While I was busy posting about hacks yesterday (De Moribus Viator) J’accuse (the blog) was being mightily rogered by some mini-genius hacker. That shot most of the afternoon for me trying to understand why the hell any outside links to J’accuse were being redirected to some weird site with a .ru appendage. I say for me but what I really mean is for me and a number of very friendly co-bloggers and savvy acquaintances who wracked their collective brains to solve this mysterious problem. We could come up with some conspiracy theory and claim that some underground movement of J’accuse haters planned to block access to the site. We could, but we already know what measures are taken by those who find J’accuse’s sting too hard to digest – besides it would be attributing too much net savviness to them for our liking.
Instead we discovered eventually that the hack was in the form of some script that plants itself onto your site (expressly a wordpress run site) following the installation or update of templates that have been purchases. It’s a smart little bit of program that (from what I understand) suddenly plonks itself on the receiving end of your site and redirects traffic to some weird destination registered in Russka. J’accuse would like to thank SL, MB and RV for their kind attention and attempts (finally successful) to solve the frustrating issue.
So if you tried clicking on J’accuse links yesterday (particularly from Facebook) and failed to reach the hallowed ground of this blog you now have the reason why. We would also like to reassure readers that no viruses or other similar devious contraptions could have been caught by clicking on links. At most your click will have taken you on a virtual trip to Russia and who knows were else… and denied you the daily dose of quality blogging.
Julia Farrugia’s “rapping” at the hands of the Press Ethics Commission (PEC) has brought the question of journalistic ethics back to the discussion arena. J’accuse has long taken the subject of journalistic ethics to heart – particularly within the context of the growth of the role of blogs and blog content in the public sphere. For some time now we have been mourning the death of investigative journalism in Malta and it has little to do with who is carrying the scythe.
In true fishpond fashion, the post-mortem analysis of the Julia Farrugia/Joseph Mizzi has been absorbed into the mainstream manner of journalism: where beyond the news item lies an opportunity to snipe at people and milk the possibility to sling mud as far as possible. This analysis of ours has nothing to do with our being faint-hearted or timid about the need to call a spade a spade. J’accuse has no claims to purity or perfection (though we do get damn close).
What we would like to see discussed is whether Julia Farrugia failed on the count of exercising journalistic discretion when faced with a possible story. In the case of that kind of examination we find that our judgement falls closer to that found on Lou Bondi’s or Daphne Caruana Galizia’s blogs than on the explanation afforded by MaltaToday journalist Matthew Vella. At the moment of receiving the information and video, Farrugia was duty bound to apply an ethical brake to the eagerness to publish a juicy video.
Matthew Vella tries to find fault with the PEC’s reasoning. In particular Vella does not agree with what he reads as a shift of moral responsibility: “it was not incumbent upon the journalist to take moral umbrage at the source’s footage. That would have been tantamount to self-censorship, on the basis of the assumed deference towards government appointees.” We may grant that the standard being applied by the PEC may not find universal acceptance (or cause difficulties in future application) – but that would be focusing on a separate problem. The focus here was on a journalist’s judgement and ethical considerations when evaluating “news value”.
Vella asks: “So does this mean from now on, when we encounter some form of embarrassing or unbecoming behaviour by a government minister or high-ranking civil servant, they should not be held to account, simply because they ridicule themselves?” I don’t think anybody would agree that this is the conclusion to be drawn. Let’s put it this way, had Julia Farrugia’s news item limited itself to reporting the fact that Mr Mizzi was filmed in a groggy state we might not be here asking questions. Instead the implications loaded behind the video, its suspect editing and the forcefulness with which it was used to bring about a political statement and result, shift it away from plain reporting and into the hazy domain of journalism driven by preconceived agendas – in which case it stops being journalism. It becomes biased reporting where “facts” are cut and paste to suit a journalist’s agenda.
Which brings me to the Daphnes and the Lous of this world. Lou Bondi has recntly taken to blogging and no longer considers the blogging world as a world of “peċluqa” (see video below) – either that or he has become one hell of a “peċluq” himself. His last two posts at the time of writing (“Julia, try a red bathing suit this time” and “When Julia went crying to daddy“) are redolent of the style perfected on the Runs (there goes the obsession). Malta’s foremost investigative journalist does not limit himself to discussing the ethical issue at stake but performs his own little foray into the world of character assassinations and guilt by association.
