The liberal anomaly: a 'Grajja Maltija'

An Illum survey (disclaimer: this link takes you to the paid digital paper site) shows that Nationalist voters are more likely than Labour voters to think that voting for divorce is a sin.

This tallies with other surveys showing more conservative attitudes on divorce among Nationalist voters. These surveys have exploded the myth that the average Nationalist is more liberal than the average Labourite. And a reading of Mark Vella’s anthology of short stories by Juann Mamo might help explain this anomaly.

The misconception that Nationalists tend to be more liberal is grounded in history. The PN, due to its anti-authoritarianism in the 1980s and its pro-EU vision in the 1990s, did attract support among middle-class liberals, not just those born within the traditional elites but also among those owe their status to education, rather than inherited wealth or status.

Surely some of these never felt completely at ease in this coalition, considering the PN more of a lesser evil rather than their natural home. But as Labour rendered itself unelectable, some came to regard the PN as the natural party of government. A few liberals were even co-opted in the networks of patronage.

A minority of social liberals did cling to Labour, some out of ideological conviction and some due to undying tribal loyalties.

A few, perhaps the most left-wing and Europeanised, founded Alternattiva, which despite its disappointing electoral results was a forerunner on all major political themes ranging from divorce to environmental issues to the whistleblowers’ act. AD’s challenge to the status quo did not dent the PN’s hegemonic hold on the liberal elements of the middle class.

But despite their strategic importance for the PN’s bloc, middle-class liberals were never strong enough to dominate the PN’s coalition. One cannot ignore two other important components of the PN’s hegemonic block: the traditional upper middle classes and the conservative – mainly rural – masses which formed the bulk of its support till the 1970s, when the party started evolving into a broad church opening itself up to workers and their more educated children.

The traditional upper-middle class, which owes its power and status to inherited wealth may have had its rebels, homosexuals and libertines, but it also provided leaders for both Catholic lay organizations and the Nationalist party. The rural masses were brought up in ignorance and blind loyalty to the church and the traditional elite. Back in the 1920s they were recruited by PN agents to attend ‘miters’ [meetings] to protest against “protestants, freemasons, schismatics, demons who fly in the night, sect members, the devil… and the serpent in the garden of Eden.”

The relationship between the dominant elite and the ignorant masses is brilliantly described by Juann Mamo in a collection of stories recently compiled by Mark Vella. In his unforgiving mode, Mamo does not seek to redeem the ignorance and prejudice of rich and poor alike, even if he supports legislation aimed at emancipating the poor whose ignorance and mediocrity he despised.

As a follower of Manuel Dimech (Malta’s nearest equivalent to continental republicanism and radicalism) Mamo cannot be pigeon-holed as a Labour Party founder. In fact he was more of a left-wing Striklandjan than a Labourite.

Despite the decline of agricultural rural Malta, there still exists a popular class brought up in deeply-rooted conservative values, which Mamo despised. In some ways, consumerism and the populist media have supplemented religion. While this could be eroding religious certainties, it is also perfectly possible for traditional outlooks to co-exist with consumerism and populist media.

Perhaps divorce is one of those issues where the hold of the Church on popular culture is becoming weaker. But this may well leave place to other even more dangerous forms of prejudice and insularities. This latent conservatism thrives not just among the lower classes but also among the nouveau-riches who might live opulent lifestyles but who still retain a medieval outlook to life. It also thrives among graduates whose education is purely functional and lacks any critical thinking.

Therefore in Malta one can only speak of a small but growing new middle-class which has gravitated towards the PN without being strong enough to break the dominance of the traditional elite and the dumbing-down effect of popular culture.

On the other hand, Mintoff's first steps towards a secular nation and the moral violence directed towards Labourites in the 1960s did emancipate a section of the masses from blind subservience to clericalism. In some ways he managed to give workers a first taste of political emancipation. This might explain why Labourites are more likely to support divorce.

Yet after his second victory in 1976, a distasteful package of autarky, political repression and sterile workerism diluted the progressive credentials of the Labour Party. The internalization of Mintoffian tribalism and a latent populism remains to this day a major obstacle for the party to win over discerning voters on both its right (economic liberals) and its left (social progressives).

It was a different story in the 1920s when people like Juann Mamo, who had nothing but contempt for ignorance, prejudice and superstition, felt politically represented by the Compact. The Compact represented the only moment in Maltese history were Labour formed an alliance with the more secular and open-minded elements of the upper middle class to modernize Malta.

Far from glorifying autarky, Labour and the Constitutionals believed that progress depended on Malta’s further integration within the British empire. It was a question of either “progress in empire” or the inward-looking Italianità of the elite. Truly the origins of Italianità were secular, rooted in the liberal Risorgimento of Mazzini and Garibildi. But by the 1920s these were infused with clericalism and sympathy for Franco and Mussolini.

The demise of the Striklandjani was a definite loss to Malta’s political cultural as it denied Malta an expression of middle class opposition towards right-wing obscurantism. Mabel Strickland’s blend of Catholic conservatism and imperial subservience was partly to blame for this decline. Her only long-term legacy was her advocacy of womens’ rights (at a time when they were expected to stop working after becoming mothers) and her campaign against dust pollution in Lija.

But her conservative frame of mind led her to oppose an integration project which her father would have probably supported.

The party simply disappeared after a dismal result in 1971. Yet I suspect that this Stricklandian trait has never disappeared completely from the Maltese political psyche. And perhaps the ground has never been more fertile for its resurgence.