the one hand a real society based on real laws and on the other a sham set of rules behind which hides the arch-democratic dictator. We’ve been very close to the latter before; I like to think we can still aspire towards the first… despite our politicians.

“All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.” − J.M. Barrie

www.akkuza.com − this column has been short-listed as a finalist in the Opinion Article section of the XXIst Malta Journalism Awards.