Archive for the “Local Affairs” Category

During the course of any serious police investigation a key question that needs to be established is the motive for the crime concerned. The vast majority of all crimes are carried out for some reason or another. Crimes that are carried out without clear motive on the part of the perpetrators are more likely to involve a degree of insanity than not. Even in the event of a crime where no suspects have been immediately available for questioning, potential suspects may be identified through the establishment of likely potential motives.

Unfortunately it does not immediately appear that the Maltese authorities are seriously investigating the continuous flow of illegal immigrants to Malta and neighbouring landmasses. If the patterns that I perceive in the media’s reporting and lack of reporting are anything to go by then one might be forgiven for pointing out that the lion’s share of analysis ever carried out gravitating around the question of motive has typically centred around the collective motives of the illegal immigrants themselves.

Yes, we know that the vast majority of them have economic motives, in search of greener pastures, that a few are escaping famine and war; and that a few others are possibly escaping the law of their respective countries of origin. This is all well and good but such information is about as useful as health authorities asking restaurant-goers why they choose a particular fast food chain to dine at – it is of limited value in the context of determining the health impact of such a fast food chain.

More relevant questions would be levelled at the traffickers themselves and those who aid them. Why do they do it? Does any question really begin and end with the money that changes hands between trafficker and would-be immigrant? Are there no entities beyond these that bear a potential interest in aiding or perpetrating the inundation of southern members of the European Union with illegal immigrants?

After all, illegal immigrants could potentially be very useful if it were in one’s interests to destabilize the economy of a country or a region. If one were to, say, turn a blind eye to the issue, or even pay a tidy sum to others to turn a blind eye… and if one were to make it such that such illegal immigrants find it very hard to find legitimate work… and if one were to also be of a disposition to offer unofficial employment, especially if one were to have one’s hands in the pockets of key individuals to ensure that such an operation runs smoothly… then mighten one not only be an opportunist but also a criminal involved in high treason?

A fantastic hypothesis worthy of Hollywood perhaps, and perhaps also similarly lacking in concrete backing, but I would say that it is not complete hogwash and find it difficult to believe that the level of incompetence thus far exhibited by the nationalist government has been a complete coincidence, but then again I take many coincidences with a pinch of salt. Perhaps if they were to make a show and actually start up an investigation of any such avenues, then I might be able to swallow that past incompetence has, in fact, just been incompetence. Faced with a choice I would rather deal with honest incompetence than dishonest competence and I am sure that many others feel similarly.

It is around five o’clock in the morning and a few creatures yet stir. The cat stalks its meal with its tail twitching, a nocturnal insect skitters over the paved flooring, the ember lights of a refuse-collection truck flickering on its nightly haunt of the Paceville entertainment district. Round the corner a waitress wearily stacks table, lacking the spring in her step that she had exhibited earlier near the start of her shift. The waves gently lap up upon the beach, each one draining away between the grains of sand in anticipation of the wave to follow, oblivious to the grudged rise of the working man and woman in preparation for another day of toil for their employers’ joy.

Time creeps onwards and a solar orb peaks over the horizon. The poorly roads grow congested with sheep and hogs on wheels, the cat narrowly misses it’s demise, the insect scurries down a dark crack and a few more loads of refuse are being dumped kilometres away. The waitress steps out of the shower and lays her weary head upon her pillow. The waves pick up and crash upon the shore with more force as grains of sand dance upon their crests.

Stuffed peacocks strut their stuff, hold their heads high and squawk in between fits and starts of preening themselves in self-gratification. They screw their expression into one of disgust as they watch men in reflective yellow jackets dragging a large bin and a broom along the road before returning to their self-professed hobby of sticking their noses of questionable worth into the affairs of those who earn their living through a means other than the peddling of misery.

By our own yardstick we are living in modern times. We would like to believe that the days when social class was accentuated are long gone and yet it does persist. There is no harm in the privileged taking pleasure in his or her good fortune but harm does come of those who would partake of the relative misfortune or misery of others for the purpose of their own self-idolization.

Is the individual occupied within the service-orientated industries truly deserving of the contemptuous treatment that they sometimes have to endure at the hands of their respective employers and their clients? Are they deserving of the ever more constrictive economic and social contractions that the employing classes would impose, given half the chance? After all, many who do work would also know that an employer is far more interested in expanding upon the fixed assets of any going concern than ensuring that their labour force is well-catered for. No, the worker, it seems, is fit only for the adequate, the minimum or as close to it as one can get away with.

Is the economic identity of an individual deterministic to a degree such that the fabric of society itself participates in a social variant of the food-chain, encouraging the dog-eat-dog world, as the saying goes?

