Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1278887
10 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 16 AUGUST 2020 Raphael Vassallo OPINION You can't solve problems with empty catch-phrases OK, so the following anecdote will probably seem a little irrele- vant, given everything else that's going on the moment – you know: the recent resurgence of COVID-19; the Nationalist Par- ty leadership race; the ongoing immigration crisis, etc. - but… trust me, I'm going somewhere with this (or at least, I hope I am). In any case, here goes. A few years back, I had a conversation with a Nationalist Party activist (too far down the food chain to bother naming) about the long- term effects of the 2011 divorce referendum. For make no mistake: the changes brought about by that referendum were by no means limited merely to the 'introduc- tion of divorce'. Up to a point, it also shattered the fundamental dynamics of how politics actual- ly functions in this country. But on with the story. At one point, our nameless narrator began describing his own expe- riences during the 2008 election campaign, when he accompa- nied a Nationalist candidate on a number of house visits. Increasingly, they started en- countering the sort of social problems that would later be- come much more visible during the referendum campaign it- self: people who couldn't marry their long-term partners; people complaining about the length (and outcome) of Church an- nulment procedures; people who resented the fact that their children – through no fault of their own – were technically classified as 'bastards', etc. etc. In one particular house, they were confronted by an elder- ly man – not exactly a 'liberal', by the way; more the type who traditionally covers his fridge- door with images of Padre Pio, San Gorg Preca, Pope John Paul II, etc. – who explained that his daughter (by then middle-aged) was living with her partner 'in a state of sin'… and that, for various reasons, her situation couldn't be rectified by any ex- isting legal option. "The last thing I want before I die is for my daughter to be married," he said; and then, turning directly to the candi- date, he added: "So… what do you intend to do about it if you are elected?" Apparently, the silence that followed was so absolute, that you could hear the grandfather clock ticking ominously away in the other room. "What could we possibly reply to that?", the narrator carried on with a helpless shrug. "You can't exactly tell a man, in those cir- cumstances: 'Sorry, but… I'm a Catholic; I'm a conservative; I'm against divorce… and therefore, YOU have to be lumped with your problem'. You just can't say it…" And yet, of course, that was the only honest answer the candi- date could possibly have given; and not only that, but it was also the official position of the politi- cal party he was in that house to represent in the first place. But what made this incident (and others of its kind) so signif- icant, back in 2011, was that it was the first time – at least, for the person who described it to me – that the Nationalist Party found itself forced to confront the sheer meaningless of its own empty rhetoric. It was, in a word, something of a watershed moment: de- marcating the precise instance when a political strategy that had always worked so well in the past – and for so very long, too – suddenly found itself crashing headlong into cold reality… only to instantly explode on impact, with all the consequences that followed (e.g., losing first the referendum, then the general election, in quick succession). Now: I don't know if that's the sort of thing Bernard Grech had in mind, when he recently told an interviewer that he had "learnt the lessons" from the di- vorce referendum (See? I told you this was going somewhere). What I do know, however, is that the substance of the an- ti-divorce campaign he chose to spearhead at the time – entitled 'Zwieg Bla Divorzju', if you'll re- member – was exactly the same as that 'answer' a PN candidate couldn't bring himself to give to that constituent, directly to his face, in his own home. So to me, at any rate – and, on the basis of other things he has said lately, I strongly suspect to Bernard Grech also – the 'lesson' to be learnt from that referendum was painstaking- ly clear. When confronted by problems that are: a) very real; b) very serious, and; c) affecting a very great number of people… a politician's response cannot be – as (let's face it) it had always been before – to simply leap on- to a pedestal, spout an instant halo, and endlessly pontificate about their own cherished 'prin- ciples' and 'values'. After all, politicians exist to offer people tangible solutions; not meaningless personal opin- ions. (Note: people like me, on the other hand, exist precisely for that latter purpose… and… well, just look at us...). So if politicians are not even going to try and come up with any solutions to the many, many issues affecting the country at any given moment… it's a bit like a footballer who can't be bothered to even try and score a few goals, or make a few tackles, in the course of an entire game. Quite frankly, they may as well not even be on the pitch. Then again, however… the thing with 'lessons' is that they are rarely applicable only to one person; or even, for that matter, only to one subject. Bernard Grech is hardly the only local politician who need- ed to have it spelt out to him so drastically in 2011; just as 'di- vorce' is not the only social issue that clearly requires more than just empty rhetoric in the way of If politicians are not even going to try and come up with any solutions to the many, many issues affecting the country at any given moment… it's a bit like a footballer who can't be bothered to even try and score a few goals