How to ‘serenely get your message across’…

Ever noticed how certain words and turns of phrase keep cropping up in similar situations? I don’t mean just the prevailing ‘slogan of the moment’ – which today happens to be ‘Shame on You’, though it might have been ‘Tort Tal-Lejber’ or ‘Hmieg Tal-Grieden’ at other times or in different contexts. 

No, the expressions I’m talking about are far more permanent in usage. They keep materialising at certain specific instances, predictable as clockwork, as if in response to some obscure Pavlovian stimulus none of us really understands. 

My only explanation is that the entire nation has somehow had the same phrasebook subliminally drilled into its subconscious through mass hypnosis. As a result, we always seem to respond to similar situations with exactly the same words.

One example of such words is… ‘serene’. And a beautiful word it is, too. Take a moment to savour its full auditory impact: even the flow and cadence of its syllables denote an instant sensation of clarity and calm. You can almost feel the muscles of your neck relax as the word rolls off your tongue…

Serene... serene… I’m so… serene…

Oops, almost dozed off there. But that’s exactly the point. ‘Serenity’ is about the last thing you’d associate with the Maltese political situation at the moment. Even a rabid dog which has just been kicked in the testicles would respond with more equanimity and grace. There is a whirling, spinning chaotic vortex of anger and hatred about Maltese politics that no longer seems even remotely in control. Politicians no longer ‘speak’… they howl and bark instead. And there is no semblance of ‘peace’ or ‘tranquillity’ ever to be observed. Absolutely everything is always a ‘calamity’, an ‘emergency’, a ‘scandal’, an ‘earthquake’ (even if much the same thing has been happening for years).

This, broadly speaking, has been the increasingly unstable backdrop of all political discussion in this country for as long as I can remember… and in recent months and weeks it has grown steadily more tense and unruly. Expecting to encounter ‘serenity’, in this context, would be a little like hoping to find virginity in a brothel. You’d be best advised to look elsewhere.

And yet, and yet… no sooner does a politician find himself under pressure on account of some scandal or other, he always becomes ‘serene’. 

Konrad Mizzi is the latest in a long list of ministers and MPs upon whom an unearthly sensation of inner peace has suddenly descended. With calls for his resignation now mounting even from within his own party, the beleaguered energy minister’s natural reaction was to assume the Lotus position, and enter a blissful state of ‘oneness with the Universe’.

And to tell us all about it, too. “I am serene,” he announced at the Labour annual general meeting, to a very peaceful and quiet roar of applause and standing ovation. And I’m so pleased for him, too. For let’s face it: nothing is of greater concern to the general public right now, than the personal inner sentiments of Konrad Mizzi. 

Never mind the fact that he is the only European minister named and shamed by the Panama Papers, and that – to date – no political responsibility has been shouldered over this sordid affair… the only important thing is that the man at the centre of the storm feels ‘serene’.

But Mizzi is not alone in reporting this inexplicable transformation in times of crisis. Before him, Michael Falzon (the Labour version) had likewise slipped into a blissful state of ‘serenity’ when engulfed by the Gaffarena scandal. Even across the political divide, Nationalist ministers had always responded to criticism by informing us of their current state of mental relaxation. I distinctly remember George Pullicino using the word ‘serene’ to describe his own sentiments, when expanding the development boundaries in 2006.

The implications are really quite fascinating. To lapse into a state of ‘serenity’, it seems, all you need to do is get yourself embroiled in a good old-fashioned political scandal. Just think of all those silly Buddhist monks, who spend their entire lifetimes in deep meditation – denying themselves all the pleasures afforded by earthly existence – to reach a state they could achieve instantly, just by opening a bank account in Panama.

And just think of all the money people spend on private psychiatric counselling in order to obtain inner peace of mind. Fools! Don’t they know that overseas trust funds in tax havens work just as well, without any of the confusing psychobabble?

There are other advantages, too. Being ‘serene’ is a wonderful way to countenance threats to your career as minister. Criticism?

Controversy? Calls for resignation? Sorry, I’m too darn relaxed at the moment to respond to any of that… now, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to carry on ‘serenely’ pretending that absolutely nothing has happened at all. 

