A grand day out
Dalwaqt jaqa l-gvern, Sharon. Lil huk Andy Ellul naghmluh magistrat.
There isn’t much to do in Malta on a Sunday afternoon.
You can go to Ta’ Qali and sit with a thousand other noisy people. Or you can go to Buskett and sit in your car with a Thermos flask and sandwiches.
You can watch a film or go to Bay Street.
You can sit out at a coffee shop in Sliema with a convoy-load of people you have never seen before and never wish to see again.
You can walk round deserted Valletta or fight for a table at Mdina’s endlessly popular coffee shop on the bastions. Or you can go for a drive and get caught in the endless snaking traffic between the Rabat road and Bugibba.
So when Tony Zarb calls you to a mass demonstration down Republic Street, from the gate to the city to the seat of power, you think to yourself that you majtezwel. You put on your best track-suit, leave the political-party scarves and banners at home, buy some imqaret on the way in, in case hunger strikes when you’re halfway to Palace Square and you can’t get through the crush to the espresso counter at Café Cordina, and join in the fun, singing songs and shouting taunts like a night out at the Christmas pantomime.
“He’s right behind you!” “Gonzi, assassin tal-Maltin!”
Of course, the downside is that you then have to listen to speeches of untold boredom, when what you really want to do is burst through the palace gates with your pitchfork and impale a couple of MPs on it.
To alleviate some of the tedium while John Bencini and Tony Zarb are banging on, your uncle and your older brothers amuse you with anecdotes of the good old days when a call to demonstrate in Valletta meant you could go home having done all your Christmas shopping for free, and with no need even to go inside the shops to do it.
Your uncle and brothers run out of good-times stories and you tune back in and discover that Tony Zarb is still rabble-rousing, tanked up on chocolates and doughnuts and riding high on a sugar rush.
Now he’s calling the elected representatives of those people who don’t want to pay for the water and electricity consumption of others ‘traitors’ because they don’t plan to vote the same way as the elected representatives of those who want others to pay for what they themselves use.
You sit and you wonder how, if everybody gets his water and electricity for less than it costs, who’s going to pay for it.
You turn to your uncle, who is still reminiscing about smashing shop-windows with crowbars filched from the dry docks, and you ask him. Big mistake: he tells you that the government will pay, of course, and when you ask him where the government’s money comes from, he shrugs and he says that it’s not his problem and that there are always is-sinjuri and tal-bizniz and dawk li jaghmlu flus minn fuq iz-zghir who can be relied upon to pay for what is consumed by the ‘mittelkless’.
This is a sector of society to which Joseph Muscat has convinced your uncle he now belongs because he owns a car, lives in a maisonette with a garage, holds down a desk-job, goes out for a steak on a Saturday night (except that now he can afford only pizza) and sometimes spends a few days in Gozo.
You pack up and go home, and the next day you’re back again – same time, same place and same union leaders.
This time, everyone is very excited because the government is going to fall and tomorrow Joseph Muscat will be installed in the Auberge de Castille. In fact, Mrs Muscat is a little delayed at home, steaming the creases out of her silver dress, which she plans to reuse to confirm her status as somebody who cares about the environment while also being on friendly terms with gays and the occasional African.
You look to the left and see your aunt checking the time on her mobile telephone and asking the people next to her how much longer this might take and exactly when is the government going to fall, because she’s left a leg of pork in the oven and she’s worried it’s going to over-brown.
The sky darkens, the MPs have all entered the palace to shouts of ‘tradituri’ and ‘assassini’, and now there’s nothing much else to do except look at Tony Zarb – and there’s a lot of him – and wait.
John Bencini has left in a huff because the shouting has got a little out of hand. (“Ajma, x’jahseb li hu!”), but our Tony has stuck it out, braving the taunts and insults flung at MPs, a courageous foot-soldier for the cause of those who want things without paying for them.
Like your aunt, he appears to be counting the seconds until the government falls. You expect him to call for five minutes of silence so that everyone can hear the crash when it comes.
Nothing happens.
Parliament votes, all the MPs come out again to some more shouting, and then….what? Your drop the remains of your imqaret, plastic bottles and paper-bags where you’re standing and you turn round and go home. You hear your aunt say to no one in particular: “Daqshekk biss?” Somehow, she had been convinced that Joseph Muscat had entered the building as leader of the opposition but would emerge as prime minister.
Tony Zarb heads off to a nearby café, carefully avoiding being aggredit by a disgruntled union member and leaving that to Gejtu Mercieca instead, to raise his flagging blood-sugar levels and to plot his next move with fellow union officials after this disappointing debacle.
You hear him mutter as he passes by you that he expected one of the PN backbenchers to vote against the government and bring the house down. Your uncle, who may have smashed shop-windows but is a bit brighter than your aunt, snorts with derision.
