Casualties of war

There must be a bug going round. An ugly virus called 'nationalism' which has now infected practically all levels of public life - including, believe it or not, the previously unheard-of Junior Eurovision Song Contest.

Suddenly, it seems that not even 11-year-old girls are immune to finding themselves catapulted onto centre-stage of an endless and tiring debate on what constitutes the 'Maltese Republic'... and, by extension, who should be eligible or ineligible for its national honours (or, for that matter, its citizenship). 

At which point we should really ask ourselves: is this a normal way for a country to behave? Is it normal for a country to even notice when a national award makes a break with tradition, and actually goes to someone who isn't a thoroughbred political party warhorse for a change? And above all: it is normal for people to tear into an 11-year-old girl for the grave crime of representing Malta in an international singing contest... and actually winning?

Well, it certainly isn't normal anywhere else, let me tell you. The United Kingdom's family of national honours is the very pompously-named 'Order of the British Empire' (which, like our 'Gieh ir-Repubblika', also comes in a wide variety of different flavours: there are Knights, Commanders, Knight-Commanders, Companions, Honorary Companions, etc... a little like World of Warcraft really, only much less addictive).

And just like Malta's top dog awards, there are greater and lesser categories of award. I point this out because it is evident from reactions to Gaia Cauchi's nomination that most people (including, it would seem, the Prime Minister) thought that, like Highlander, there can only be one 'Gieh Ir-repubblika' award: forgetting all the lesser categories that have existed for years.

In any case, at a cursory glance the list of Britain's OBE recipients - even in the highest categories - could easily be mistaken for the Top 500 Hit Parade. Paul McCartney, Elton John, Roger Daltrey, Kylie Minogue, Mick Jagger... they're all there, honoured by their country (or by another country, in Kylie's case) for the grand achievement of having scored successive chart-topping smash hits, and having sold zillions upon zillions of records.

Does anyone in the UK care? Do people loudly proclaim the decline in standards of the British Empire - what's left of it, at any rate - because its national honours go to pop stars explicitly on the basis of their commercial success? I don't think so. And to be honest I didn't think we cared in Malta either, until the events of this week forced a sudden rethink.

On Tuesday - following an incredible outburst of online malice directed at Gaia Cauchi: even if couched in all the usual 'this-is-not-about-the-girl-it's-about-the-principle' disclaimers - Joseph Muscat tabled in parliament a list of all Gieh ir-Repubblika recipients (in all flavours) since the awards were first dished out.

It makes for incredibly repetitive reading. The 'Honorary Companion' flavour - and that, by the way, is the real 'top honour': everything else, including the Midalja Tal-Qadi tar-Repubblika category for which Gaia herself was nominated, is secondary - has for the past 40 years been literally hogged by politicians representing only the Labour and Nationalist parties, to the complete exclusion of every other category of human being under the sun.

I kid you not. This is the full list, in chronological order: Vincent Tabone; Eddie Fenech Adami; Sir Anthony Mamo (note: the only non-politician on the list); Agatha Barbara; Dom Mintoff; Karmenu Mifsud Bonnici; Ugo Mifsud Bonnici; Alfred Sant; Guido de Marco; Lawrence Gonzi; George Abela; Joseph Muscat.

So there you have it: a complete and exhaustive list of the only people to have in any way brought honour to name of their country in the past four decades.

But of course no one ever complains about this blatant appropriation of every last gumdrop in the country's bag of sweets. Just as no one- well, almost no one - has ever really complained that the presidency of the same republic has likewise been reduced to little more than an exclusive retirement home for politicos past their sell-by date.

From this perspective, it follows logically that the country's top honour would become the equivalent of the 'gold watch' traditionally handed out upon retirement: only reserved for retired party leaders and deputy leaders. As for the rest of the Maltese population... well, don't kid yourselves. You don't even exist.

Over to the Order of National Merit now, and here the criteria can be seen to broaden slightly. Still tonnes of politicians from both sides, but occasionally you will stumble upon the likes of Prof. Oliver Friggieri, Prof. Richard England, Prof. This, Prof. That, Prof. The Other... until you get to the Midalja Tal-Qadi Tar-Repubblika category, where you encounter some rather unexpected names, like ...dum..dum...dum...dum Ira Losco and Enzo Gusman.

Ouch. Given all the objections to Gaia's nomination for the same award this week - coming even from members of the same committee that originally nominated Ira Losco - well, why did these people see nothing objectionable in awarding a slightly older girl the same honour, largely on the strength of having placed second in the 2002 Eurovision Song Contest? And why is it perfectly OK for the runner-up of an international song contest to receive this award.. but not a winner, albeit in the junior category?

More to the point: why is this previously overlooked issue now of such of earth-shattering national concern, that people - mostly people who don't seem to have ever noticed the existence of national honours before, but who suddenly think they're the most crucial things in the entire cosmos - now feel entitled, all in the name of 'patriotism', to urinate all over this poor girl's parade... questioning whether Gaia Cauchi 'deserves' anything at all, when any normal country would be singing her praises for what is by any standard an extraordinary ahievement?

Mercifully this is an easy question to answer. Because the nomination was made by Joseph Muscat, that's why. No other reason. And make no mistake the knives are out for anything Joseph Muscat says or does... regardless how many innocent bystanders get trampled underfoot in the process.

So if little girls who dream of stardom are foolish enough to get caught in the crossfire of all this lunacy, by even thinking of projecting themselves into the limelight in any way whatsoever... well, that's tough.

They become instant casualties of war, in a polticial slanging match that seems to forever find new depths of squalor to plumb.