Was this a contrite St Augustine of Hippo, humbly spelling out his confessions, beat­ing his chest, baring himself naked to public scorn, seeking absolution for his grave sins of ommission?

Absolution, mind you, not from his fellow countrymen, who had trusted him with their votes and to whom he never apologised, but from foreign bureaucrats. Those he once so despised and who have now become his best buddies, as directed by his puppet master.

This diminutive but meticulously groom­ed honorable gentleman, with his soft voice, horn-rimmed glasses and the beautiful white mane of an aging lion, really looked the part. This time our chosen candidate, with his long experience in local and foreign political duplicity, will easily blend in with the rest of those nasty Europeans who had rejected Toni Abela in a puff of white powder. I wonder what really changed this time.

But at this point, I too have a confession to make. As I watched Leo Brincat happily spilling the beans of betrayal on tele­vision, expressing great satisfaction at his acceptance, and expecting even us to forgive him now that he has joined the exclusive Bruxelle Club, this very in­effectual ex-minister for the environment in the scandal-ridden Muscat govern­ment brought to mind something much less holy than a penitent saint. Old and never-acknowleged sins of betrayal reared their ugly heads.

It was the year 1982. Against the wishes of the majority, he silently followed the rest of a discredited Labour gang in gladly choosing to follow the letter of the Constitution, rather than its democratic spirit, and clinging desperately to a seat of power he didn’t deserve. And my mind conjoured up a rather tragi-comic and pathetic figure: the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz.

The lion was one of Dorothy’s three companions on their way to Emerald City to seek an audience with the great and wonderful Oz in the iconic 1939 movie starring Judy Garland. All three characters remind me of local politicians: a tinman without a heart, a scarecrow without a brain, and a lion without courage.

This particular lion has now stated, publicly and emphatically, that the minister at Castille should resign. But earlier, when it came to the crunch, he betrayed his noble namesake and cowered like a frightened lamb before the diktat of his corrupt leader.

Here I must make a very important qualification if I want to avoid being dragged to court for libel. I use the word corrupt not because of any pilfering of public monies, God forbid, but because this self-confessed salesman gladly peddles Machiavellian values, where the end justifies the means. This is deadly venom. Once it enters the system it quickly spreads, infecting a whole generation and leading to the quick death of morality.

His mighty roar was never heard before or after he cast a vote in favour of a culture that breeds corruption

I use the word corrupt because the Prime Minister defends the indefensible against the advice of his own spineless ministers, and because he appears to forget his oath of allegience to Malta, serving instead the greed of traitors.

Corrupt because he appears to have grown accoustomed to thinking of himself as an absolute and remote monarch, who does not owe any explanation to anybody, beyond the other members of the unholy trinity he is part of. I suspect that within that trinity he is neither the scheming father, nor the capitalist spirit, but a sacrificial son.

With the suave air of a veteran, wise politician, Leo revealed to us – sorry, to the European MEPs (local voters being less important) – that his conscience had suggested he ought to resign. But then a voice from heaven (it could easily have been from hell) invited him not to give up, and as in the past, hold on to his seat of power in order to make his voice heard.

But where exactly? Certainly not in Parlament. His mighty roar was never heard before or after he cast a vote in favour of a culture that breeds corruption; instead he has now emitted a pathetic whimper to justify forfeiting his free will and honest judgement.

Ah, now I see it! He had been saving it for a more important forum, away from the sludge-covered shores of our little up-for-grabs island in the sun. That forum being the EU, where he could safely express his real, upright self, far from the risk of incurring the vendetta of a master who does not appreciate dissidents (like me).

Too bad that, thanks to his cowardice, we are lumped with two more years of shady wheelings and dealings. We are paying the price of his silence, so the lion could keep his roar and claim higher glory – and why not, a deservedly higher remuneration – while honest people like Marlene Farrugia get shunned and labelled a traitor. A classic case of topsy-turvy.

Now, with a little help from his friends, he has managed to slip through. And lo and behold, the tamed lion has re­discovered his vigour, his courage and his voice, letting out an uncompromising roar that he would not brook of any kind of corruption.

Could this actually mean it is payback time, for being marginalised and bullied into submission by the nouveau riche of a party that has completely lost its socialist soul? Who knows, perhaps in the distant city of wonders and power he’s bound for, some Wizard of Oz will help him deliver a mortal blow to the upstarts who fooled us all.

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