[ANALYSIS] Franco’s last bow

Love him or hate him - and at a glance, it seems that those are the only two options left to most people - Franco Debono has undeniably enlivened and invigorated Maltese politics over the past two years.

True, he did this in a way that has also extenuated an impossible political situation, and in the process plunged the country into a prolonged period of uncertainty... but few can deny that Maltese politics has over the past two years or so experienced a dramatic sea-change as a result of his actions: evolving from the stultified, party-dominated and (let's face it) rather primitive phase we had all grown so accustomed to, into something infinitely more dynamic, unpredictable, and - in a word - exciting.

In so doing, the 37-year-old lawyer from Ghaxaq also identified and to an extent challenged what is arguably the single fundamental problem with the Maltese political scenario as it has traditionally played itself out since independence. It would not be an exaggeration to state that, until Debono started rattling Gonzi's cage just before Christmas 2011, Maltese politics had degenerated into the equivalent of a catatonic patient strapped to a life support system. Parliament had for years served ultimately only one purpose: to rubber-stamp the decisions of the party that occupied the majority of its seats. And even then, these decisions had traditionally been taken behind closed doors by the upper echelons of that party; and what little discussion ever took place was largely limited to heated exchanges across the floor.

Before the so-called 'backbencher rebellion', which (to give it its full due) saw no fewer than three government MPs defying their party whip in different ways over the past year, it was rare indeed for government MPs outside the Cabinet to ever question (still less openly oppose) legislation tabled by their own side.

Dom Mintoff's last stand in 1998 is perhaps the best-known ante-Debono example; before that you had to go all the way back to the days of Josie Muscat and Alfred Baldacchino.

As such, the usual pattern of behaviour among government officials had become almost trite in its predictability by the time Debono got himself elected (with the same 'flying colours' with which he had earlier aced his Form Two theology exams) from two districts in 2008. But even at this early stage, there were indications of possible trouble in store, for those who bothered to look.

Unconventional beginnings

In fact Debono's entire career with the PN started out in a cloud of non-conformity, and under an arguably inauspicious star. Perhaps benefiting from the PN's unusual electoral strategy of 'hiding' its well-known Cabinet ministers and other 'old faces' of the 21-year old administration, Debono's success at the polls came at the expense of established party veterans like Louis Galea and faithful foot-soldiers like Helen D'Amato: both of whom were duly trounced by a man whose name (at the time) no one had ever really heard outside of the fifth district. From the outset, then, the rise of the rebel upstart also spelt out the imminent demise of the Nationalist Party old guard.

It is also worth remembering what sort of parliamentary group Debono found himself part of as a result of his unexpected success at district level. Long before the first mutterings of discontent were heard on an increasingly unruly backbench, the impression was that of a homogenous group whose very existence served only one purpose: to see to it that the party leader's will was done at all levels... and that the party's own ethos and message would be duly transmitted, as with one voice, without any interference or contradiction.

And unaccustomed to having their authority openly questioned, party leaders on both sides have traditionally brooked no criticism whatsoever. To all intents and purposes, Alfred Sant's response to Mintoff's rebellion in 1998 was to scuttle his own government (though not before taking the battle to Mintoff's home territory, and calling him a traitor on the Cottonera waterfront). Mindful of that fateful turn of events, Gonzi has time and again admitted to having been conditioned by Sant's 'mistake'. Indeed, his entire response to his own crisis has to date been governed by only one, surprisingly anti-democratic consideration: the impulse to avoid an election at all costs, even if it meant clinging to the seat of government for its sake, without enjoying the full power that should by rights go with it.

This was the general backdrop against which the ebullient 37-year-old lawyer decided to rewrite the approved script without permission: stunning his government colleagues by walking out of parliament ahead of a crucial vote of confidence in Transport Minister Austin Gatt in December 2011, and leaving a shell-shocked Gonzi to seek refuge in the Speaker's casting vote.

Since then, Debono has repeatedly threatened to do the hitherto unthinkable, and vote against his government in a one-seat majority scenario: a threat he has to date carried out only once, with 'fatal' consequences for his colleague, former justice minister Carm Mifsud Bonnici.

The reaction by the party? Little short of hysterical. The PN's executive council moved to crush the rebellion by issuing a 'permanent interdictment' which banned the three rebels from contesting future elections with the PN... but significantly stopping short of expelling them from the party.

But even here, Debono confounded tradition by simply refusing to stick to his allotted lines. Unlike the other rebels - and unlike anything that had ever been contemplated before, in either Nationalist or Labour environments - he simply refused to take the humiliation lying down: declaring full-scale war on the government that he still technically forms part of, and at one point even threatening to take legal action against his own party.

Few people paused at the time to consider that Debono's behaviour was (towards the beginning, at any rate) entirely consistent with the way politics is traditionally done pretty much everywhere else in the European Union; and if there was any pattern of behaviour that seemed out of synch with the reality of Malta anchored in the EU, it was actually that of the governing body of the PN.

