I was Daphne’s friend for close to 30 years. I am still her friend. It is hard to write about her in the past tense. We had planned to meet this week, as we did regularly over the years. But our next lunch is now cancelled, for good.
It is difficult to understand that she has been killed. That she is gone.
To think of that sickening, appalling scene with her car blown to pieces, with her in it.
Daphne was not a great talker. She was reserved, on her guard, almost shy. But she relaxed with small circles of trusted, long-standing friends. She would chat and linger over a meal, long afternoon coffees or a gin and tonic, then race home to meet a deadline for a newspaper or magazine.
She was so proud of her three boys, always eager to relate what they were doing as they grew up and then left the family home. She was a loyal, thoughtful friend, there for me, and for others, in difficult times. She gave honest, unflinching advice. She enjoyed beautiful objects, lovely homes, and good food.
In her blog, she had another persona. She was no angel. No holds were barred. She stepped on toes and at times went too far, but she also got plenty of sharp hits back and took them in her stride. She continued, regardless. Her blog was her turf and she was master of the game. She created it, alone, and it became her life. And her death.
Her fierce stance against corruption was rooted in the 1980s. She never forgot her sense of dread at the violence and collapse of State institutions which she witnessed as a teenager and young woman.
She remembered that time well, and talked about it. She rebelled at the thought of a return to those dark days. She wanted to live in a liberal, fair, democratic society, and was ready to fight for it.
Daphne criticised any abuse of power, wherever she spotted it. She switched seamlessly from huge corruption stories to relatively small incidents. Whether it was the abuse of a reserved parking space or a chauffeur-driven car, an undeserved position for a government crony, an incompetent official, or a network of corruption at the highest level, she slammed it. Public figures behaving or dressing inappropriately? They got it too.
Corruption within the highest institutions is only possible if society allows it to happen. It requires some collusion or complicity from society at large, the closing of eyes, shrugging of shoulders. Abuse at lower levels facilitates corruption at the top. It corrodes the fabric of society, turning the unacceptable into the acceptable, and the rule of law disintegrates.
Daphne drew strong lines between what she perceived as right and wrong. If something was out of line, she said so. She did not pull her punches.
Daphne feared the collapse of institutions, of law and order, and this was how she went about defending them.
She was as fragile and vulnerable as all of us
Where are we now? It is scary that I have not yet met a single person who believes that the police will do their job properly. Their press conference on Thursday did not inspire confidence either. People stared at their television screens in disbelief.
Daphne’s family filed an official request for the magistrate to withdraw, while in the meantime the inquiry was started, hauling up Daphne’s grieving husband Peter and son Matthew to court the next day. As the magistrate admitted when she eventually withdrew, justice must also be seen to be done. Well, that ship has sailed.
The links between the police force, the judiciary and Cabinet ministers are too close for comfort.
Daphne targeted corruption and abuse on all sides of the political and social spectrum, but her special focus was undeniably on members of the PL government.
Her stories on the Panama Papers implicated the top echelons of power, and shook the country. Her big and hard-hitting Egrant stories precipitated an early general election.
Joseph Muscat now says that he did not respond to her ‘harsh criticism’ of him.
Is he serious? Muscat used the entire Labour Party and government media machine to criticise and obstruct her. Last year his aide Glenn Bedingfield at the Auberge de Castille started a blog which incessantly vilified and demonised Daphne. Anyone associated with her, even if unrelated to her journalism, also came into his line of fire (including me).
Muscat’s Cabinet minister Chris Cardona requested the courts to freeze Daphne’s personal assets, triggering an unprecedented, spontaneous crowd-funding initiative to help her. Another minister, Konrad Mizzi, tried to force Daphne to reveal her sources, defying fundamental journalistic principles. Daphne stuck to her guns and declared she would even go to prison to defend her sources.
Some of her fellow journalists also kept up relentless attacks on Daphne. Besides the politically-motivated PL media outlets, the newspaper Malta Today demonised her almost obsessively, in an endless stream of articles. Yes, she certainly sniped at Malta Today, but nowhere like the rounds of fire she got back.
Her brutal murder, as she left home on an ordinary day, has ended her life prematurely and suddenly. She was as fragile and vulnerable as all of us. Beneath that huge, powerful, polemical, influential voice, which single-handedly took on public figures, politicians, gangs, criminals, and the entire government, there was just one strong, sharp, exceptional woman.
Thousands of people are mourning. Her friends are grieving. Her family is shattered. Rest in peace, Daphne. We will keep your light shining.
petracdingli@gmail.com