Like a dope-smoking hippie from the 1960s might have put it while making the peace sign: “Serenity, man… chill out!” And of course, it works every time.

But let us leave Mizzi to enjoy his newfound tranquillity, and marvel at a second example of endlessly repeated catchphrases… “to get our message across”.

Unlike ‘serenity’, this one tends to be used by organisations rather than individuals… and it is by no means limited to politics, either. There was a time when it was a staple part of any interview with any local artist, musician, writer or whatnot. None of these, it seems, ever did what artists, musicians, writers or whatnots normally do anywhere else in the world… which is to produce art, music, writing and whatnot. No, they always ‘tried to get their message across’.

Interestingly, the same turn of phrase was – and still is – invariably used to describe public protests during news broadcasts. “The demonstrators bore placards to get their message across”.

Really? And there I was thinking that placards were taken to public meetings in order to swat pigeons … or maybe to bludgeon rival protestors, at a politicised ‘spontaneous demonstration’ in front of the law courts…

In any case: unsurprisingly, the most frequent (and pointless) usage occurs among political parties. Take the ‘Cedoli’ scheme, for instance: whereby the Nationalist Party is calling on the general public to lend it the entirely reasonable sum of €10,000 a pop, on the promise of 4% interest over 10 years. 

It might look like a desperate plea for financial help to you or I; but not to the PN, naturally. To the PN, it is simply a means of ‘helping us get our message across’.

Presumably, then, none of the money collected will go towards paying back a debt rumoured to be in the region of eight million (though I guess we’ll know soon enough, when the PN publishes its accounts on the self-imposed target date of 30 April). No, indeed. The PN only needs this money to ‘help get its message across’. 

Funny, though, because last I looked the PN already had a TV station, a radio station, two newspapers and numerous websites… all of which constantly churn out this ‘message’ (whatever it is supposed to be) 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Not to mention permanent representation on the Broadcasting Authority board: through which both parties get to also indirectly control TVM. 

That’s an awful lot of media to ‘help get your message across’, don’t you think? It’s certainly a lot more than an ordinary NGO would possess. Yet you don’t often see ordinary NGOs borrowing millions from the general public ‘to get their message across’. They somehow manage (or don’t) to do that with the limited means already at their disposal.

Yet the PN evidently has difficulties broadcasting its message, despite the overwhelming media advantages it has over everyone else. And obviously, it never occurred to them that maybe the problem lies with the message itself… which can scarcely even be heard through all the howling and barking.

But in a competition for the most vacuous, inane and ultimately meaningless catchphrase ever repeated, the first prize has to go to… ‘I will take the necessary action’. 

Not only is this one the single most overused one of the lot – even if limited for the most part to Prime Ministers – but it is also the most utterly pointless combination of words ever put together for a single purpose, anywhere in the world.

Maltese Prime Ministers invariably resort to this sentence sooner or later in their careers… though the specific words may have varied occasionally. In Eddie Fenech Adami’s time, it was ‘I will shoulder political responsibility’. Gonzi’s version was ‘I will take the necessary decisions’. What they all had in common, however, was that it was only ever said to camouflage the fact that no ‘action’ or ‘decision’ had been actually taken. 

In all cases, everything always just carried on precisely as it was before. Serenely…

Joseph Muscat, for instance, has been calmly harping the same tune ever since Panamagate first erupted… four whole weeks ago. Four weeks is surely ample time for any ‘necessary action’ to be taken in any circumstance… even if there was a multiplicity of choices concerning the individual actions available. 

In this case, there is only one action to be taken: the one that some senior members of Muscat’s own Cabinet now expect him to take. Even Mizzi himself momentarily stepped out of his blissful meditative state to encourage Joseph Muscat to ‘take a decision’. 
Yet Muscat has been expressing his intention to take this decision for nearly four whole weeks now… without ever taking it.
What’s stopping him, exactly? Perhaps it is the same state of blissful calm and serenity that earlier descended on Konrad Mizzi. Action? Decision? Political responsibility? Nah, sorry… I’m too darn serene to pay any attention to all the inconvenient realities that keep interrupting my meditation. So I’ll just serenely carry on pretending nothing’s happening… now: did I get my message across?’