I.M. Beck - quote unquote

The MLP machine, as is its wont, has roused itself into action and started to squeal and squeak, rather like a startled mouse, about the conflict of interest that has suddenly come to light in the person of Mr Marin Hili and his interest in the Freeport of Venice.

Just for the benefit of anyone who doesn't know what Mr Hili does, he's the head honcho at Malta Freeport. He also has multifarious business interests, which makes him a heinous blackguard from the point of view of the great unwashed, though so far as I am concerned, more power to his elbow and would that there were many more like him, giving a fillip to the economy and, surprise surprise, the job prospects of the very same great unwashed.

It appears that Mr Hili has taken up a commercial interest in the Venice Freeport, shock horror. According to the commercial and economic luminaries who head up Doctor Alfred Sant's publicity machine, this is a conflict of interest that demonstrates how this government and its dastardly hangers-on (they used to be called barons, remember?) are only interested in making dosh for themselves.

From a facile point of view, when one looks at it from the superficial rather than the real aspect, there may be something of an argument here.

Wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. The Freeport of Venice caters for its own geographic catchment area and this area has nothing to do with Malta, at all. To call having an interest in a port in Venice a conflict of interest is the same as saying that because you have an ice-cream kiosk in Bugibba, you can't have one in Marsalforn, because you would be diverting your customers from one to the other to the detriment of one or the other.

Perhaps a grasp of geography is not among Doctor Alfred Sant's many, and undisputed, talents.

But there's more to this story, a more, if you like, that shows how cynical and self-serving most of Doctor Alfred Sant's machine's arguments are.

It is a known fact that Mr Hili has a commercial interest in another Freeport, that of Latvia, and that he has had this interest since 1995. Now, in 1996, we had that little blip, otherwise known as the Prime Ministership of Doctor Alfred Sant, and Mr Hili was retained as chairman of the Malta Freeport.

Doctor Alfred Sant, it must be assumed, knew about the Latvian connection back in 1996 and it would appear that said Doctor Alfred Sant had nothing to say about conflicts of interest then, as opposed to now.

So what is the answer to the conundrum that has come to light? Is an interest conflicting only when it exists under a Nationalist government? Does this mean that, when in government, Doctor Alfred Sant ignores conflicts of interest because it is convenient for him so to do? Or does it mean that, actually, there is no conflict of interest and it is expedient to obfuscate and call it that, just to spread some more muck?

As demonstrated above, there is no conflict of interest, Venetian or Latvian, so it remains to be deduced that Doctor Alfred Sant's machine is a cynical self-serving juggernaut that cares only about scoring cheap political points.

The only alternative is that Doctor Alfred Sant knew about, and condoned, a situation of conflict of interest, which cannot have been the case.

Prehensile

In his obsession with titling his weekly PR column with words which start with "PR", which was an enjoyable enough conceit when it started but which is now getting a touch tiresome, Doctor Alfred Sant has now had to have recourse to the use of the word "Prehensile", which describes proboscises (noses, for those of you who don't have a dictionary handy) in order to head up a column having a jolly old groan about big business.

Coming from someone who has been described as the managing director of Malta Inc. and as a hard-nosed, commercially minded bloke all over (at least, he is so described when it is the commercial sector that is being wooed) I would have thought that this sort of groan would have been a bit self-defeating, but let's leave that aside.

Actually, having had a butcher's at the dictionary, it dawned on me that the use of the word "prehensile" was quite felicitous, as it refers to something handy for wrapping around and grabbing things, though the secondary meaning, being "gifted with mental grasp or moral or aesthetic perception", tends to make me wonder whether he was being a bit autobiographical and if so, which of the two meanings he would apply to himself.

Think about that one for a bit.

Doctor Alfred Sant went on, in the column to which I am making some passing reference to say that "far be it from [him] to decry the usefulness of market mechanisms in order to establish an acceptable balance between supply and demand, and to generate forward-looking investment through the search for profits by private entrepreneurs."

He went on to say that "modern greed, like that of old times some will argue, meant that the people on top - the big chairmen and chief executive officers - gouged out from their corporations remuneration packages that every six months increased their take-home pay by millions."

