Failing words

I know it's been a few days, but it's expected of me, so here goes. What, in the name of all that's beautiful, were the MLP delegates, Lord luv'em, thinking? I mean to say, I've nothing against Smiley Jas, I've only ever met the guy once to my knowledge and he was perfectly civil, but, hey, he was one of the people in charge of the Labour Party when it ploughed yet another election - one in a continuing series, as it were - and yet, and yet, they voted him back in to the very same position.

It's not as if there was consensus that it was Alfred Sant's - and Dr Sant's alone - fault after all. There's something to be said for that argument, but come on, let's get real, there's no way one man alone could have plucked Labour's defeat from the jaws of its looming victory with such consummate skill. True enough, Sant was the head honcho in 1998, the referendum, 2003 and 2008 or whenever the fun and games were held, but not even someone with his particular brand of insouciant omniscience could have done it all alone, especially the last one, when it was clear to everyone that the depressing prospect of a Labour victory was becoming more real by the minute.

Michael Falzon, being a gentleman governed by a sense of integrity, walked. Charles Mangion, did likewise, and for the same reason. Sant - for whatever reason - did the same, though his reputation as the Comeback Kid and his intermittent rants since resigning made some people wonder if he wasn't going to do a Sinatra. But jolly old Smiley, who sees nothing wrong in hanging on like grim death to his particularly attractive position in the face of calls from plenty of good men and true for him to call it a day and make like shallow water on a hot day, blithely carried on with business as usual.

Thus it came to pass that he put himself forward for the very same position he occupied when Labour muffed it up again. And thus it came to pass that he was voted in, beating off the opposition.

The Delegates - you have to capitalise their appellation, they have an inflated sense of themselves which deserves it - ignored the writing on the wall and, for that matter, the writing in the papers and decided that voting Mr Micallef back in was more important than putting Leo Brincat and Michael Falzon into a virtually untenable position.

I have no idea what goes on in your common or garden delegate's brain but it seems that the prospect of (at least) two MPs finding themselves unable to work with the general secretary of their own party was as nothing compared with the prospect of Smiley being told to take a long walk on a short pier.

Of course, these are the same people who see nothing incongruous in electing an international secretary who is an avowed anti-European, having just, as a party, declared that we are in the EU and there's an end to it. Does this mean that these people don't know what the party's position is? Or that they don't care, as long as they irk the PN?

Still, Joe Muscat was anti-European too, and see where that's got him, so perhaps AST being anti-European is just a case of HMV but one cycle removed. Who knows?

So there we have it: the MLP is led by an ingénue, who in his turn is flanked by a duo who many have characterised, without much cause to gainsay them, as something of a comedy turn, the whole sorry pudding being leavened by the addition of Jason and his Golden Smile (bet you thought I was going to work in a reference to the Jason who fleeced the MLP out of a golden opportunity to govern - sorry to disappoint you).

Changing the subject completely, this is a country of barrack-room lawyers and then some. If you don't believe me, take a look at the comments section in the electronic version of the paper, where not even a cock-up by a bunch of Sicilians is allowed to go by without everyone and his brother laying down the law about how the government, GO plc, the MCA and - for all I know - the cleaner at the Comino Hotel were responsible for the internet crash we suffered last Wednesday and how they, the people commenting, know better.

Which is a convoluted way of leading in to mentioning that Judge Giovanni Bonello's masterly separate judgments at the European Court of Human Rights have been collected in a rather fine book which anyone with even a passing interest in fine writing, the law and human rights should obtain.

As I write this, the news about the Hon. Karl Chircop's condition remains bleak. I have only met the gentleman once or twice and can't say I know him, for all that people in the public eye such as he seem to be familiar to all of us. Although it actually doesn't really make sense, I add my good wishes to those already expressed by so many others.

It doesn't make sense only because many others are going through similar sadness and are ignored by all except those who know them personally, but that is the reality of the human condition, I suppose.

It makes sense, though, because showing solidarity with even one man and his family and friends becomes almost an imperative in these circumstances, when the enormity of the tragedy is brought home so starkly.