This is what we are

In any election campaign there is usually a game-changing moment – a statement, an incident, even (in some cases) a facial expression – that seals the result long before the first vote is cast.

In the Spring hunting referendum, that turning point can be homed into with mathematical precision. It was the moment Prime Minister Joseph Muscat accused Opposition leader Simon Busuttil of secretly “working to achieve a ‘No’ victory” behind the scenes.

It would, I suppose, be naïve to assume that any referendum in Malta, on any topic, would ever be truly free from the shackles of political tribalism. It is like an unspoken force that shapes this country’s every decision almost through the power of instinct. So even if Joseph Muscat hadn’t made that statement, the simple fact that the two party leaders’ voting intentions were known had already coloured this referendum with the usual, unavoidable splashes of red and blue.

And there were also (inevitably) other factors at work. Looking at the voting patterns district by district, it emerges with enormous clarity that the spring hunting issue itself – the issue we all wailed and sobbed and preached about for the last eight or so weeks – is quite simply not looked at from the same perspective by a large majority of people. I say ‘large majority’ not because of the actual victory margin itself (estimated at 50.8% at the time of writing), but because the districts where voter turn-out was lowest were also the districts least associated with hunting.

People might call that ‘apathy’, but I’m not at all sure it’s the right word. The underlying implication is that all the people from non-rural areas who stayed at home were generally against spring hunting… but didn’t feel strongly enough about it to vote. That is however an assumption. It could just as easily mean that those people simply couldn’t give a toss about birds… couldn’t see why some of us (myself included) were making such a fuss in the first place… and quietly waited for the whole non-issue to blow over.

This in turn means that the perspective of the ‘No’ camp has to be revisited. All along it has been assumed that the anti-spring hunting lobby voiced the thoughts of a silent majority. We now know that it doesn’t. I hate to say it, but the referendum result cuts us all down to size. It exposes our own delusions about who we really are.

Nor did it help much that the entire campaign had been tinted with an unmistakable whiff of ‘us’ against ‘them’ at a level which transcends party politics. There was evidence of a backlash against the liberal use of stereotypes to define hunters (and by extension, their families and friends) as a troop of primordial baboons. It felt too much like an organised strategy of belittling and humiliating others. You don’t even have to be a baboon to take offence: it is offensive to common decency. And even if the actual SHout campaign was careful to avoid using this strategy, the sheer pervasiveness of jeers and insults on the social media may have fostered resentment and generated sympathy for the hunters… transforming the referendum into instant ‘payback time’.

But sifting through the wreckage, as it were, there is also evidence that the result was ultimately forged by party politics. Previous polls had indicated a slight majority for the ‘NO’ camp – which has to be seen in the context of a large percentage of ‘unknowns’ – and the first clear indication of a turn-around occurred precisely after Joseph Muscat muscled his way into the debate by subliminally associating Busuttil with ‘No’. That single moment inexorably shifted the entire landscape.

Joseph Muscat can deny all he likes that he ‘involved himself in this campaign’. He did, and with great deliberation and intent. There is a difference between declaring one’s voting intentions – as both party leaders had done -  and deliberately skewing an electoral process to reflect the result you want to achieve. Muscat knowingly and willingly turned this referendum into a straight choice between Nationalist and Labour, at a time when Labour represents 56% of the population. It was the equivalent of picking up a shotgun and blasting the actual issue itself – spring hunting – clean out of the sky.

And having made his calculated statement, he didn’t have to say anything else. The wheels were set in motion. A clear message had been sent out, and duly picked up by the antennae of every loyal supporter in every town and village. ‘No’ would be a feather (ahem) in Busuttil’s cap, and a discomfiture for Joseph Muscat. ‘Yes’ would be a major victory for Muscat, and an awkward embarrassment for Simon Busuttil. And that was it. The fate of migratory birds over Malta in spring was sealed.