Daphne too chooses to deviate from the real issue and peppers her commentary with references to “il-boton” – the usual snide, taste-based, zokk u fergħa reasoning best left for PLPN bull towards the election. This is a pity really because there is no doubt that Caruana Galizia has accumulated enough expertise and networking to have the right sources and means to fill the gap that exists in investigative journalism in Malta. Instead she participates happily in fishpond peċlieq with gay abandon.
Yes, we know we can expect the tirade on J’accuse from this magnificent duo of Maltese journalistic standards but hey what’s new? Plategate may long be buried in the collective memory and might be down to the final stanzas of what has been a drawn out lament but the lessons to be learnt are still there in full view of anyone who cares to listen. Last time round – back in the heyday of Plategate – we held Lou to task for his apparent inability to assemble a proper program investigating the causes behind Plategate and the conflagration that ensued. Like Julia Farrugia, Daphne had sat on some juicy and important bits of news regarding the behaviour of members of our judiciary and their extended circles. Like Julia she had a decision on whether to go public or not. That was her moment of applying journalistic ethics.
Lou failed to ask Daphne (his dinner friend) the vital question: Why now? (as in Why then?). Julia Farrugia deserves the rapping on the knuckles for her lack of judgement in the Mizzi Affair. Daphne Caruana Galizia would still have us believe that the flush of information regarding the private lives of public individuals was triggered off by a sudden urge of public duty notwithstanding the fact that she had sat on that information (and accumulated it in true peċluqa style) for quite some time. Why did she choose the moment she chose to suddenly publish the information? Lou tried his damn best to depict Daphne as the hero and martyr when making his editorial choices for the infamous Bondiplus programme.
In J’accuse’s book the press should be reporting instances of public individuals who are caught misbehaving while on public duty. It should be uncovering these situations of public officers behaving badly and should continue to press on to ensure the transparency of such information.
What should never be done is to use such information in line with a private agenda of spite, hate, jealousy and retribution. Unfortunately it seems that Malta’s fishpond journalism is more and more prone to pick up the latter style than engage in real investigation and reporting.
So much for ethics then. Take that from Malta’s longest running peċluq.
End of the two weeks in Malta. The notes from a small island include a register of the pent up frustration that surfaces when discussing and that contrasts incredibly with the image of laid back Med country that is part of the daily tableau. We don’t travel to judge. Us expats I mean but we are inevitably driven to drawing comparisons. So while we may find the heat a little bit more unbearable with every visit, we can also be pleasantly surprised by the little beauties that surface. It’s like that with culinary fantasies like the atmosphere and food at Temptasian (The roof restaurant at The Palace, Sliema). While waiting for 30 mins at Zaventem for the baggage to finally start moving round the conveyor belt we are reminded by a Flemish lady that every country has it’s imperfections: “welcome to Belgium”. Luckily we manage to hop on the last train home and are chauffeured from the arid train station to sleepy Dondelange by the laid back and chilled MV who reminds us of the welcoming and homely nature of the Maltese abroad. We read the book ‘Uncommon’ on the flight and found it to be fantasmagorical. More on that in re-vu when we get down to writing a short review, which is a bit ironic really because I get the feeling that it will be like révù reviewing itself.
Image: from the J’accse physical archives. A snapshot of a poster for an SDM/MUSC party back in the day when budding politicians knew the difference between work and play (and were good at both) and DJs were …. Hell, just DJs.
Papillon is the name of a 1969 novel written by Frenchman Henri Charrière. The (allegedly) autobiographical novel tells of Charrière’s extraordinary saga at the hands of the French criminal justice system between 1931 and 1945 after he had been condemned to a period of hard labour on Devil’s Island as a punishment for murder. Charrière’s character in the book is called “Papillon” − the French for butterfly − because of the butterfly tattoo he had on his chest. The papillon is also a symbol of the freedom that this prisoner constantly craved.
Cinema buffs will have surely watched the 1973 movie starring Steve McQueen as Papillon. The book itself was an international sensation and caused a furore in France since Charrière’s story exposed the harsh brutality of the French justice system and the inhumanity of pre-war incarceration policies. Attempts were made to discredit the veracity of Charrière’s adventures, and articles and books were written to kill the more colourful of Charrière’s stories. Papillon, if one were to take his word for it, had suffered the ignominy of inhuman conditions and isolation. His different attempts to escape and obtain the freedom that he believed he deserved involved audacious contraptions and life-threatening situations but his book served at least to unmask the hideous conditions in the French penal system.