Franco the Unappeasable

That, at least, is one interpretation of the drama we all witnessed over the past few months. To be fair there is another, equally valid interpretation, according to which Debono had placed entirely unreasonable demands on his prime minister - for instance, setting the resignation of Austin Gatt as a condition for his support for the Budget: a novel and quite frankly unheard of approach to decisions affecting the nation's economic wellbeing.

And besides, Debono's own behaviour has at times been so irascible and irrepressible, that (according to this second interpretation) the party was left with literally no option but to cut him loose and try - with what success remains to be seen - and turn him into an enemy of the state.

Matters were not helped when Debono was predictably bitten by the "blogging bug": venting his personal frustrations in public in a way that seemed to open a window (as blogs so often tend to do) onto the inner workings of his own psyche.

The blogging bug

With his online outbursts ranging from the comical to the downright hysterical, it became increasingly difficult for objective observers to keep their own eye on the ball (so to speak). Often Debono's arguments - which even his sternest critics have occasionally conceded are valid - were all but drowned out by the sometimes absurd excesses of his own exuberance... such as when he branded Gonzi as "Malta's Hitler", in a blog post which he would quickly (but not quickly enough) retract.

Besides: these two apparent conflicting versions - Debono the liberator/reformer, versus Debono the unspeakable pain in the ass - are not as immediately contradictory as they may appear at first sight. Certainly one does not preclude the other: many historical reformers were by all accounts also inveterately annoying characters in real life, and there is no reason to expect Debono to be any different.

But while both versions certainly contain an element of truth, neither quite succeeds in capturing the full reality of the phenomenon that is Franco Debono.

Both omit a number of important considerations. For instance, Debono may have played his cards in the least likely way imaginable; he may have made very serious miscalculations, and through his own irascibility and unbridled egocentricity he may even have hastened his own political demise. But this doesn't mean that he never had any cards to play at all.

Likewise, it must be remembered that the extreme sanctions taken by the party came about only after numerous other attempts at appeasement had manifestly failed. And here certain contradictions start creeping into Debono's own antics.

Having accused his party of being an 'oligarchy' controlled by the same coterie to serve its own interests, Debono saw no essential contradiction in accepting both the position and salary of a 'parliamentary assistant' within the same establishment: a designation invented specifically to accommodate dissatisfied MPs like himself.

Does his acceptance of that role not make Debono himself also part of the oligarchy? And if he chose to hit out at the oligarchy regardless, wouldn't it have made more to sense to also relinquish the post?

Such considerations in themselves point towards both the strengths and weaknesses of Franco Debono's general way of doing things - which I will henceforth call the 'Debono doctrine', more to simplify matters than anything else.

The strengths include the substance of Debono's own vision and demands of the party: demands and arguments which evidently resonate among people who have traditionally voted PN, and who expected a good deal more than they actually got from the transaction.

They also include the remarkable consistency with which Debono has stuck to his guns... never wavering once from the basis of his argument (i.e., that the present government has reneged on its commitments to accountability and transparency, etc.) and never quite losing sight of the Constitutional legitimacy of his view that Maltese democracy is at best an incomplete recipe which still lacks many of its most basic ingredients.

Among the weaknesses, on the other hand, you will find the rather petty underlying motive (i.e., resentment at having been passed over for the Cabinet), and of course the inherent contradiction whereby Debono would himself benefit from government largesse, while also claiming that all the perks and privileges were exclusively distributed among a select 'inner sanctum' of GonziPN acolytes.

The Debono doctrine

From the outset, Debono's demands were couched in a number of memorable words and catchphrases that have in themselves also contributed to his growing aura of eccentricity. Again, the basic mantra remains 'accountability', 'transparency', and the principle that all should be held responsibility for their own political and professional failures.

Naturally, his critics were quick to point out that Debono failed to apply these principles to himself, when he argued that the PN was wrong to sanction him for his actions vis-a-vis Mifsud Bonnici - or in other words, that unlike Austin Gatt et al, he himself should be exempt from responsible for his own actions.

Be that as it may, the ensuing argument showcased another of his characteristics (which to be fair was not new to people who have had dealings with him in court). Unlike so many of his political peers, the man can argue. That is to say, that he can actually breathe life into an argument, rather than just shout and slam his fists on the table (which is what normally passes for argument at this level).

And he can hold his own against the most slippery of adversaries, too. Perhaps his finest moment came when he was the sole guest on Bondìplus: in a special edition that was clearly intended to crush the man's credibility, but which served instead to give him a national platform to air views and concerns which - irksome though they may be to hardboiled government apologists - are nonetheless widely shared among the broader public. 

Echoes of Debono's spirited performance on that show can still be felt all over the social media networks.

And not without good reason. His most memorable quip, "mela jien il-pappagal tieghek" (what do you take me for, your parrot?) can with hindsight be seen to serve multiple purposes. Indirectly Debono underscored what is arguably the least attractive aspect of the Nationalist administration's own modus operandi: i.e., an overwhelming tendency to dictate people's opinions, and then sit back and let ordinary citizens fight their battles for them (by repeating, parrot-like, their own propaganda).

