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J’accuse : ‘Les sanscouilles’

At the time of the French revolution, part of the French population took to calling another part of the population “les sansculottes. According to one theory, the name is derived from the fact that the partisans of this particular revolutionary faction wore pantaloons (full-length trousers) instead of the fashionable knee-length culotte. (Wikipedia’s summary). I’ve always wondered why rather than being called ‘Les Pantaloons’, they were defined by what they did not wear, but that must be down to the fact that the point where sartorial affairs and politics converge more often than not involves criticism rather than praise.

Anyway, together with the Jacobins, the sansculottes were among the violent elements of the revolution. Unlike the Jacobins, they came from the working class and have bequeathed us the term “sans-culottism” meaning extreme egalitarian republican principles. The sansculottes disappeared shortly after the fall of Robespierre’s reign of terror and they left us the image of the carmagnole, the red cap of liberty and the sabots (clogs).

In today’s exciting times we have witnessed revolutions linked to colours, such as the red, purple and orange revolutions. We have also, in moments of great social upheaval, witnessed the blooming of “styles” and “fashions” that are a result of or reaction to the current political mood. In that sense, the sansculottes were the precursors to the mods, the punks, the rebels and the twittervolutionaries of today’s world but never, ever in his life would Jacques (René, if you please) Hébert, the revolutionary mentor of the sansculottes, have imagined the possibility of the movement of “les sanscouilles”.

Balls

Yet, all through this past week you couldn’t help but wonder whether just such a movement is forming in our collective sub-conscious and whether or not it manifested itself in the guise of our more prominent politicians and so-called investigative journalists when the divorce issue was once again discussed. Maltese, being the flowery expressive language that it is, lends itself perfectly to explaining what les sanscouilles is all about – and unless the linguistic fascists are hiding in ambush behind some corner, the best way to spell the Maltese version of sanscouilles is bla bajd.

Yep. The sanscouilles movement is made up of a combination of political Farinellis combined with the journalistic eunuchs who tend to fan their divas during performances. Lest I be accused of gender bias, I invite you to consider this whole ballsy business as an extended metaphor that applies to male and female alike. The defining trait of the sanscouilles is their inability to shoulder a modicum of responsibility and provide an inkling of inspirational politics; instead of responsibly taking a stand one way or another, they will wait to see which way the wind is blowing and find innumerable ways to postpone putting their neck on the line.

Contrary to public perception, the notion of the sanscouilles has less to do with ideas of virility and more with the ideal of responsible leadership. A quick run through the week’s events on divorce should really lead this country’s last remaining conscientious voters to despair. The sanscouilles movement is gaining ground… it is out there. It is everywhere.

The Emperor’s Clothes

I was told that Joseph Muscat pulled of quite a performance on Tuesday’s self-referential show of investigative journalism. I was told that by friends of mine who don’t usually bother turning up at the ballot box on Malta’s five-year anniversary equivalent of Doomsday. It was when the press started to report Joseph’s refreshed position on divorce that I wondered how my friends could buy this kind of pitch from a politician who, in the words of a commentator on J’accuse, “appears to have acquired his political education from the back of a Belgian beer mat”.

Then it clicked. Surely the prancing and sashaying of Malta’s prime example of castrato journalism could only have unwittingly (absence of wit is taken as read in most programmes) aided and abetted Muscat’s unprincipled approach to the divorce debate. Of course, if, unlike me, you are more than willing to watch the Emperor march around naked without giving him so much as a word of warning as to his glaring state of nudity, then you too will be equally appeased with his idea of “responsible divorce” combined with a “free vote for his party”.

The presenter’s position is compromised from the start. Comforted by the fact that his bias no longer needs to be declared (it’s to himself, lest you were wondering), his programmes are beyond “boring and dull”, having transformed into a self-referential sequence exposing the very best of selective journalistic incompetence. At any other time, on any other channel, Lou could be playing whatever tune he likes but prime time investigative journalism on national TV deserves much more than the image of castrated journalists playing second fiddle to whatever member of Parliament is on stage at the moment. Given that WE’s other programme has now completely taken leave of all senses and started to discuss close encounters of the third kind, the urgent need of a non-castrated style of journalism is all the more glaring.

But back to Muscat. His particular brand of sanscouillism is of the incredibly non-committal kind while sounding the exact opposite. Unless you manage to cut beyond the words and look into what is really being said, you might as well be listening to Ahmed the Dead Terrorist. Which is why Bondi’s castrato style journalism could not work. If he challenges Muscat he gets reminded that he is biased. If he goes along with him he ends up promising to endorse his “responsible divorce” campaign.