Moreover, Muscat’s statement was simply untrue. There was no evidence whatsoever of anyone from the Nationalist camp urging a ‘NO’ vote. Busuttil only told us he was going to vote ‘Yes’ – which, until Muscat his spanner into the works, had more or less neutralised the issue from a partisan perspective – but that was the full extent of his involvement in this campaign. With hindsight, this seems a little strange. The PN shouted itself hoarse about every sparrow-fart of an issue that arose in the last three weeks – the interconnector, the Gozo revelations, the price of oil, the price of pastizzi, you name it – but on this one topic, so dear to so many of his own supporters, the silence emanating from the Stamperija was almost eerie.

But this only makes Muscat’s insinuation that much more despicable. It was a blatant fabrication, entirely concocted with the specific intention of shifting the battleground away from the issue itself, and towards the playing field he himself feels most comfortable in. And as long as our Prime Minister is comfortable, who are the rest of us to argue?

Having said all this: Joseph Muscat is also a politician, and as such cares only about one thing. Power. Judged only by that yardstick, it was a formidable move. Frightening, in fact. With a single sentence he flexed his considerable political muscle, and the results are there for all to see. Joseph Muscat can singlehandedly guide the course of electoral direction in this country. His own word is enough to sway the result. And through the deceitful logic of his earlier declaration – i.e., that Busuttil was hoping for a ‘No’ victory – he has also engineered the opposite scenario for Busuttil. If true, the referendum result eclipses the hope that the opposition leader can wield a political firepower comparable to Muscat’s. So Muscat has both aggrandised himself to colossal proportions, and dwarfed his adversary to the level of a microscopic organism. He smashed his opponents to atoms, and the people he pissed off as a result were never going to vote for him anyway.

Hard to conceptualise a more emphatic, all-encompassing political victory than that. At this rate, he may wish to re-engage Renzo Piano to redesign the Parliament building, so that his head might actually fit through the door.

As for Busuttil… well, I don’t believe for a second he was in any way working for the ‘NO’, so the result itself does not (as Muscat tried to insinuate) come across as a direct slap in the face. More like a subliminal kick in the nuts, I would say. And it must have hurt, too. I have just glanced at his Facebook page and even I winced at some of the comments there. Ah well. Nothing we didn’t see coming. It was obvious that a Yes victory would deeply disappoint a vast number of Nationalists… but for historical/political/whatever reasons, the PN has always been trapped in a situation where it has no option but to piss off its own support-base.

Busuttil will now be regarded as the man who helped achieve the final, irrevocable destruction of a beautiful dream. How can that be considered as anything but a dismal, stinging defeat?

As things stand, the only people apart from Joseph Muscat who have genuine reason to rejoice are the hunters themselves. Fair play to them. Viewed dispassionately (and I admit it’s hard… it’s oh, so hard…) their victory was actually colossal and monumental. Just look at how much they had officially stacked against them. The media, local celebrities, judges, lawyers, international public opinion, Brian May, the tut-tutting of the educated and the well-to-do... and they shat on all of us. Best of all for them, this result seals the issue indefinitely, or at least for the foreseeable future. No other avenues left, except to grit one’s teeth and get used to the fact that we live in a country which enjoys killing birds as they are trying to breed.

Above all, however, this was a victory for Malta’s political divide. It was a stark reminder of the extent to which our ancestral, feudal, internecine hatred has poisoned this country… to the effect that even birds die from exposure to it. You can argue all you like, you can substantiate your arguments with as many facts and figures as you like… but when push comes to shove, the only dynamic that actually counts is tribal party allegiance. And who can we blame for that? Joseph Muscat? Simon Busuttil? They did not create this divide… though they are certainly aren’t helping to patch it up either.

No, the only people who can take full credit for our political duopoly, and the way it automatically skews all issues and banished all rationality, are the people who so tirelessly keep it alive. Ourselves, with our besotted fixation that ‘we’ are better than ‘them’; and our insistence on not passing up an opportunity to say so in public.

Ultimately, then, this referendum was a direct reflection of who we are.