In no way do I suggest that all individuals who serve are abused within the parameters of the law, and neither do all employers partake of the chalice of their workers’ blood, but it is a plausible guess that many of each category do. Such is a sad consequence of the structures of affluence and power that presently exist, with the welfare state as collective pacifier for the purpose of retaining control of the classes of quiet desperation.

A lot of persons remember what it used to be like to be younger, to be a pint-sized kid living out their childhood in their own unique fashion. A few such persons might also remember what its like to have one chocolate or sweet too many, that feeling that cannot be described as mere fullness but rather a feeling of not ‘ever’ wanting to take another sweet again… well… until the feeling passes, that is.

Well some people who perhaps do not recall such feelings or experiences do not need to pile on the calories in search of the feeling mentioned. Every summer they get the opportunity to experience something somewhat similar practically on a weekly-basis. I do of course refer to the ‘Maltese festa’ that some think so highly of.

Now I have to admit it. Once upon a time I was utterly fascinated by fireworks, of the strange contraptions that banged and boomed and sent colourful sparkles flying in every which direction in the darkened sky. The daytime petards were never really my cup of tea but, oh well, there wasn’t much that a kid could do other than bear them. I did very much enjoy the grounded firework’s display, watching the more colourful pyrotechnics at play upon haphazardly oscillating stands affixed loosely into the ground, and occasionally wondered if one might take off. Whether fortunately or not such never happened and the child was left to wonder over the arcane secrets of the unknown that might have been.

However many years have passed since those heady days when the distant musical jingle of the ice cream van’s approach, the polishing of small fragments of calcite, the sculpting of sand upon the beach, and computer games constituted matters of importance. Likewise I have grown more weary of the acrid smoke cloud that envelopes all in the vicinity of the setting off of land-locked firework shows, I have grown more aware of the implications of the shock waves left rippling through the air by each petard set off in the heavens above, and I have since realized that there exists such a concept as opportunity cost, the concept that one’s choices in life tend to come at the expense of foregoing others – particularly in the context of having access to limited resources. Last that I heard not only is Malta a place of very limited resources but we are a nation saddled with debts.

What are we celebrating for? Is it truly necessary to have simultaneous feasts in two or more parts of the islands? Do we realize just how much we spend upon fireworks in terms of money and blood? Do fireworks ‘need’ to be an integral part of ‘every’ feast?

I do realize that this all makes me seem like a wet blanket, like others before me, but would it really be so great a hardship if the number of feasts celebrated were slashed by a factor of two or three? This way collective agreements could be made between localities to pool resources in order to present a better-planned and financed show. The quality of such shows should therefore increase and overall satisfaction garnered amongst the population ought to increase also, less jaded by the sheer repetition of the fare available.

Would it also be anathema to suggest that feasts be something more than a church, a row of stalls and food sellers, and a fireworks show? Would it not be interesting if, say, a food seller’s fare were to be subsidised through some of the funds that would otherwise have gone up in acrid smoke and flashes? After all, festivities are every bit about culinary satisfaction as the visuals and the audio.

Might it also be anathema to suggest that the production of fireworks be limited to specifically licensed zones where containment is plausible and quality assurance could be easier monitored? After all, while pretty the fireworks themselves have proven time and time again to pose a potentially lethal hazard in imperfect circumstances.

The boats continue to land upon our shores, bringing in an average of two-to-three dozen illegal immigrants per vessel. Our slightly more southerly neighbour, Lampedusa, consistently receives larger consignments of many hundreds of immigrants but as of yet we have been spared shipments in excess of a couple of hundred. Fortunately for them they have the direct support of Italy to help ease the stresses of the situation involved.

Rumours about the organized nature of the trafficking of the immigrants have been going round for ages. Such rumours were based upon the observation that the rate by which illegal immigrants have been entering have been somewhat consistent. Some persons have even coined the term of ‘the magic 27′, referring to the median number of immigrants per boat. One might almost start to picture a bookings agent attending to immigrants queries and taking reservations in a secluded alleyway in some congested North African village. Days ago it was reported by the Times that an improvement in the safety standards on the boats with which immigrants drift northward itself suggests that the traffickers have grown more organized, however that is as far as connections seem to have officially gone.

The people are to believe that all else is merely a coincidence, including the GonziPN campaign’s utter downplay of its relative inaction for as far as the illegal immigration crisis was concerned during the previous administrative term, suspicious considering the uncannily convenient reduction in the inflow of immigrants in 2007 and the similarly uncannily convenient increase in the inflow of immigrants in 2008, already practically confirmed to be a record-breaker with over 2,000 illegal immigrants received so far this year – in the middle of August.

