Four years ago, the Nationalist Party was a shambles. The party had just been dealt the worst defeat in Maltese political history. Despite several reasons being given for the result, it all boiled down to one major issue – the party was in an existential crisis. What, really, did the PN stand for? The party faithful were disjointed, demoralised, broken.

Only one man believed.

Simon Busuttil was elected as PN leader a few months after the resounding defeat. Busuttil of MEP fame; Busuttil who had played a pivotal role in convincing the nation to join the European Union. But many weren’t too convinced this time round – they felt he was too green to lead, too soft-spoken to match the Prime Minister pound for pound; too “Europeanised” to navigate his way through the Maltese political arena. Nobody gave him a chance. Besides, Labour’s victory was large enough to give it two consecutive terms at least. Busuttil was just a scapegoat until a better and stronger leader came along, right?

But he believed.

He began implementing the sorely needed changes within the party’s structures, focusing mainly on the financial mess left behind. The fast-sinking ship had to be mended to stop it from taking on more water, all the while trying to reinvent itself as an attractive alternative government. But tough decisions had to be taken, at the cost of alienating even more people. The party’s popularity was at its lowest ever.

But he still believed.

The first real test came at the MEP elections, when, against all odds, PN snatched its third MEP seat for the first time. While some perceived this result as a fluke – Labour had still won by a resounding majority in terms of votes – on paper, it was three all, a tie. That’s all that mattered, really.

A few people started to believe.

Then came the 2015 local council elections, and again, nobody was expecting much. But once the votes came in, more than a few eyebrows were raised. PN had exceeded its own expectations, cutting the deficit on several Labour-leaning localities while preserving its majority in all its strongholds. The gap between both parties had been halved within two years. What was going on? This wasn’t on the script.

The campaign has been marked by the contrast between a panicked, aggressive and resentful Joseph Muscat and a strong, positive and confident Simon Busuttil

More people started to believe.

When Joseph Muscat called the snap election on May 1, the general sensation was that the announcement had caught the Opposition unawares and ill-prepared. What could PN do, after all, with an evidently inferior budget, to compete against the well-oiled (and well-funded) Labour campaign?

Quite a lot, it seems. For the entire campaign has been marked by the contrast between a panicked, aggressive and resentful Muscat and a strong, positive and confident Busuttil. Never has the difference between the two been more evident than on Friday’s Xarabank. While Busuttil looked the viewer in the eye to convince him that he really is the man to lead us out of this mess, the Prime Minister was busy hurling insults and attempting to ridicule his opponent’s sweaty hands.

Busuttil often refers to when he successfully completed the Malta half marathon, and I feel that no story is more apt to describe him. A marathon runner knows of his hard task ahead, yet he does it without much ado. He is not the most famous of athletes, but is well known for his stamina and resolve. The key to success is not speed, but consistency. And Busuttil possesses these qualities – qualities which have propelled him to the finishing line, despite all the hurdles along the way, with a fighting chance of winning.

Muscat is no marathon runner. He has no such qualities. To the contrary, I like to compare Muscat to a narcissistic sprinter, who, thinking of himself as an omnipotent athlete, attempts the marathon too. Cheered on by the crowd, he gets off to a flying start, way ahead of his opponent. Nothing can go wrong, he thinks. But he has seriously underestimated how tough a marathon is. He mistakenly thought that he could keep his blistering pace the entire way, but he can’t. He’s running out of breath; his legs are failing him. The finishing line is close but his opponent is catching up on him, and how.

Now everyone believes.

Now the crowd is with Busuttil, it cheers him on. Perhaps too busy alienated by his opponent before, they now appreciate and understand just how honestly he sweated. His journey gives them hope. And so they encourage him to victory.

Now they’re not only all believing, but praying, praying that he is the first past the post.

Because his victory will reward consistency and determination. Hard work and sacrifice over short-term gain.

Because his victory will serve as an inspiration to them all.

Because his victory will be theirs.

Karl Tanti is a lawyer.