It’s good to be the President

I could almost hate Mel Brooks for what he did to my appreciation of world history. Thanks to him, I can no longer read or even think about the French Revolution without those words drifting back to me from the Alhambra cinema sometime in the late 1980s.

“It’s good to be the King”.

The film was ‘History of the World Part One’, and Brooks played Louis XVI on the eve of his decapitation. I didn’t get the irony at the time. Good to be king? Oh, absolutely. Especially when ascending towards the guillotine to the jeers of an angry mob...

But still, even without knowledge of how the story ended – for Louis XVI, anyway – you can still appreciate the power of those words. Yes, of course it’s good to be the King. Of course it’s good to have unlimited power, without any of the responsibility that should go with it. So good, in fact, that others will invariably get jealous, and eventually wrest all that power and prestige for themselves through violence. At which point the cycle starts all over again.

Well, the events of this week have amply demonstrated that it is not only 18th century French monarchs who considered themselves plenipotentiary and appointed by Divine decree and, therefore, unanswerable to any common mortal. Presidents of the Maltese Republic, past and present, have likewise all behaved in exactly the same way. It’s good to be the President. For one thing, there is a legal impediment to actually being criticised (which, let’s face it, is kind of nice); and much more importantly, Presidents seem to also think they are free to simply disregard all the laws of the land… starting with the Constitution, of which the same President is supposed to be custodian.

By now you will surely have heard that the Civil Unions law has been effectively short-circuited by President George Abela’s pre-emptive refusal to sign the bill. That’s right: the proposed law (approved by parliament and, implicitly, by the electorate last March) conflicts with President Abela’s much vaunted moral principles. The man who once candidly informed us that he “can’t be everybody’s President” has now decided to arbitrarily lengthen the list of minorities to be excluded from his Presidency. Having already made it abundantly clear that he is only the President of Malta’s Catholic community – which incidentally means that he is not my President, nor President of the many other non-Catholic citizens of the Maltese republic – he has now flatly refused to be the President of Malta’s gay community, too.

But much more significant is President George Abela’s apparent disregard for what is practically the only real Constitutional function his office actually serves. To put things bluntly, the Constitution does not make provisions to enable Presidents to simply pick and choose which articles of government legislation they approve and which they can abort on their own private initiative. If you don’t believe me, consult the document itself. Here is the relevant excerpt:

“72. (1) The power of Parliament to make laws shall be exercised by bills passed by the House of Representatives and assented to by the President.

(2) When a bill is presented to the President for assent, he shall without delay signify that he assents.

(3) A bill shall not become law unless it has been duly passed and assented to in accordance with this Constitution….”

As you can see, there is nothing that allows the President to refuse to sign a law. And given that he doesn’t actually have any other Constitutional obligations to speak of (unless you count flying off to do missionary work in Peru, at the height of a full-blown political crisis in his own country), this also means that Abela has effectively abdicated from all his legal obligations, while retaining both the title and the prestige of a President.

What does this tell us about his attitude towards the Presidency? Well, it calls to mind Mel Brooks’ take on the French monarchy in 1789. Power without responsibility. In this case, the power to simply sabotage national legislation at will – which by the way also implies supremacy over parliament: something not even the monarchs of old used to enjoy (at least, not after the Magna Carta) – but at the same time, full freedom to sidestep one’s only Constitutional duties, without facing any consequences whatsoever.

So yes, it is indeed good to be the President. Especially as, unlike Louis XVI, you also get to keep your head.

Oh, and if it’s any consolation, this perception of the Presidency is by no means limited to George Abela alone, though he has arguably taken it several steps further than any of his predecessors. In reaction to Abelas private ‘revolution’ against the present administration, two former presidents (Eddie Fenech Adami and Ugo Mifsud Bonnici) both argued that a President is well within his rights to precipitate a Constitutional crisis to safeguard his own private moral vision of the universe.

Fenech Adami even said so in no uncertain terms. As President, he effectively blocked legislation on IVF because it conflicted with his Catholic views on procreation. And he explicitly threatened to precipitate a Constitutional crisis (his words, not mine) if ever presented with a divorce bill.

