ON DICHOTOMIES

It is interesting, even from a purely amateur (and amateurish) position, to observe our politicians in action, especially when party dynamics exercise scarcely resistible pressures.

As it is the party currently going through quite a stressful time, for all that the lil'elves (and only last Wednesday, former Elf In Chief in the House played the same game) are stirring the PN pot for all their little arms are worth, the Labour Party is rich ground for this sort of observation.

At the apex of the MLP pyramid, we have Dr Muscat, who has quite clearly determined that he is to be the fresh, young face of Maltese politics. He is engaging, if you don't mind the mildly over the top hugs and kisses, and engages well, though he does tend to answer the questions he want to answer, rather than the ones asked. In this, he's not much different from anyone who's done any media training, so we'll forgive him.

He's also a man on a honeymoon, almost literally given his and his wife's (relatively) tender years, so all in all, he's just the ticket for the "let's go for the youth vote" arm of the MLP machine.

Juxtaposed with Muscat, though, we have his immediate subordinates, in the American fashion just half-a-heart-beat each away from the dizzying heights of the Leadership. Before I suffer the fate of Hillary Rodham but I want you to remember I am Clinton, this is merely a figure of speech and I don't really think anyone is going to assasinate Dr Muscat.

In the blue corner (again, a figure of speech) we have Muscat's Deputy Leader for Parliamentary Affairs, a gentleman who appears genuinely to believe that a PN plutocrat chucked a quarter of a million euro away in a buy the druggies' votes exercise. He also has politico-geographic issues, equiparating our country with a TPLAC (come on, all you elves, there's an opportunity to slag me off, if you know what TPLAC means) and stamping his little foot to demand that Big Brother makes sure the PN plays nice. Dr Farrugia, who has been a sentient being for as long as I have, knows that in our dim and distant past, elections were, indeed, run on the lines Mugabe seems to espouse, but that was then and this is now.

More rigorous word-processors than I have taken Farrugia's interview by Herman Grech in the Sunday Times to pieces, and I know that many of the people who read this read that, so if I do the same, I'll just be confirming that I am a running dog lackey of the PN groupie-fest. I do suggest, though, that you click across to the piece and see what makes the man tick. He does adore coming over as the hard man, someone you would not like to meet in a dark alley, someone you apologise to just in case. The reality of things, as always, is perhaps not as intimidating as all that, but hey, if that's how he wants to come across, who am I to contradict him?

Over in the red corner, Muscat has been delivered a Deputy Leader for Party Affairs who can talk the hind leg off a trailer park of donkeys and frequently does. Known for his ability to argue at the drop of a hat, and even about whether the hat was dropped with Marxist intentions or simply fell because it took too much opium to stay up, Toni Abela is going to give Joseph Muscat quite a run for his money simply trying to get a word in at all, much less edgeways.

I'm not privy to the inner workings of the MLP and I don't know if the Deputy Leaders are a) just book-ends b) vital cogs in the machine c) meant to relieve the Leader of part of his burden while being slightly decorative d) even less relevant than book-ends or e) none of the above, but Muscat, for the last couple of weeks at least, has taken care to have their fair phisogs flanking his every time he's been seen in public, so they must be of some import.

It would be surprising, actually, if the two deputies weren't wheeled out at every opportunity. The MLP must be suffering enormous internal strains, with Sant and his machine still exerting influence and making grinding noises, so having the Good, the Bad and the Ugly strutting their stuff is perhaps not such a lousy idea, since between them, the whole range of aspirations within the party can be appeased.

Yet again, before the lil'elves take aim, the GB&U crack was made for comedic effect, though it must be said that like all good comedy (if I say so myself) it has more than a grain of substance to it. You can use the comments section to have some fun: tell the world which is the G, which is the B and which is the U and why, the why bit being the one which is important. I don't moderate this blog, since I'm simply the hack who provides you with fuel, so don't blame me if your less charitable comments don't get through.

Getting my retaliation in first, I haven't written about the internal wranglings of the Nationalist Party, which is in the throes of electing itself a new administration, because,quite frankly, it isn't remotely as much fun or as interesting. The record shows that the PN gets it right, when "it" is the party structure and "gets it right" is doing what political parties are there to do, which is win elections.

In this scenario, who cares who does what to who in Pieta', when who did what to who and why at Mile End gives people like me so much more ammo?