In a nutshell, I am moved to ask, is Doctor Alfred Sant on the side of the big battalions or not? Does he want the private sector to contribute to the economy or does he want it to be subservient to those who can control it, because they are more moral and brainier than the people who are at the top of the private sector (and I'll give you one guess who thinks he's brainier and more moral than the people at the top)?

I know that he will probably say, bless 'im, that his Wednesday Column is nothing more or less than some grey matter expectoration, musing out loud and all that, but isn't it about time that he reminded himself that he is, at the moment, the Leader of the Opposition and as such, he hasn't the luxury that, say, I have, of being able to make lousy puns in his headlines all the time (some of the time would be OK) and ruminate out loud.

In other words, when he puts digits to keyboards and taps out convoluted expressions of greyness such as those which I have quoted, it might be nice if he were to get off the pot and sit on one side of the fence, rather than flying kites all the time.

Yellow card

I'm not trying to remind the Italians (the supporters, let me hasten to add, lest some over-sensitive neighbour to our North gets all het up) about the shenanigans and mischievousness that accompanied their exit from the World Cup when I write about cards, yellow or red.

No, I'm referring to the Yellow Card held up and waved in full public view at Mr Alfred Mifsud, who might think it was a bit impertinent for this to be done to him, but who has had it done to him, willy nilly.

The Labour Party executive committee on Monday sent a clear signal to Mr Mifsud he would have problems if he persisted in writing and making statements that ended up being used by the opposition to damage the MLP.

I'm always surprised at the extent to which Doctor Alfred Sant's machine shoots itself in the extremities. It is not the fact that Mr Mifsud, not a run-of-the-mill character, one has to admit, is at variance with Doctor Alfred Sant on two very significant issues that worries them.

No, let's have none of that. It is the fact that Mr Mifsud makes statements that can be used to damage the MLP that worries them, which is a bit like saying that it's OK to be a bad boy, as long as you don't get caught.

Which is fine if you have that sort of outlook on life, but not so fine if you don't.

Contempt of court

Far be it from me to comment on matters litigious, lest I influence the court in its deliberation. This would be contempt of court, even though the mere idea that my feeble attempt at poking some holes in the solemn dark fabric that shrouds the Palais de Justice would influence the courts, is contemptuous in itself.

But I have to express some degree of contempt, if that is not too harsh an expression, at the silly idea that someone had that it would be a good thing to prosecute that fellow who showed up our general level of security as being little better than a Brownie Pack guarding a nuclear power station in Baghdad.

Might it not have been a better idea if the people responsible for not having security in place were jumped on?

Eight and a half

Last Saturday, food was had at a new place in Sliema, near the Tower, called (see above) eight and a bit. The place was suggested to me by a fan whose e-mail deleted itself, so I will extend my thanks this way rather than directly.

You will have guessed, by the fact that I am saying thanks, that I rather enjoyed myself and, faith and begorrah, you'd be right.

Apart from the major, major hassle of parking in Sliema, which is, um, major, the place is nicely situated for a mild stroll after the face-stuffing thereof.

You walk in to a welcoming, if long, room, take your seat at finely accoutred tables, with linen napkins and all, and the good stuff starts wending its way towards you, served up by two young gentlemen who sling the hash with the best of them.

It might be the case that when you go there, such is the power of this column, that the two lads will be a bit hard pressed to keep up with the pressure and it is to be hoped that due account will be taken of service standards.

Food standards are of the highest, I have to say. The fare might be slightly on the heavy side for summer, though I didn't think so myself, and the extra bits and pieces you get are most enjoyable.

If I were pressed to moan, I might say that the air-conditioning was a touch feeble, as was the refrigeration of the booze, which was cool, not chilled, but these are minor.

Go there.

And if you like fish, go to Da Pietro in St Paul's Bay. Don't go as a football team, because the place is not meant to cater for mobs, but you get fresh fish, guaranteed, excellent pasta (with fish) and wine and other bevvies served as they're supposed to be served.

Missing the point

One Revel Barker, in the Independent, referred to the bit where I asked if someone had got it. He, clearly, didn't.