Politics in Malta is an activity for all seasons. No sooner is a general election over but the two main political parties are back at it hammer and thongs. It is as if electioneering never stops. In part it reflects a healthy ongoing political debate, so essential to a vibrant democracy. In other part it makes for dreary news bulletins, much idle chatter and, not infrequently, a descent to the pits of personal attacks.
The reason for such unbroken exchange accompanied by much vituperation is the template habit of party leaders to practise the always-on-Sunday routine. They practically never take a break. Each and every Sunday they spout out their embedded opinions and the latest polishing of them with what happens to be in the news that week.
Whoever the person leading the party, this habit has taken deep root. The leaders usually address no more than two handfuls of party faithful. But, pouring their heart out and as passionately as can be, they press home points as if the whole future of Malta’s citizens depended on them.
They may say nothing new, or of interest beyond their party faithful. But the media report their uttering faithfully on Monday, and then the acolytes of each leader regurgitate the profound revelation or message or both throughout the rest of the week.
It is as if the political leaders have nothing better to do on Sunday and would be lost without delivering their weekly sermon. With individual electoral candidates the habit was there in different guise. In the years I spent doing politics it was de rigueur for a candidate to do the rounds of bars in one or other town or village in his consistency, saying hello, offering or being bought drinks, exchanging banter with those who practise the odd Maltese habit of getting sloshed before lunch.
I recall the horror of my own canvassers when I would refuse to be part of the religious routine, preferring to spend my Sundays at home. You lose hundreds of votes that way, they would warn me. Either way, I did not care. But then, I was never a party leader. Leaders care. They feel it is part of their duty to man the barricades, so to put it, every blessed Sunday mornings.
Why on earth do you do it so regularly and excessively? I have on occasion asked that or the other leader on both sides of the fence. The answer, in so many words, was because the chap on the other side did it.
Democracy demands the clash and contrast of ideas. But I do think that it is ridiculous that it takes place at the summit of our politics every Sunday, that the parties have to electioneer non-stop. I get the feeling that the process is accelerating.
The Labour side, like all parties in opposition do, has increased the stress on “the next election” in its vocabulary. Opposition parties feel they have to keep their supporters warm, to make then think the next general election is round the corner, even if it is still years away.
I understand the tactic but doubt its worth when practised without an eye on timing. An opposition party thereby risks peaking too soon.
On its part the Nationalist side not only responds in kind but even ups the ante. Example: the Labour leader put the hugely popular and shrewd Karmenu Vella in charge of starting to prepare the party programme for the next election – still more than two years down the road.
The Nationalists responded as if, indeed, it was due almost tomorrow, and set about a typical character assassination campaign on Mr Vella.
The pity of it all is that, not only is much time and energy lost through such antics but the impression is strengthened that politics is a dreary, dirty game. It is not that bad – politicians make it seem so because they do not respect their own calling.
But the damage is still done, to the detriment of true democracy which requires politicians who can come up with alternatives and have the ability to present them persuasively, and just as persuasively point out where the other side is unconvincing.