The same remark also took the fight directly to Bondì himself: a man who has now come to physically embody the unwholesome hold of the Nationalist establishment on national broadcasting (which of course makes Lou Bondì the parrot, and not Debono at all).

But it was Debono's battle-cry of 'meritocracy' - repeated endlessly on that programme - that struck the most resonant note. Viewed against the backdrop of failed ministers who have hung on to their posts despite often outrageous fiascos... the obvious examples being the BWSC saga and the Arriva debacle, both of which were autographed 'Austin Gatt' - and projected onto a nationwide scenario whereby public appointments are often based on party allegiance, and take little note of personal merit, qualifications or desert - it was difficult to come away with the notion that the cause for complaint was entirely in Debono's imagination (the line that Lou Bondì, among others, have all along tried to make us swallow).

Either way, an honest critic will be hard-pressed to find fault with Debono's basic diagnosis of much that is institutionally wrong with our country. Few have openly rebutted Debono's calls for a judicial reform to introduce the concept of a Supreme Court, for instance; or his insistence that the office of the prosecution be independent of the police.

Elsewhere he has been proved right on at least two counts: on the need to separate justice and home affairs ministries, and the right to legal assistance during interrogation.

In the latter case, Debono found his arguments propped up by the European Court of Human Rights... which in turn signifies that the counter-argument, favoured by both former minister Tonio Borg and Mifsud Bonnici, was in fact a human rights violation.

Looking back on these and other arguments, one can only wonder why a man who made such perfect sense on purely legal matters, was made out to be insane (of all things); while the same people who claimed to have 'rescued democracy' in 1987 proved either unaware what the word actually means, or perfectly willing to retain blatantly undemocratic practices for their own arcane purposes.

Add to this the colourful, witty and occasionally poetic lapses the same Debono is so often inclined to exhibit - his habit of reciting his own Haikus in parliament, for instance, or his often memorable turns of phrase (for instance, his use of the word 'revolution' to describe the Arriva reform: which had taken us all for a massive circular ride, only to deposit us exactly where we all were before the reform even began) - and regardless of one's take on his actions and their consequences, it is impossible not to conclude that Franco Debono has injected a much-needed sense of life and colour to the otherwise drab environs of parliament.

For this, incidentally, he has been credited by none other than the Speaker of the House Dr Michael Frendo: who recently pointed out that Malta's House of Representatives has been at its most vibrant in recent months.

A rebellion too far

In the final analysis, however, the litmus test will come with tomorrow's vote on Budget 2013. In the eyes of many Nationalist supporters who secretly (and sometimes openly) sympathise with the outspoken rebel, there is a line to be drawn between holding their own government to account (something many would agree is both necessary and beneficial), and bringing it down altogether.

Even the most disgruntled and lukewarm of Nationalist supporters would express misgivings about the latter course of action; indeed the only ones who publicly support Debono in this regard, are the ones who have already declared they will not vote PN themselves... which means they are no longer Nationalists at all.

From this perspective, Debono's resolve to force early elections will almost certainly be interpreted as an act of high treason towards the party... and with the concept of party loyalty being so very deeply entrenched in the national psyche, it is difficult to envisage any scenario in which the same people who sympathise with Debono will also praise him for taking the plunge tomorrow.

But again, this tells us more about the state of Malta's political health than about Debono himself. It tells us, for instance, that party loyalty is still widely perceived to be an end unto itself; that party delegates are expected to sacrifice their own principles - if necessary even their own careers - for the 'good of the Party'... and not for the good of the country, as should surely be the case.

Ultimately, the prevailing mentality still holds that one's political allegiance must always be to one's party of choice; and when tensions arise between partisan allegiance on the one hand, and the national interest on the other, it is always partisan allegiances that trump all other considerations.

From this perspective, the same concept of 'party allegiance' suddenly assumes all the unpleasant connotations of 'The Party' as envisaged in George Orwell's 1984.

Of course it remains debatable whether Franco Debono's voting intentions tomorrow are in any way influenced by a drive to challenge this selfsame political dilemma that has underpinned Malta more or less since independence. The counter-argument is that - much like the proverbial schoolboy who cancels the football game because he was not made team captain - Debono simply intends exacting revenge for his shabby treatment by the party executive.

Even if true, however, the ultimate effect of his actions will remain the same. If he does pull the plug on GonziPN tomorrow, and even if it can be clearly demonstrated that he did so for all the wrong reasons... he would still have ultimately dealt a symbolic death-blow to the archaic notion that 'party allegiance' is the single most important characteristic of any politician.

Given that his vote tomorrow will almost certainly also be his last act as a Maltese MP, it will be cold comfort to him to know that (in spirit, at least) this places him firmly within the European mould of doing politics... and his detractors fall firmly outside that same mould.

Ultimately, the truly significant thing is that the local mould will finally have been broken... and for this reason alone, the maverick named Franco will almost certainly earn himself a small place in Maltese political history.