Later on that night, Tony Zarb materialises just before the closing credits of BondiPlus to explain that this is exactly what he had hoped for – while Charles Mangion, who is probably more perceptive, says that nobody on his side of the fence was under any illusion that the vote wouldn’t go through.
You switch off the television, make yourself a cup of strong tea, and go to bed.
From now on, the only protesting and demonstrating you’re going to do on Sunday afternoons is at home in front of your television. At least, there you can wear a Labour scarf and shout all the obscenities you please without having John Bencini stalk off in a huff.
This article was published in The Malta Independent yesterday.
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Daphne, on Sunday afternoon there is the English Premier League on TV. Or if otherwise inclined there is also Italy’s Serie ‘A’. Even if you’re not into footie it’s always better than joining those goons in Valletta.
Shouldn’t the ‘work’ (for want of a better word) that Tony Zarb is doing be done by the president of the union?
Has Andy already been around for seven years?
Andy Ellul, Vincenso de Mel, Consuelo Pilar… who else will be appointed magistrate or judge? Pawlu Lia?
No. Neither Andy Ellul nor Vincent Micallef have been around for seven years. Not that that matters.They’ll never accept that appointment just yet. It’s way too early in the day. And you can bet your bottom dollar on Pawlu Lia being appointed judge.
I was referring to Vincenso de Mel – who is not Vincent Micallef… but somebody else…
This article is like a red wine that has been left to mature to the exact point. Every paragraph made me burst into laughter.
Prime time TV: Charles Mangion’s cool dismissal of Labour’s intention to topple the government, as well as Gino Cauchi’s frowning on One’s TX when a similar subject was discussed.
The only thing that the mittelklass will sorely miss while protesting in front of television at home are the imqaret.
I. M. Beck’s column in The Times today:
“While on the subject of 1984, I’m sure Mr George Orwell is proud of his worthy successors at Super One, who after quite blatantly, unabashedly and unequivocally harassing Mrs Daphne Caruana Galizia and her sister last week in Republic Street, Valletta, promptly scurried to the cops ‘cusing the two of harassing them because a handbag was put in front of a lens and a pointed question asked of them. With such standards of make-believe in evidence, the Institute of Maltese Journalists should mint a special award for Super One: they can ask the Commissioner of Police to present it, since the police appear to have become quite the heroes of a certain genre of journalist.”
Well said.
Good title. Very Marxist. We’ll soon have a night at the opera. Roof or no roof.
This would be great for an English composition!
There is no doubt that in three years’ time the PL will win the general election. After 25 years in opposition the odds are heavily stacked in its favour. Imagine the huge disappointment in the Labour ranks if by chance, perhaps a small margin, they had to lose it again. Unbearable thought.
What is unbearable, in my view, is that the election would be won by a party not yet ready to govern, with no real and concrete plan. The knowledge of certain victory has made Labour complacent.
But the Nationalist Party needs – for its own benefit and the sake of the country – to go into opposition and reform itself. It cannot do this while in government. As history has amply shown us, no party has ever really managed a reform while in government.
So when to comes to choice, the Maltese people lie squarely between a rock and a hard place. They will have to choose between an exhausted party which is better at the job of government than its opponents are, and a ‘fresh’ party which has no idea how to run the country.
The Labour Party keeps painting itself into a corner by making promises that it can’t keep. This has happened before, and it has succeeded in securing electoral victories. It will happen again.
Everyone should choose the party that can run the country – do we have to go back to 1971?
Erskinemay’s arguments are exactly the same as those presented by the MLP prior to the 1971 election. The Labour won and we are still reaping the “rewards” of that bad decision taken by the voters.
Excuse me Rover, I cannot forget the two long years 1996-1998 of Labour’s rule. Don’t try telling me that Dr Alfred Sant was a Nationalist, or that it was business as usual after his defeat in 1998.
We were out of the EU because of the MLP. We had CET which did not collect any taxes and the economy was dormant while other economies were flourishing.
If you subtract 1998 from 2013, it works out to be 15 years not 25 years for the Labour Party in opposition. In Japan the Opposition party was there for 50 long years.
I quite agree with you. 1996-1998 were indeed long years but also non-years as nothing of any substance happened. So I disregarded them in my calculation.
That our application to join the EU was derailed is also true and therefore our entry delayed.
The point is that Labour have more than an even chance of being elected by default, whether they deserve it or not. This is not to say that we are going to roll over and give up but that the PL is exposed for what it is at every occasion. That’s why supporting Daphne and her crystal-clear writing is so important.
You leave me without words, Rover: “Nothing of any substance.”
Now you build a three-storey building in three months after getting permits and excavating and building the foundations, then I come along when you are nearly finished and demolish it in three days.
Then you start rebuilding for another two months. Should you say that it took you five months to construct this building without mentioning what I did to you?
