The most recent publication by Mark A. Sammut-Sassi, Flying at the Fall of Dusk – Commentaries on Malta in the Muscat years,  immediately caught my interest for the reason that the title so tastefully chosen by the author is evidently taken from Hegel’s “the owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the falling of the dusk”.

Hegel’s point here is that it is only at the end of human history that human beings can come to understand history’s developmental logic. Sammut-Sassi expounds his philosophical thesis straight from the title.

Though the book is indeed a collection of essays predominantly covering politics, history, morality, philosophy and literature, all blended beautifully together, there is one Ariadne’s thread that takes us around and out of Muscat’s political maze: the exposure of the latter’s contradictory pseudo neoliberalism.

Sammut-Sassi reveals Muscat’s “fringe liberalism” and his “messy messianic legacy”.

This interesting literary work starts with a beautifully written critical introduction by the Catholic intellectual Andre P. Debattista. Unblemished by any non-essential comments, Debattista moves on to criticise the Muscat “moviment” ever so elegantly. Through a quick romp through Sammut Sassi’s contributions, he demolishes the Muscat version of neoliberalism. Similarly to Sammut, Debattista proposes a conservative alternative which appears to be informed by Burke and Scruton, among others.

In Debattista’s own words “[h]is work is refreshingly honest. His style is erudite and, like every essayist worth his salt, he turns political writing into an art form. At times polemical, these essays serve to challenge the status quo”.

One may agree or not agree with some of the arguments the author puts forward, depending where one stands on the political spectrum. What is sure is that he is consistent in his conservative outlook. He does not delve into nostalgia but in tradition.

Sammut-Sassi has a very sophisticated sense of humour

Of great interest to me was the question of identity of our nation. He gives us his reactions to the removal of the George Cross from the Maltese flag, promoted essentially by Chevalier Dr Charles Xuereb. I will leave this part to the reader to discover, I will just comment that the author is utterly frank about it.

The author also mentions Mintoff’s nationalism. I think that Mintoff’s quest for identity had also a covert element of re-engineering Malta into some sort of Yugoslavia of the Mediterranean.

While perhaps that of Muscat was to re-engineer it latently into a hybrid of Dubai and Singapore of the Mediterranean. Sant was more straightforward, he wanted a ‘Switzerland in the Mediterranean’. Anyway, Sammut-Sassi manages to connect the idea of being European and still having oikophilia.

The author’s conceptual flagship is his repugnance to a laissez faire culture of death. Nevertheless, this 312-page book, is not just about abortion. It is indeed about ‘love’. The author is openly pro-life and brings up old and new reasons against abortion.

He takes a dig at Peter Singer who in his book, Practical Ethics, argues that: “Human babies are not born self-aware, or capable of grasping that they exist over time. They are not persons.” But “animals are self-aware”, and therefore, “the life of a new-born is of less value than the life of a pig, a dog, or a chimpanzee”.

Joseph Muscat, as portrayed by Mark A. Sammut-Sassi, is an oxymoronic anti-hero. Photo: Jonathan Borg

Sammut-Sassi has a very sophisticated sense of humour and deflates the sometimes sombre subject matter of his writing through some story or criticism to some Maltese or foreign demigod, calling them “Ewok-look-alike starlet” for example.

His admiration and respect toward Chief Justice Emeritus Prof. Giuseppe Mifsud Bonnici (ĠoĠo) is evident as he mentions him frequently in different contexts. Of great interest to me is the mention of ĠoĠo in relation to the common good which happens to be my passion.

While throughout the whole book the author levels criticism at the Muscat years, it is in the epilogue that he recognises Malta’s disgraced prime minister’s high intelligence.

However, he immediately balances that admission with stating Muscat’s low moral standards. With a hint of sadness but paradoxically with his usual leitmotif, Sammut-Sassi writes that Muscat could have been our Captain Kirk.

However, due to his lax behaviour, his political soul did not ascend to ‘Valhalla’ but ended up in the ‘Gehenna’. He tells us that Muscat was ‘not a hero’ but that “[h]e is a fool who threw away the great potential destiny had bestowed upon him, to chase mirages that brought only ignominy”.

Muscat, as portrayed by Sammut-Sassi, is an oxymoronic anti-hero who, in his last days in power, paid a visit to the Pope and soon after “promised he would campaign for the legalisation of abortion”.

A purposely disseminated confusion strategy. These were just the highlights of a fascinating and captivating book which makes some very serious and fun reading!