But not all past Presidents reasoned the same way. I happen to remember what another former president – the late Guido de Marco – replied when asked what he would do if ever presented with a bill legalising divorce or abortion. De Marco said he would have no hesitation in signing the divorce law because (and here I paraphrase from memory): “I do not want to be the dictator of Malta”. He added, however, that he would refuse to sign the abortion bill on principle, and – a hugely important detail that seems to have escaped the notice of all other Presidents – HE WOULD RESIGN.

Well, by my count that leaves us with only one of the last four Presidents who actually understood the responsibility of the role i.e. that there is (or should be) a price to pay for a President who defies government by refusing to fulfil his only obligation at law.

The other three? “Apres moi la deluge”. The only consideration ever expressed by Abela, Eddie Fenech Adami and Carm Mifsud Bonnici was that their own conscience was paramount in all circumstances, superseding even the demands of the Constitution. Absurdly, they all seem to believe that Presidents are legally entitled to stay on in the role, even if they don’t perform the only legal function that is expected of them. In Abela’s case (and Fenech Adami’s, come to think of it) he proved successful, too. He will be allowed to stay until the end of his term, which expires next week. Everything else, including a law which was promised before the last election and eagerly anticipated by many, simply has to wait until His Maje… I mean, His Excellency has left the building.

Yes indeed. Just like a king from an old Mel Brooks movie. 

At this point I honestly don’t know what is more offensive: Abela’s presumption of moral superiority or Prime Minister Joseph Muscat’s cowardice in simply backing off with his tail between his legs. As it happens, Muscat chose not to force the issue by presenting President Abela with the bill to sign, regardless of his moral qualms. He did not call his bluff; he did not challenge Abela to specify on what legal grounds he could refuse to sign the bill, when the Constitution clearly gives him no legal leg to stand on. Instead he merely bowed to the President’s presumption, and postponed the issue until he after he steps down next Tuesday.

That’s another way of saying that Joseph Muscat kept up a long and illustrious tradition of sweeping unresolved issues under the carpet, leaving them to fester so that they can continue rearing their ugly head in future. As a result, all tomorrow’s Presidents will always be able to cite personal moral opinions as an excuse to sabotage future governments. As before, it leaves us entirely at the mercy of the private moral fantasies of people who seem to genuinely believe that they have a God-given right to shovel those fantasies down our collective throats.

And there are indications that the situation may compound itself further, too. Shortly after George Abela refused to ratify the civil union’s bill, he ended his presidency with a plea for Constitutional reform to give ‘more autonomy’ to the President.

Because that’s precisely what’s needed right now, isn’t it? A Constitutional reform to grant the President even greater decision-making facilities, with even fewer strings attached. More power, less responsibility. The automatic ability to have the last say on matters decided by a Parliament that – unlike his own office  – is directly elected by the people of the Republic; and of course, the ability to place his own moral stamp on proceedings, even if the electorate votes otherwise. In brief, a return to the good old pre-enlightenment days when it really was ‘good to be the King’.

So yes, President Abela, whatever you say. Your wish is our command. Meanwhile, are there any other privileges and powers you’d like us to include in the Constitution while you’re at it? Mastery over the known universe, perhaps?

On one thing, however, I must concede that Abela is right. A Constitutional reform is indeed required; and the impasse concerning the civil unions bill has graphically illustrated precisely what needs to be reformed. Seeing how this issue alone has exposed the sheer toothlessness of government when faced with an unconstitutional challenge to its authority – unable to take any action at all, other than to sheepishly wait in the wings until the source of the problem simply goes away on its own – it has become painfully apparent to everyone that the Constitution simply fails to address the crucial question of what happens when Presidents defy governments. There is no indication whatsoever of what procedures should kick in when a President refuses to approve a law, as he is bound to do by the same Constitution.

Isn’t it time we closed up this loophole once and for all? Or shall we just wait for the next time a President suddenly decides to develop a ‘crisis of conscience’ that permits him or her to hamstring governments, and to place his or her own moral convictions above and beyond the entire democratic process, in which case, we’ll all just pretend not to notice until that President’s term expires?

No prizes for guessing the correct answer…