You know how some parents insist on being their children’s best friends? They pepper their language with words like ‘wicked’ and ‘awesome’, text ‘LOL’ profusely, buy teen-matching outfits and hang out with their kids’ friends when they come home.

I seem to be bumping into these parents more and more. But it’s not just that – these days we have people exclaim how their boss at work is their very best friend, or how their shrink/nail technician/cat pet is their bff. It feels like there’s this increasing neediness of being chummy-fun-chummy. Now we’ve taken it to another level: now we want the leaders of our countries to be our best friends too.

All around the world people are choosing people to lead them based on a simple question: would I want to have him for dinner, sing karaoke, watch Bay Watch and hold a whose-equipment-is-bigger competition.

Each time I watch BBC news, I feel like I’m watching a horseshow, with the audience craning to see who’ll keep it most entertained. Erdoğan in Turkey, Putin in Russia, Trump in the US, Marine Le Pen in France, Nigel Farage in the UK, Alexis Tsipras in Greece, Viktor Orbán in Hungary, Beppe Grillo in Italy, Frauke Petri in Germany, Catarina Martins in Portugal, Pablo Iglesias Turrion in Spain, the list is far-reaching. And we’re all going: “Wow, check out that deep neigh!” “Now, that’s a proper manly trot”.

So what are the traits of world leaders these days? Apart from the fact that they all sound slightly (or not-so-slightly) deranged, there seems to be a pattern of characteristics, namely:

Very emotional and showy. You won’t make it on the political platform unless you roar. A leader must roar on the beaches, on the landing grounds, on the fields, in the streets, in the hills and especially on Twitter. Down with restraint, in with swearing, dancing on the table and that odd sob or two.

A modern leader can’t wait for advice and briefing, but prefers to be creative on the spot when it comes to reactions. Hence the infinitely articulate ‘Little rocket man’

Very impatient. A ‘modern’ leader caters for a concentration span shorter than the size of an amoeba. So they can’t wait for advice and briefing, but prefer to be creative on the spot when it comes to reactions. Hence the infinitely articulate “Little rocket man”.

Very inexperienced. Half the voters around the world seem to be seeing this as a healthy thing. Which is like choosing the most inexperienced surgeon to perform your major operation.

Very unfemminist. Popular leaders pretend they are all for equality (mind you, at times they don’t even bother). However, it is clear that their target audience is the God-fearing, hard-working, gun-owning, car-polishing man. Women are there to look foxy, preferably in Baywatch bikinis, and smile demurely at the camera.

And what do these leaders tell us that really attracts us to them?

They say “We are the real people”. Nigel Farage celebrated the Brexit vote by claiming that it had been a “victory for real people” – presumably the other 48 per cent who supported Remain were mannequins.

They say “Let’s unite”. As Trump said: “The only important thing is the unification of the people – because the other people don’t mean anything.”

They say “Down with the establishment”. And even when in power they blame the establishment acting behind the scenes, at home or abroad. See the President of Venezuela Nicolás Maduro.

They say: “I am the brave underdog”. We lost count how many times Turkey’s Erdoğan said that.

It’s the same script over and over. And people watch and listen and they say, “Hey he’s the man I want to get drunk with, I wanna be his best friend forever, lemme vote for him.” And the more we watch, the more we become de-sanitised and possibly hypnotised.

My peers and I look at each other perplexed and gravely concerned. We watch silently, we think of packing and leaving to countries where the voice of sanity is not silenced and discredited, but to go where? A friend of mine said to me recently: “It’s a disaster… the world is a disaster – just went to Tel Aviv and Israel and the only sane people sigh resignedly while Netanyahu continues with his horrors. The horror, the horror!”

And maybe that’s it. The only thing we can do is sigh resignedly. We have a word in Maltese for it: ‘Ajma’. It is a word so versatile, so onomatopoeic that it captures all that we are feeling: the pain, the rolling of the eyes, the wanting to stop this now, the oops how can this be happening, and the huge sigh. The latter is very cathartic – please go ahead and do it while reading – Ajma – and repeat as often as you like – maybe if we sigh collectively the universe will hear our plea.

It will help us to remember that life is still beautiful and unpredictable and full of wonder, despite it all.

krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @krischetcuti