Must be quite distressing for the sorry bunch who were already thinking about fresh elections. Is it possible that they still cannot accept the “unexpected” defeat at the last election, so much that they attempt to “grease” government MPs into voting against the government they represent?
This is photography in writing. Vera prosit. Haqqek l-ikbar premju fil- letteratura. Honestly. Keep the good work up please. Thanks.
Dieci e lode.
Daphne, you’re a devil but you’re f**kin’ great!
Why on earth did Lou Bondi accept a very tardy Tony Zarb? I am quite sure that Dr. Mangion had more pressing and serious things to do, but he arrived in good time regardless.
The insults ‘tradituri’ and ‘assassini’ are more appropriate for those who ran our lives pre-1987.
Nice essay, although there certainly is more to do in Malta on a Sunday afternoon.
There isn’t you know…
Looking at the photo makes me wretch. Two persons who fought tooth and nail to keep us out of the EU with their blatant lies and disingenousness, falsity, insincerity and unashamed dishonesty now benefitting from the membership that they fought so much against. Who in their right mind could trust Joseph Muscat to govern the country? It would be madness.
Even worse (almost nightmarish) scenario: Dr Muscat is away in Brussels taking part in Council meetings, AND THE COUNTRY IS RUN BY … ANGLU FARRUGIA. …
God forbid!
I’ve seen Sharon running around with a blue Z3, Wonder who owns it? Please can you tell us more, Daphne.
[Daphne – Nothing to say. This country is being over-run by CHAVS.]
The Maltese electorate will be asking itself, come next elections:
DO WE WANT ANDY ELLUL AND VINCENSO DE MEL APPOINTED MAGISTRATES?
DO WE WANT CONSUELO PILAR AND PAWLU LIA APPOINTED JUDGES?
DO WE FEEL COMFORTABLE HAVING OUR SUITS DECIDED BY SUCH PEOPLE?
The Maltese electorate will not, perhaps regrettably, be asking itself any questions of the sort…what the Maltese electorate will do is to probably take the bait of the most extravagant, outrageous and outlandish proposals, hook, line and sinker!
That is why these questions have to be asked, repeatedly, Perhaps they’ll sink in.
Who’s the fat guy who’s always with Sharon?
If you are not feeling the pinch of the electricity bills I am. And with just my salary and a family of 3 children it’s hard to get by. If all of you are earning enough not to feel it good for you. But please don’t imagine that all of us out there have the same perks and salaries. When did it become sinful to protest? The Greeks are protesting too remember.
For goodness sakes, we are all feeling the pinch. The difference is some of us face reality and know that we can’t keep being subsidised for ever. Just cut down on all your wastage (like not leaving electronic equipment on stand-by) and you will hardly notice the difference!
If you just take a good look around, switch off the unnecessary equipment (including computers, on at night to download music and films – on the average a desktop computer utilises 1 unit of elctricity every 2 hours), then you should go below the limita t which the discounts come into play. With the discounts, there is hardly any difference in the residentail electricity bills when compared to the previous bills.
And if you really believe that Joseph Muscat has a magic wand that can reduce these bills wihtout someone else (i.e. me) paying for your wastage, then you believe in Peter Pan, fairies and elves. Just remember, he (Joseph Muscat) has still not given one concete idea how he intends tackling the energy issue.
t.bona – find some part time job. Others do so instead of lamenting or blurring. If you’re not capable of doing so, you should not have married or brought up a family, like others do. That’s why the PN is all for our children’s education. So that the new generation won’t be quitters like you. Today you have to study and work like in the whole rest of the world.
Price of borza mqaret – 1 euro (or whatever)
The look on Maltova Baby’s face while reading this oeuvre – priceless!
You rock, Daph!
The fat guy is the owner of the Z3.
[Daphne – Does the fat man have a name?]
Daphne
Doos puwan for this article, really.
So amusing and so true.
Tony, tiktibx tqil ghax l-esperti tal-lingwi li jizzattu f’dan il-blog ma fehmux sentenza fit-Times ghax kellha comma nieqsa. Ahseb u ara kemm sa jifhmu din tieghek.
Tistghu intom li tippretendu li intom xi grad oghla mill-maggoranza tan-nies, tghidulna x’toqghodu taghmlu nhar ta’ Hadd wara nofs inhar?
Spot on analysis. 10/10. I cannot believe that even union leaders can be so naive. But then 50% of the electorate is naive, so it is no great surprise. This 50% must include thousands churned out by the university since 1987 with degrees of sorts. Is it possible that this one of ours is actually a university? Are students being trained to think? Judging by the results over 23 years I would say a glorified polytechnic. Z3? 2000 euros gets you one in the UK. Pathetic!
A Pulitzer for Daphne. NOW!
Banquo, I’m really curious now … who is Vincenzo de Mel?
Are you asking me for his name and surname?
OK – one hint: he has an office in Saint Paul’s Bay…
…. that was great…. hilarious … prosit