There is no doubt that by the time the sun sets on Joseph Muscat’s political career, he’ll have earned himself a place in Maltese history alongside our nation’s most forceful and persuasive statesmen. The man who hailed former prime minister Lawrence Gonzi as a powerful opponent, the best orator the Maltese House of Representatives had seen in years, has come into his own.

Once upon a time I never imagined Muscat would be Gonzi’s equal as a speaker, let alone Eddie Fenech Adami’s. Effective communication, you see, is not easily learned or just ‘winged’.

Muscat has certainly matured politically. He has exceeded my expectations and, in some respects, may have even surpassed his predecessors who were always more comfortable on home turf when addressing the nation – or the House – in the vernacular.

With Muscat, you almost get the feeling that the bigger and more powerful the audience, the more convincing and dignified the performance. Autocued or not, he’s at ease and unfazed whether he’s addressing the United Nations General Assembly or going head to head with a political adversary in a local debate. Whether you love or loathe him, agree or disagree with him, there’s no denying that Muscat is an outstanding public speaker.

But there’s a downside. Scaling the political heights comes at a price and not without its fair share of responsibility. Standards have to be met and gravitas maintained. Just as serious actors are known to turn down roles that diminish their stature or cheapen their reputations, the Prime Minister must know what to say, and when, and never be associated with public statements or gestures unworthy of his statesmanship. The fact that he doesn’t always get it right is worrying. And it certainly doesn’t say much for his team of advisers, if such exist.

Muscat’s government still makes far too many crass errors of judgement. Is this symptomatic of a government that is far too young and cocky? Or is it simply down to bad taste and bad protocol?

I am of course referring to the New Year’s Day speech, which was more like a choreographed sequence. It was painful to watch and even more painful to listen to. How someone like Muscat, who in may ways would seem to be a master of realpolitik, can buy into these images and then expect us to believe something so utterly cheesy and culturally naff is something I struggle to comprehend.

This recent cliff-edge political ‘spin’ was definitely not cutting-edge. It started off in ‘pre-wedding’ video style (cue unspoilt coastline, waves beating on shoreline). Next came a ‘postcard from the Maltese Islands’ straight out of a Song for Europe. The subliminal feel-good images were all there – bells, babies, boat-building and bread-making. A gay couple all too briefly crossed the screen while a more traditional family photo album brought together the generations. There was even a grand piano.

The Prime Minister must... never be associated with public statements or gestures unworthy of his statesmanship

All this presumably to remind us of how lucky we are to live on such a fantastic island. But what it did was underscore an inappropriate irony – that when the government wanted to play the emotive ‘real Malta’ card, it found itself resorting to the very landscape it currently endangers and sells too cheaply. Why not confront other images? Why not Fort Cambridge or the Tigné Point skyline (an environmental atrocity committed under the previous administration and soon to be perpetuated under this one), instead of Fort St Angelo?

The waves subside (only to return at the end!) and we are taken into the home of a full-time, slimline working couple who also happen to be expecting their first child. We are not sure who has done the inviting. Do these people know the Prime Minister? Or have they been ‘randomly’ selected because they just happen to tick the right boxes? But what is definitely convenient is that they are prototypical first-time buyers who will be benefiting from the government’s tax property waiver scheme, the free childcare, reduced water and electricity bills and other tax reductions and incentives.

What we could easily work out, however, was that the designer residence was not your average ‘starter home’. In fact, the whole thing had a bogus showroom constructed  feel. Coffee is robotically served in this kitsch of a kitchen: no one bothers to ask the Prime Minister if he wants milk and sugar. Admittedly, he does take a sip. Then there’s a conversation fade-out with some voice-overs.  Muscat then proceeds to hog the open-plan kitchen and launches into his New Year’s speech for the next 17 minutes.

A speech – especially a New Year’s day speech – should be just that. Simple, serious, concise – no more than five or six minutes long – and credible. No speech can ever sound authentic when it is dripping with pretence.

Muscat should have spoken from his own home or, better still, from his office. And while I expect the Prime Minister to eulogise and accentuate the positives, I fully expect him be reflective and soul-searching. To draw attention to the things that need improvement, of which there are many. It would have been so much better had the pictures captured the potholes, the pavements, the litter, the transport and immigration problems, with Muscat pledging to make 2016 the year when all these problems would be seriously tackled.

Maybe I am the one who is making the song and dance here, although to me Muscat’s ‘pop video’ epitomises what is fundamentally wrong with this government. They package themselves badly.

Ironically what’s underneath the gift-wrap is better. They’re a high-profile administration given to unnecessary, misplaced excess, and it doesn’t look good. One hopes that the speech is not a sign of more to come. The Prime Minister needs to take stock, rein in the spending and cultivate a lower profile for his government.

He also needs to take better care of those hills and bastions he brought alive to the sound of music. All of them.

michelaspiteri@gmail.com