This could be heaven, this could be hell
Freedom. It was not the auburn Scot with face daubed in blue that spoke the word but a dark skinned Ivorian speaking to a Times of Malta journalist who was trying to discover the reason for the Safi riots. Freedom. It’s a strong word with a very strong meaning. The Hollywood speech reserved for Mel Gibson in Braveheart is simply about humankind’s love of freedom and its willingness to lay down everything else in order to obtain it. The anonymous Ivorian did not speak from a high horse (metaphorically and physically) when he explained the reasons behind what have been dubbed the “riots” in Safi.
The men and women condemned by our 18-month detention policy are reduced to becoming inhuman wrecks pacing up and down the dirty corridors of Malta’s own Gulag probably wondering what other cruel fate can be thrown at them. It is one thing being a criminal, like Papillon, and still succumbing to the very natural urge to escape and spread your wings. It is another to have escaped the miseries and trials and tribulations of a war-torn country and to find yourself in a Mediterranean concentration camp under the August sun. Freedom. Not 5-star food, not 5-star accomodation, just freedom − and the right to be treated as a human being. Yet, what most people saw was not a genuine cry for freedom. They saw guests misbehaving.
Bring your alibis
Fellow blogger Andrew Azzopardi has taken the cause of the Safi inmates (for inmates they are) to heart. His blog has been constantly updated with photos from inside the camp documenting the hideous conditions. Other recent members of the blogosphere like Norman Vella picked on the ugly response of the dark side of this nation. I blogged about this in the post “What paradise?” in which I wondered whether this nation of ours has so much to be feel indignant about. It had been a truly disgusting week of reactions in the comment boxes.
I picked on a Facebook comment by divorce guru Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando in the What paradise? post. “Illegal immigrants among us have to understand that they are guests in our country and they should behave accordingly,” quoth Mr Divorce. My first reaction was to comment right under his post and wonder whether the immigrants aren’t doing just that − behaving accordingly. You know, when in Rome…
JPO was voicing an ugly popular sentiment that keeps resurfacing. It gets worse when there are calls to “send them back home” or when the comments incite actual violence against the “guests”. The pink corner of the blogosphere also picked up (should I say “filched” because we stumbled on the same post? The law of petty schoolgirl thinking would seem to imply so − hey I saw it first!) on the JPO comment and condemned the crassness of it all.
Pink champagne on ice
I don’t just mention the other blogs to point out the varied nature of the blogosphere’s reaction to the goings on. The blogs, the blogosphere and the mainstream media comment boards are one way of gauging our reactions to the main events in our lives. They also provide another testing ground. They are a microcosmic reflection of the manner in which our society operates: with its little battlegrounds for prima donnas, with the pushing and shoving for cornering tiny markets and perceived centres of power, and with the constant battle in which the loudest, noisiest and most lewdly entertaining tends to win the public’s baying approval. Welcome to the 21st century Colosseum.
It is the world where a refined pen and mastery of English can be used to churn out filth and fabricate character assassinations day in day out. It is a world where − posing through the guise of bluff and plagiarism − budding politicians and faux intellectuals win their fawning corner of the crowd by selling their repackaged gospel to the malleable masses. It is a world that has spawned the quick judgement, the guillotine jury and the fast-track condemnation based on taste. This world has fed on Malta’s particular adaptation of the global ideological vacuum as nurtured by the PLPN mentality. It is not a world of discussion but of antagonism where, in the words of the philosopher Slavoj Zizek “(the people) express an authentic rage which is not able to transform itself into a positive programme of socio-political change”.
We are programmed to receive
The riots in London, the indignados in Spain and the Jasmine Revolution in North Africa. We tried, maybe wrongly, to find a common element (do check out www.re-vu.org for a couple of good articles analysing the riots). Zizek, the philosopher I mentioned earlier, has penned a brilliant article himself called “Shoplifters of the World Unite” in which he notes the ideological political predicament we live in: “A society which celebrates choice but in which the only available alternative to enforced democratic consensus is a blind acting out.” “What is the point of our celebrated freedom of choice,” asks Zizek, “when the only choice is between playing by the rules and (self-) destructive violence?”
