All nails, no theses for Debono

I have no axe to grind for the Nationalist Party. Whether or not Franco Debono's unorthodox method of voting in Parliament has 'harmed' the party is profoundly irrelevant to me; as is the extent to which he should be roughed up by party squires eager to score some ranking points of their own.

I am, however, interested in a number of issues brought up by this whole business for two reasons. First, they tell us a fair bit about the workings of contemporary Maltese politics. Second, there are lessons to be learned as to how individual political identities and dissent might be managed within a polity dominated by two monolithic-minded parties.

The first thing that struck me was just how dismally Debono played his hand. The problem was not that he dissented, or that he failed to show up for a crucial vote. The former's a pain for the party apparatchiks, the latter a headache for the party whip, and neither need concern us.

Debono misorchestrated his dissent. Instead of telling us exactly what his worries were, and why he thought the Prime Minister needed a rap on the knuckles, he managed the most erratic and tactless fudge possible. If he really had serious misgivings, he should have issued a statement to the press at the time of the vote.

Even Dom Mintoff - way bigger than our man and not exactly the master of diplomatic nuance - had seen necessary in 1998 to pin some sketches to the front door of the Palace and tell the media why he thought Alfred Sant should go back to writing novels.

Not so with Debono, who embarked on an almighty sulk but failed to nail his theses. The closest he got was a rather unconvincing litany of "urgent points", apparently post hoc and mostly in reaction to George Bonello Dupuis' savaging. In a textbook own goal, he turned political identity into insubordination, and dissent into a tantrum.

The Prime Minister's response was to put on his full family-man armour and a fatherly smile and pay him an evening visit at his home. The intended message was clear: Debono was more misbehaving child than political dissenter, and all he needed was a spot of gentle but firm counsel by his parents. One might add that, in showing the 'home visit' film clip ad nauseum, One TV and maltastar.com played nicely into the hands of the PN strategists.

But there was a second, equally fascinating, sub-plot to the whole story. In his doomed 'Dupuis defence', Debono pointed out that parliamentarians "were not party delegates but representatives of the people". He therefore had a right to go against party policy to safeguard his constituents' interests.

At first glance, Debono is right. Because MPs are elected directly by citizens rather than appointed at their parties' leisure, he is technically justified in saying that he is nobody's man but his constituents'. At the same time, he is - as George W. Bush would put it - "misunderestimating" an essential paradox that lies at the heart of Maltese political structures.

The brute fact is that Debono, or anyone else for that matter, would stand absolutely zilch chance of being elected as an independent citizen. No matter how popular a village lawyer and magnificent a champion of 'the people' he is, Debono is in Parliament for the reason Dupuis mentioned - that the PN put him on its ticket.

Then again, given that not all candidates on a party ticket get elected, he can't just root for the PN generally and forget his constituents. The lesson Debono ought to learn is that, in Malta, the success of a parliamentarian depends very much on how well they navigate the triangular patch of ocean between constituents, party, and state. Saying, as he did, that "people are greater than the party", is just not good enough.

Some might object that this second point has nothing to do specifically with Malta, and that the people-party paradox is true of all parliamentary democracies. I would agree, though only partly so.

My reservations have to do with the third issue raised by the Debono story.

It's clear he signed his own political death warrant, and that his career as a politician is now on a par with the last years of Martha, the passenger pigeon who died in a US zoo in 1914. Franco Debono MP has become a curiosity, both alive and extinct.

The reason, we're told, is that no one is greater than the party. This is definitely true, and getting increasingly true by the minute.

The two big Maltese parties have become increasingly totalitarian in tone and structure. The reasons are complicated and probably have to do with, among other things, the bizarre polarisation of the 1980s and the demands of contemporary political campaigning, which entails the coordination of massive resources such as can be pulled off only by professional organisations.

Suffice it to say that party billboards have replaced canvassers' graffiti, and corner meetings given way to radio stations controlled by the parties. In sum, individual political identities have become tremendously difficult to assert. With them goes the possibility of public dissent.

Whichever way one looks at it, hero or villain, Debono has (unwittingly, I suspect) put his finger on a very real question. Assuming that a duopoly of tribes is not the way forward, what sort of alternative structures might we explore in order to allow our politicians their own thoughts and words?

mafalzon@hotmail.com