Two weeks ago I wrote that the Prime Minister has a mastery over the elements, and that every event he hosts will turn out a picnic in the sun. I was wrong. The only good thing about the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting weather was that it gave David Cameron the chance to do a Mintoff and boast about it to an incredulous Joseph Muscat.

If I were a cat, I’d be a Cheshire. Every gust of wind, every promise of a shower, brought a smile to my face.

That’s right, I’m delighted that one thing at least went wrong. I was hoping there would also be a power cut, or that a flasher would run across the stage at the opening ceremony. As is, I had to make do with the rotten weather.

The reason for my joy in other people’s misfortunes has nothing to do with the Prime Minister or his government. They did their duty as hosts and I would be mean to fault them for that. Rather, my problem is with the Commonwealth itself and what it represents.

There can be no escaping the fact that my target is the heir of empire.

The Commonwealth is the answer to a question that troubled the British as early as the turn of the 20th century, even as imperial and colonial spectacle were at their surreal best.

They wondered what would become of their Empire if more colonies went down the road to self-government.

There were signs that the sun could, in fact, set. That uneasy dusk brought out the owl of Minerva, and with it things like the Imperial Federation and the Round Table movement.

These were essentially latter-day takes on imperialism, intended to uphold British interests in the face of change.

It’s hard not to think of the Commonwealth, which was established in 1949 as the British Commonwealth, as a sort of consolation prize.

Still, the idea was not necessarily a bad one. This was an organisation that defined its member states, including the United Kingdom, as free and equal. That much was a radical departure from imperialism, and surely there was no harm in mining a common legacy for the common good.

In terms of hard-nosed and tangible political outcomes, the Commonwealth is a non-starter. CHOGM, for example, is part-talking shop, part-tourist advertorial for the host country, part-orgy of global babble and platitudes.

The trick is to lower our expectations (not easy when an entire country is shut down, but never mind) and think of the Commonwealth as a venue of cultural exchange. Incidentally, that’s the direction the EU may take, what with its fundamental principle of free movement in tatters and all.

CHOGM is essentially a royal visit, with some big chiefs thrown in for added value

So all’s well, then? Not quite. The problem with the Commonwealth, and especially with the biennial spectacle that sustains it, is that it seems unable to shake off its imperial legacy. In other words, that the ‘free and equal’ collection of member states has in its midst a first among equals.

Take the top post. The head of the Commonwealth is also the queen of the country that ruled over the Empire.

There appears to be a bit of fuzziness over the post, which is largely – but very significantly – symbolic.

Be that as it may, one might expect a common wealth of free and equals to be headed by someone chosen by those equals in a free way. That’s assuming the Commonwealth needs a symbolic head at all.

I especially disliked the presence of (not him personally) Prince Charles at CHOGM. There was no question of him representing the Queen, because she was there all along.

So what exactly was he doing there, and why was he treated so specially?

To British people, Prince Charles has a constitutional role as the heir apparent to their monarch. In the Commonwealth, he is simply the eccentric son of one of the heads of the free and equal states.

Many of the heads of government present at the opening ceremony have eccentric sons and daughters, none of whom was invited to take a front seat.

Which is strange, unless Prince Charles is also the heir apparent to the headship of the Commonwealth.

That would be wrong on at least two counts. First, many of the member states, Malta included, do not uphold the principle of power by heredity.

Second, it would confirm that the former colonial master is indeed the first among equals.

Then there was the choreography of it all. As I write, Malta is a sea of Union Flags. The flags of Cameroon, Barbados, and the rest are nowhere to be seen.

It’s essentially a royal visit, with some big chiefs thrown in for added value.

The spirit of CHOGM is that of an Imperial durbar in British India ca.1910, with the King perched on a dais high above a motley crowd of maharajahs, administrators, and sycophants.

If the Commonwealth stood for the end of all that, all would be well.

Romance aside, the British Empire was built on conquest and so-called free trade enforced by violence or the threat of it. That is now the past, and there’s little point in brooding over it.

Only there’s even less point in re-enacting it.

Symbolic or not, the state of the art is rotten. It should be changed, or done away with entirely.

mafalzon@hotmail.com