Muscat’s tergiversation stems from an inability to place the divorce issue in real constitutional terms and fails to appreciate his responsibilities both as Leader of the Opposition and aspirant leader of a nation. Divorce is not the kind of “right” that results from some majority-voting stint but is a legal possibility that is enacted in the interests (more often than not) of the few. What Muscat fails to understand is that you can be in favour of divorce legislation without necessarily being in favour of divorce.

Muscat tries to get away with this new-fangled notion of “responsible” divorce as though there is such a thing as irresponsible divorce. Sure we do not want a situation where the mere repetition of the cursèd word thrice would result in divorce like some Red Slippers gone all matrimonial. On the other hand, this shuffling of feet and hiding behind terms is not progressive at all. A progressive leader should have taken the bull by the horns and by this time presented what his idea of divorce should be – caveats and all – and be pushing to get it enacted in parliament for the benefit of those citizens who fulfil the conditions and desire to move on to a different, married life. Instead we get enigmatic “responsible divorce”. Well, so long as it’s responsible. Then again. What if I said “responsible mercy killing”? What say you about “responsible heroin consumption”? “Responsible castration”?

The high kind of pitch

And while Muscat was busy dancing with Lou to whatever music was being played at the never-ending end credits, Malta’s own Don Quixote was busy meeting our Prime Minister on the matter of his draft law on divorce. Now, I have already once more lauded JPO for the single-handed way he has pushed the sanscouilliste movement into some form of action on the divorce matter. On the other hand it was particularly jarring to see the push and pull of the JPO-Gonzi saga shortly after the meeting took place. First JPO met some members of the free press and declared that next year would be a great time for the harvest of both parliamentary discussions and referendum.

What-ho? Yep. The erstwhile backbencher had apparently been given the nihil obstat from up high to announce to the men of the realm that divorce would definitely be on the agenda in 2011, as would be an eventual referendum. Referendum? Did anyone say referendum? Is our hero tilting at windmills, suddenly drained of all mental faculties? Has he too succumbed to sanscouillism? Who on earth mentioned referenda? Do these folks even know how things are meant to work in this constitutional republic of ours?

Better still out came the OPM claiming that, yes, there was an agreement to proceed with the discussion but there was no mention of a referendum and that it would be best left to the electorate to decide. The electorate? It was like being knocked out twice within an hour. No referendum plus the electorate can only mean one thing in my book: that we will wait for the next general election for the divorce issue to be placed in the party’s manifesto and that a vote on the matter could only be taken after such a national vote.

Marchons! Marchons! A la Castille! You could hear the hordes of sanscouilles marching in line. They would storm Castille once again and spread the revolutionary fervour of the ball-less to the four corners of the islands. The divorce question had become a question of pass the parcel all over again and from Muscat to JPO to Gonzi the movement of the sanscouilles could only offer the electorate a castrato version of realpolitik. Wash your hands and let them decide. Pontius Pilate would be proud.

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The seven brothers

Then it came. When you least expected it and from the last place you would expect it. The voice of reason. Seven Church brothers sat down around a table and fleshed out a declaration “on conscience and divorce”. In the land of sanscouillism, seven men of the cloth came up with an eye-opener of a declaration that made you want to stand up on the nearest pulpit or stage and shout “Hallelujah”. Here was a ballsy statement divorced from the fire and brimstone rhetoric of brother Said Pullicino and divorced from the foot shuffling opportunism of the sanscouilliste community. The seven brothers called a spade a spade. And they reminded the whole bloody lot of the sanscouilliste community of the political role of one’s conscience – and one’s responsibility towards both society and one’s conscience.

For yes, there was much more to be read into the seven brothers’ invitation than a simple reminder that a real Catholic votes with an informed conscience. They went beyond that. They had no qualms reminding the devout that “for Catholics divorce is wrong whether permitted by civil law or not”. However, they did also emphasise the importance of evaluating one’s options by acting with an informed conscience bearing in mind one’s own morals and values – in this case God’s teaching.

The seven brothers introduced a new, important angle to the argument. They have not only repaired the damage to the Church’s image caused by Said Pullicino’s media-eval stance, but have provided an important example for the wider society. I dare go so far as stating that theirs is the real Christian democrat position that is miles apart from the tergiversation within the soul of the supposed Christian democrat party of Malta.

This is the how the role of a social actor is fulfilled. With a clear indication and an appraisal of every individual’s role in society and how he should go about fulfilling it. Instead of fire and brimstone, the brothers gave us the duty to inform our conscience and decide in good faith based on those considerations. After all, it is not just votes on the introduction of divorce that require greater reflection and an informed conscience. Someone, somewhere, still has faith in intelligent voters who will get us out of this mess.

www.akkuza.com is still sick of laryngitis. We’re sicker still of the sanscouillistes but still can’t find the right prescription.

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