In our tiny microcosm we might be looking at the Safi “riots” from the wrong angle. JPO’s concept of “guests” implies that we are somehow better off than the Ivorian who is craving freedom and who can only vent his anger and frustration by lighting a fire in the compound. What that image fails to consider and factor into the context is the fact that the post-ideological vacuum is the predicament of a whole island of cynics. Liberals and conservatives alike seem to be unable to face the fact that there is a value vacuum that is slowly transforming into our cage. Relativism and poverty of values is leading to our becoming prisoners in our own home.
We are all just prisoners here, of our own device
Which is why I asked the question “What paradise?” this week. The rioter in Safi wants freedom from his prison. But is the world beyond the confines of Safi’s walls a free world? Papillon, the prisoner of an outdated penal system ended up wandering from one prison island to another before finally obtaining his freedom in Venezuela. In this day and age it is not just four walls that can constitute a prison but also mental barriers built on a vacuum devoid of reference points and an absence of clear socio-political goals.
The Ivorian and his fellows at Safi might still be in time to realise that beyond their four walls lies a larger prison populated by hypocrites and false moralists. This news might come as slim consolation for the Safi inmates but the least we can do is notice that guests and hosts alike might be in desperate need of a plan to work towards a better life. Otherwise we will end up living the song… where we can check out anytime we like, but we can never leave.
The Duchy beckons
It’s been a hectic two weeks of rushing around (and a bit of idyllic epicurean delight). The heat is really stifling and it’s a wonder that anything gets done. I have a note of sympathy for fellow lawyers who are obliged by the ridiculous rules of convention to trudge to Valletta wearing suits in 35 degrees of heat. How long before we notice that this weather requires its own dress code?
Food-wise, I’ve enjoyed terrific meals from the succulent rib eye served consistently at Sliema’s weather toss’d pitch to the delicious seafood on offer at il-Pulena in Marsalforn (three thumbs up again Godwin). It would be a shame not to mention Qbajjar Restaurant’s great BBQ Wednesday night while a big thank you to the blokes at Badass Burgers for remembering the gluten-challenged among us. I’ve tried Arriva, I’ve caught the ferries and I have only one thing to say: “move bloody back”. What is it with idiots who plonk themselves half way up the bus aisle thus giving the impression of a bus that is full? I leave the island with mixed impressions: it’s definitely a cleaner Malta (the effort on the beaches merits a standing ovation) but there’s an angry, cynical interior that is letting itself be harnessed by the most harmful of forces. It’s that interior that can be jarring and render life unpleasant.
All you need is a thick skin, plenty of sun block and a daily dose of J’accuse. Which is what you will get in the post-vacation weeks to come.
www.akkuza.com has quoted from Slavoj Zizek’s “Shoplifters of the world unite” (google it for the free version). Papillon (the movie) released in 1973 features Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffmann. Blogs mentioned in this article can be accessed freely on the Internet. Don’t believe all that you read. Remember: Just ask. Subs courtesy of the Eagles’ Hotel California.
The immigrants are rioting. The Maltese comment boards are rife with spiteful messages of the “send them back home” kind. Forget blaming the police or the government. It’s the whole damn country that’s in a mess at the worst possible time. I’m not speaking of hysterical bloggers switching attention from the real issues to a slide show of cheap voyeurism. I am speaking of the mentality that is evident on every bus, in every queue, in every department or shop. It’s how people yell at each other. How they judge and sell relative opinions. How the primadonnas of this world panic at every moment that they seem to lose what they perceive to be control of their twisted corner of whatever market they seem to occur and how the masses enjoy their role as supporters in a dog-eat-dog world without realising that the dogs are biting at their hearts.
My errands on this holiday have taken me to the Emigrants Commission and to the Public Registry. I’ve used public transport, I’ve driven and on breaks I’ve had a chance to see the mass at work – through the multiplicity of individuals who squat on this tiny rock. We’ve lost something along the way these past few years. It’s a mixture of values, attitude and outlook to life. We’re on the defensive while thinking in cliches. We’re rashly judgemental and highly egoistic. We’re an ugly mixture of materialistic hedonism and false moralism. We’re oblivious to the world across the sea while we continue to peddle the fable of a whole universe on one small island that could live without anyone and that does not need anyone. And when the world passes to our shores we panic and yell. We shout “Move Up”, “What do you want?” “Stand Back” “Go Home” “Five euros and twenty cents” “Tini dak” “Qabzitli” “That’s mine” “X’buzz mann” in unison and speak in a tongue of anger an remote-controlled frustration without any reference point.