Earlier in this series I had stated that Josie Muscat’s proposal for burden sharing is not the solution to the illegal immigration issue. I made it very clear as to why this is so, but will now add that this does not mean that burden sharing has no place within the tackling of the issue. After all, Lampedusa would likely be in much worse shape were it not for the redistributive efforts of Italy and, while the Maltese Islands have received relatively paltry assistance in redistribution, we could very well do with it, especially when one considers that this year’s tally exceeds 0.5% of the entire population of Malta. Who knows how many were accumulated during the past years following the turn of the millennium.

The concept of redistribution is not to be forgotten. It buys time to properly deal with the masses of illegal immigrants already here. It would be hasty to attempt to push them back south of our respective borders and would likely turn out to be a very painful experience. It makes more sense to tackle such matters in a more organic fashion over the middle-to-long term, relations with our southern nations crucial to mutual benefit and success.

Forty… fifty… sixty… seventy… Oh, darn there is a 50 kilometre per hour speed limit road sign ahead! My right foot applies pressure down on the break pedal and the next 500 meters of straight downhill is spent quietly plotting against the retarded planner who decided that that particular speed limit was justified. Further up the road one comes across another example of road engineering genius as I do my best to ignore the brightly neon back-illuminated adverts that line the dark road, obscuring the precise location of the concrete wall beside it. Experience and a little bit of luck pulls me through yet again and off I head to another ridiculously slow speed limit.

It never ceases to amaze me just how poor the planning abilities of the road planners can be, nor does it comfort me to know unboisterously that I could do a lot better. On the other hand I have to acknowledge that they have long faced the unenviable task of attempting to cater for a highly disproportionate vehicle ownership density, again thanks to opportunistic mismanagement, which has done nothing to make their task any less complicated.

This is obviously a country where money not only talks but walks, where hypocrisy exists even upon the level of standard road safety. How can a governing party not hide its face in shame when its apparent solution to deteriorating road qualities is similarly deteriorating speed limits? How can such a government land heavily upon drivers unfortunate enough to be caught 5 kilometres an hour over the speed limit upon a stretch of road insultingly graded as safe up to 50 kilometres or less an hour? How can such a government apparently ignore the risks that back-illuminated signs can pose to on-coming drivers at night, drawing their attention off of the road, and then have the cheek to lecture us about the dangers of using a mobile phone while driving? How exactly is this not hypocrisy?

Oh and just to clarify, no I have not as of yet been caught “speeding”. I am a relatively mindful driver and one of the things that I am mindful about is fuel efficiency, not one of the best bed partners of true speed. I have, however, directed the mysterious powers of my admittedly feeble ill-will towards the speed cameras, willing the fuse to blow or for the device to otherwise malfunction. Thus-far results have only proven that my ill-will is indeed feeble, but I still try.

Perhaps if I were to hear that they were being coupled with more safety-orientated rather than profit-orientated speed limits, and perhaps if they were to ‘not’ be contracted via private firms, and perhaps if I were to learn that the monies generated were actually going towards improving the roads rather than private interests, then I might redirect my feeble powers of negativity towards another worthy adversary – perhaps the rust forming on my car’s bonnet or maybe some of the more poorly-designed speed bumps, more than able to rattle one’s suspension at under half the supposed speed limit.

Several micro-steps have been sketched out so far. As of henceforth I shall make the assumption that those mentioned thus-far will have been heeded so as to pave the way for future micro-steps. I shall ignore the fact that the reality is such that little if any of the thoughts encapsulated within them have been heeded and as I delve into the realm of fiction I can only hope that the powers that be have the interests of the Islands at heart as they plod on into the territories of the grey marshes. Yes, sadly the following is not reflective of the reality.

The government has finally grown aware of the impending and dark future that unabated mass immigration is set to plunge the Maltese Islands into. They have finally recalled their oaths taken as well as where their responsibilities primarily lie – the people whose grudged trust and vote they gained through brook and through crook. The government has finally declared illegal immigration to be a major crisis facing the Islands and pledge to actually treat the issue as such in future.

It is fast and yet belatedly realized that it would not only be practically impossible for the Islands to attempt to resolve the issue alone but it is also realized that any such solitary attempt would most likely be seen in a very negative light in the eyes of international observers looking in from their perch far away. Thus diplomats become busy at work both North and South, West and East of the Islands, steadily and tirelessly bringing about conditions more favourable to any continuation onto the next stage.

Our MEPs actively work to place pressure upon the European Parliament so as to treat the issue as not only one for what some members may perceive as ‘periphery buffer states’, but to treat it as an issue for Europe as a whole. Further dignitaries head to Spain, Italy and Greece and a further delegation heads to Libya to initiate precursory discourse while the other dignitaries liaise to determine a common front and goal in more intensive talks with Morocco, Libya and Egypt respectively.

