Manius Aquillius was a Roman consul who lived about two thousand years ago. He was one of the richest people in the Roman Empire but also one of the greediest – it seems he was never happy with what he had, and wanted more for the sake of more.
If he lived today, he would be the kind of chap with multiple billions in his bank accounts, and yet, for want of more, he’d build an ugly 38-storey tower in the middle of an urban town, spoiling views, blocking the sun, causing chaos in traffic – just for the sake of making extra bucks.
But I digress. This Manius Aquillius eventually met his match in Mithridates, the king of Pontus and Armenia Minor, what is now Turkey. Mithridates was one of the very few formidable and successful enemies of the Roman Republic, and at his hands, Aquillius’s death was symbolic of the way he lived: he had molten gold poured down his throat.
On the eve of the new year, why am I talking about this gruesome historical anecdote? It was narrated to me by an old friend of mine, a classicist, as we mulled over the months that we’re leaving behind us (admittedly we did so while pouring golden liquid down our throat – but at least ours was the spirit, not the metal type). “This was a year which saw the plague of avarice,” said the friend. “It’s the year when extreme greed for material gain, festered and spread.”
Perhaps this is 2017 in a nutshell. To my mind, it’s been the year when principles were trampled upon in exchange for monies; when avarice not only seeped in the very core of our make-up, but was crowned.
We are now in a pitiful situation where our country leaders have a very open tolerance attitude to corruption; where they all excel in vying to be ‘positive’ even if it means ignoring or thwarting the truth.
Singing karaoke or having tattoos done in clubhouses in London is what our positive leaders do these days.
Our leaders excel in vying to be ‘positive’ even if it means ignoring or thwarting the truth
As a friend said: “I feel like I’m an expat in my own country.” Another one said: “I feel like my home has been taken over by squatters.”
However, I am aware that not everyone shares this hopelessness, this sadness and this frustration. I am aware that there are different ‘worlds’ in the same country – or perhaps there are different worlds on the same planet – because it is not a phenomenon common only to Malta.
Last week, Alan Scherstuhl, a film writer, posted on Twitter a screen shot of a handwritten letter. It was a reply to an invitation to his parent’s 50th wedding anniversary from their oldest friends: “Sorry we cannot attend your party. I have nothing in common with liberals. We live in a different world, ethics and morals and I would not be comfortable.”
As Brigid Delaney in The Guardian said last week: “It is one thing to spend the night at a dinner party in 2007 arguing with your friends about the Gulf War if none of you are in the Gulf War or know anyone who is fighting... But politics in 2017 is personal, and the anger is real.”
What are we meant to do as of tomorrow, a brand new year, to get out of this helpless situation and merge these different worlds and realities that we are living?
I do not know. I suppose we can detach ourselves from politics, but as citizens of the country, and of the world, it is our duty to follow and ensure that we won’t leave a mess for our children.So I’ve come to the conclusion that 2018 is calling us to be sharp and observant and alert to any of its calls for a fight for justice.
My classicist friend quite possibly has the answer. It is his tradition to bring over a Christmas box, which is full of oranges, tangerines and grapefruit, a bottle of whisky, and a book or two. He always inscribes the books, and this year, in his scrawny fountain-penned handwriting, he scribbled: “For only in the wonders of imagination do we find escape from the ugliness of need.”
In 2018, while fighting for justice, may we find solace in books and paintings, in art and culture, in theatre shows and music.
• Might I end with one last recommendation for 2017? Try and get hold of the book Invicta: The Life and Work of Daphne Caruana Galizia by Pertinent Press. All book profits will go to Dar Merħba Bik, which helps victims of domestic abuse.
Read it and put it on your kitchen bookshelf as a constant inspiration of a woman who never gave up, come what may.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @krischetcuti