The downfall of Joseph Muscat would make for a very interesting doctoral thesis in any department of psychology.
It is like watching footage of the same person in a split screen. On one side of the screen you can see his face plastered all over the world’s mainstream media, condemned by journalists, economists, people of his own party, the whole of the European Parliament, the Council of Europe and more.
And on the other side of the screen, there’s him going round Malta and Gozo on his ‘farewell tour’. He stands on platforms with his wife behind him. Him with a very deep furrowed brow, her with a serene, smoothed brow and wearing a tiara. The both of them perfecting a hand wave last seen circa Emperor Franz Joseph and Empress Sissy of Austria in the 1880s.
Muscat tells his crowd that he’s going to step down but he’s staying on for another month because he loves us all. But that’s what his lips are saying. His frown is saying that he wants to avoid police interrogating him and he wants to keep covering up for his best friend, the chief of staff Keith Schembri (the poor soul who lost his mobile) for his alleged involvement in the assassination of journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia.
Ms Muscat tells her crowd that “we have to practise the values that Joseph Muscat taught us”. But that’s what her lips are saying. Her serene, smoothed brow is telling us exactly what those values are.
Watching this Muscat roadshow these last three weeks, I can’t help thinking that there is something non compos mentis about all this. In fact, it is all so surreal that I have been searching and asking experts for some understanding of this, uh, batty behaviour.
A friend passed on the answer a few days ago – in the shape of a paper published in the Royal College of Physicians’ medical journal.
The paper entitled ‘The Hubris syndrome’ was written a few years ago by Lord David Owen, the former British foreign secretary, who is also a physician and neuroscientist. And it makes for some insightful reading.
This Hubris syndrome is not a personality disorder, like say OCD or paranoiac behaviour. Disorders like those tend to show up as early as childhood or in teenagehood, and then grow up with you.
One thing is certain: the Muscats most certainly need to go to rehab to cure themselves of a very acute case of Hubris
No, the Hubris syndrome is only seen in adulthood, specifically when people find themselves in a position of power. Lord David describes it as “an illness of position as much as of the person”. Therefore, technically, people who find themselves in a position of power, and who are prone to be excessively ambitious, may be afflicted by this syndrome. Anyone can get it. You, me, your neighbour, my err, neighbour around the corner, and so on so forth.
But before we explore further, let us analyse the semantics, shall we? According to the Webster dictionary, ‘hubris’ is a word that originated in Ancient Greece. Plato and other classical Greeks used the concept of hubris when someone was so cocky and ambitious that it became a dangerous character flaw which brought about the wrath of the gods. Invariably it led to the cocky man’s downfall.
“Typically, overconfidence led the hero to attempt to overstep the boundaries of human limitations and assume a godlike status, and the gods inevitably humbled the offender with a sharp reminder of his or her mortality,” says the dictionary. Think Achilles and his heel.
To make it easier for us, Lord David lists some of the symptoms typical of the Hubris syndrome diagnosis: a deep-seated wish to seek glory worldwide; a disproportionate concern with image; a messianic way of talking about their job; a tendency to talk of themselves in the third person or use of the royal ‘we’; excessive confidence in their own judgement; contempt for the criticism of others; and a sense of omnipotence in their abilities. All this becomes more pronounced the longer a leader with the syndrome is in power.
Of course, democratic societies have a system of checks and balances to try to avoid the nurturing of a Hubris syndrome in their leaders. That’s why there are ministerial cabinets, parliaments, the media and the judiciary. But, alas, these don’t always work – a leader with the Hubris syndrome hijacks them all. Sure, people can seek help from overseas, says Lord David, but “external condemnation and international sanctions have, so far, proved of only limited value.” Hmm.
He mentions the former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair by way of example of a leader with a blatantly obvious Hubris syndrome. What a coincidence indeed! Blair and Muscat just happen to be friends! Back in the day, Blair had even hailed Muscat as “a great example of what progressive politicians could do in power”. Sigh! Blair and his sense of judgement.
In any case, in his golden age – Diana’s death, September 11 and so on – Blair had an almost cult following and was thought of as “a political colossus, half-Caesar, half-Messiah”. But following the Iraq war scandal, he thought of himself as “a solitary victim” – and clung to power for as long as was insanely possible.
All this is extremely familiar, and maybe, just maybe, it helps us understand this mad circus unfolding every hour of every day in front of our own incredulous eyes. One thing is certain: the Muscats most certainly need to go to rehab to cure themselves of a very acute case of Hubris.
I’ll end with an urgent note to the future prime minister. Please read the following tips on how to avoid the Hubris syndrome:
Stick to your previous lifestyle. Accept that the institutional checks and balances should be scrupulously respected. Make absolutely no attempt to circumvent them. Surround yourself with spouses, colleagues and friends who are not afraid to disagree with you. Be self-critical. Have a proper sense of humour (not the ha-ha-throw-an-ice- bucket-over-me kind).
Most of all, keep in mind what the great Jimi Hendrix said: “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
Merry Christmas.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @krischetcuti