In their evaluation of the history of mass migration worldwide the partners conclude that, unlike that which was true for the past both in the Mediterranean and south of the United States, there can be no two ways of going about matters. In subsequent dealings with their southern counterparts they are cordial and forthright, stating in no uncertain terms that boatloads of illegal immigrants will no longer be accepted by the respective nation states and that any such vessels or individuals shall be turned away at the earliest possible opportunity.

In the ensuing weeks the Maltese Islands and her partners west, north and east experience a number of difficult situations and decisions but remain true to their word. Over a hundred boats carrying migrants are intercepted by patrol boats conducting a 24 hour watch of our respective naval borders. The boats are invariably turned back. Boats with insufficient provisions and fuel are reasonably resupplied for their southward return, Boats unfit to carry the numbers aboard are supplemented by refurbished boats of previous intercepted vehicles stocked on land, including the substitution of such vessels if need be. Dozens of migrants are held temporarily for treatment at sea and even a couple of babies are born in a vessel suitably equipped to enable medical procedures to be carried out at sea. Such cases are kept upon the waves for several weeks before also being sent back. A boat of drowned immigrants takes hold of the headlines worldwide.

These were weeks when pro-immigration and human rights groups took to the streets to air their discontent and disapproval of the major shift in foreign policy. These are the weeks when protests both peaceful and not so peaceful erupt amongst various quarters. The thousands of illegal migrants already within the Maltese Islands also react in a variety of ways, more peaceful but some more violently so. These are the weeks when even the European Union uses words of consternation in spite of the best efforts of our MEPs to maintain calm upon the level of European Parliament.

However after those initial weeks of turbulence something interesting starts to take place. The number of boats intercepted begin to dwindle sharply and a month later days go by without a single boat in sight. Back in North Africa the news travels fast as would-be immigrants return to the shores of their country of departure and air their discontent both with their traffickers as well as with their friends and families, and fewer and fewer individuals are willing to pay good money to a trafficker on a hope that he or she knows is false, seeing everybody else has been turned around, even that one boat that managed to make it to shore.

The carrot is no longer there and so few, if any, hazard the journey. Crossing the Mediterranean is thus made infeasible by the same governments who now proceed to reinforce and expand upon their contacts within the nations of their southern counterparts. After all, this is only the beginning.

I am of the belief that sports can be a very powerful and positive force within any society. I am also of the belief that the realm of sport should not be confined to the level of the arena concerned. However any force with a great potential for positive influence also has a similarly great potential for abuse and spoliation. Sport is no exception here and one of the greatest challenges facing sports today, for as far as I am concerned, is money.

No I do not refer to the lack of funds, though having some money is certainly a plus for the development of sport. I refer to the potential for corruption attached to money, especially for as far as the interests riding on games and the trading and claiming of players is concerned. Through money the corrupting structures within many sports may be found to be rooted. A secondary source is egotism. We are all too familiar with this later phenomenon although we may not recognize it. Intense rivalries within sports burn on for years and years, through regattas, football tournaments and firework shows. Some of us just need to feel superior to others so as to feel good about ourselves.

While one can understand that competitive sports are… well… competitive, and that it would be foolish to attempt to take the competitiveness out of competition, and while one can also understand that there are always egos at stake during such competitions, there comes a point when the spice within the mix becomes excessive and ruins the lot. Why is it that sports are not well integrated into society for individuals beyond their teenage years? Why is it that sports in the Maltese Islands are so disjointed from each other? Are sports really that alien to each other?

And why, oh why, do local teams persist with importing foreign nationals from abroad? What is the point of, for example, the Filfla team (and lest there actually exists such a team, the reference is a complete coincidence), winning the local leagues if the squad consists of an array of foreigners and naturalized “locals” with the odd real local inserted for good measure? Is that really a win for Filfla? Is this how far local football will stoop so as to make it beyond the World Cup qualifiers? Teams worldwide do it. This should not be taken to mean that it is the natural thing to do. If the Maltese unconsciously feel that they are not up to the task of competing in soccer then perhaps they should perhaps substitute the sport rather than the national identity of the teams dispatched. How about the other kind of football? I am of the understanding that Malta is doing pretty well, without substituting our boys and girls for imports in the process.

Now I am not saying that no foreign nationals should be allowed to play, but I do not think that the importation of players does anything more than serve the egos of the elite cluster behind the team, and perhaps a few die-hard fans who would rather obtain a hollow victory than a respectable defeat.