The immigrants may be rioting in Safi. There may be policemen injured doing their job. The rioters might be yelling “Freedom, Freedom”. But in the end you cannot help but wonder whether their riot is misguided. You cannot help but wonder whether they are safer in the confines of their detention. You cannot help but wonder that with the experiences and stories that life has harshly and unfairly thrown at them, it’s the walls of their detention centre in Safi that are keeping them away from the mass of prisoners on an island inhabited by false moralists and hypocrites.
The Safi inmates yelling for Freedom might still be in time to realise that the real prison lies beyond the confines of the Safi Centre.
What detention centre? In an island of hypocrites and false moralists we are all prisoners. This is no paradise to be banished from.
COMMENT IS FREE. STILL. THINK BEFORE YOU TYPE.
‘We are all just prisoners here, of our own device’
There she goes again. The Runs seems to have another bout of j’accuse-itis. Apparently this blog that is either “boring” or “unnoticed” also operates on the basis of envy and is suddenly object of another spat of diarrhoea on the site that never stops the pink tirades. I still do not get the “envy” bit though… I don’t exactly see what there is to envy exactly. God knows…. although I’m sure even He would have some difficulty fathoming the character assessments on The Runs.
Anyways, it turns out that some bloke who (surprise, surprise) posts anonymously on the Runs under the name of Delacroixet had also come across Nikita’s not so hidden ouvre d’art. The Run Fan put up two links to compare and contrast – one to Nikita’s blog and another to a CNBC copy of the FT article. Somehow I am supposed to have “filched” the incredible and news that Nikita’s blog was plagiarised and “not attributed” this fact to the Runs and its followers (by the way, the Runs author is still moping about the “nerd attack” a while back when she was told off by most that her practice of not attributing sources is just not done). Funny, I never came across the CNBC site – it was easier to find the article directly on the Financial Times.
The Nikita business has put quite a few people in a fix. On the one hand these people would like to think that this blog does not exist and that nobody ready it while on the other hand they were itching to report the Nikita business. On the one hand they’d love to say that anyone with a head on their necks could tell that Nikita’s job was outsourced but on the other hand they find it hard to see that one did not necessarily have to dredge through the muck on the Runs to discover the latest example of plagiarism.
If we did not have a track record of noting plagiarism in the papers we’d be worried. Only we know better than the fanatics and bitching fools on a site ridden with grudges. You begin to understand the envy bit when you see the uncontrolled reaction complete with sorry innuendos and banale double-entendres that you only find on www.tasteyourownmedicine.com or www.daphnecaruanagalizia.com. In the nineties we had Manuel Cuschieri, now we have the hammalli peddling their crazed theories from Bidnija to London. Plus ca change…
And in case you thought the Bidniija Blog was serious about the attribution business just look two posts back. While the Runs was still blogging about our discovery (probably eating her heart out based on whatever standards of “I’m first” count as honour in that sad corner of the blogging world) there was no link to this site.
The Runs is right. It’s not about attribution is it. It’s about envy. I still don’t know who the Maltese prick drinking the coffee in the pic she filched from my blog is though. He probably reads the Runs and finds base innuendos extremely funny.
Sorry to disappoint the Runs and the tarzanelli fans but it did not take much to discover Nikita’s filching. Like it had not taken much to find others before. The fact that someone who posts regularly on Runs also notice the plagiarizing only goes to show how ANYBODY could have found it.
BTW Re my supposed obsession with the runs… I’ve said it all before… seems like it’s time for a healthy reminder: Sleeping Bitches & Galliano
Photo: Some people go green with envy. This one prefers shades of red (taken from www.tasteyourownmedicine.com).
The men and women condemned by our 18-month detention policy are reduced to becoming inhuman wrecks pacing up and down the dirty corridors of Malta’s own Gulag probably wondering what other cruel fate can be thrown at them. It is one thing being a criminal, like Papillon, and still succumbing to the very natural urge to escape and spread your wings. It is another to have escaped the miseries and trials and tribulations of a war-torn country and to find yourself in a Mediterranean concentration camp under the August sun. Freedom. Not 5-star food, not 5-star accomodation, just freedom − and the right to be treated as a human being. Yet, what most people saw was not a genuine cry for freedom. They saw guests misbehaving.
