A sense of wonderment

It is with a sense of wonderment that I have heard the awesome noises of appreciation that have greeted the MLP's adoption of an apparently more reasonable outlook on life, an outlook that has taken shape since Dr Joseph Muscat has had greatness thrust upon him.

Such has been the outpouring of joy that has spewed from forth the mouths, pens and keyboards of all the little elves, and from many in the media who seem to have come under the spell of young Muscat, that it might seem almost churlish of me to carp, and it is certainly not the weather to be churlish.

Hot and sticky, yes, churlish, perhaps not.

Still, where would the world be without people like me to attract the brickbats and insults of those who feel that this habit of mine of expressing an opinion should be controlled? Naturally, were my opinions to be four-square with those of the lil'elves, the opprobrium wouldn't be nearly as voluminous, because those who I then would be irritating are far too polite to write in and call me names.

Why the sense of wonderment, I imagine you're asking. Well, the thing is, in 2008 it is mildly am-and-bemusing to see how impressed certain people are because the MLP has finally decided, or so it seems, to grow up and act like a constructive opposition rather than saying no to everything and barking "division" every time someone does something that displeases them.

Just after the election result, when it was clear that the Nationalists would be governing with only one seat to spare, there was this feeling, presumably put abroad by those whose living depended on keeping the faithful, erm, faithful, that this was a government not long for governing. The sub-text to this was that "nini nini we won't be giving them pairing", a bit on the lines of "it's my ball and if I can't make the rules, I'm taking it home".

What the faithful don't realise, of course, is that, as in other normal countries, most bits of legislation go through on the nod. In fact, mostly there's consensus, because the vast bulk of law is enacted to regulate matters for the good of the country as a whole, rather than for the edification of the PN or the MLP.

Pig headed obstructionism, while being an appealing trait for those who love their heroes to stand up and pretend to be counted (before sloping off to the Members' Bar for a swift pint with the "enemy") actually achieves very little. It's generally only on matters of political principle (like whether to have a yacht marina in Vittoriosa, for instance) that governments stand or fall if they lose a vote, or on money matters.

With a modicum of planning, such things can be scheduled to balance the government's obligation to govern and its need to pass laws, so the single seat majority isn't so earth-shatteringly material in the normal course of events.

So, the MLP deciding to behave itself, using this phrase in the limited context I'm using it above, isn't such a wondrous thing, really. Incidentally, and cynically, one might float the idea that what they're doing is lulling the government into a false sense of security but I'm sure that's not the point: in a sense, Dr Muscat being too young to have been corrupted by the rabid us and them mentality imbued in us by the Mintoff Manner of Managing, is responsible by being anointed to the leadership at the right time.

This having been said, I have to dispel the impression I might have given that I've fallen under the lad's spell, as so many others seem to have. I'm all for giving him a chance and all that, but hey, he's come out to play with the big boys, so he can take his knocks along with them.

I am going to insult him mightily, then, just so the lil'elves can all reach as one for their word-producing implements and dump on me.

I watched Dr Muscat for a couple of minutes being interviewed by Pierre Portelli and, I have to say, I was impressed by the lessons he's learnt at the knee of the one who clearly inspires him.

It is to the Right Hon. Anthony Blair QC PC to whom I refer, Bambi as was, the one to who touchiness and feeliness and answering the question he wanted to answer and not the one that was put to him came to be second nature, especially towards the end of his tenancy of No. 10.

Shirt-sleeves, slightly rumpled informality, hugs and cuddles (Joe Debono Grech, come on up and get smooched) are the order of the day, and while these little touches are fine, they're no substitute for gravitas and bottom, now, are they?

There, that should attract a couple of choice ones.

In closing, permit me a high five to Nickie Borg Costanzi, who just kayaked from Malta to Sicily. Way to go, kiddo, that's showing the old man.

imbocca@gmail.com, www.timesofmalta.com/blogs