The myth of Joseph Muscat’s political genius

In the popular narrative, unfortunately subscribed to by many followers of the Nationalist Party, Joseph Muscat’s 2013 landslide victory is often portrayed as the triumph of a political genius. He is perceived as a man who rebuilt his party, charmed the electorate and swept into Castille with unmatched popularity. But, with the benefit of hindsight, it becomes clear that Muscat’s rise was less about personal brilliance and more about timing, political fatigue and opportunity. In short, he was in the right place at the right time but definitely not the right man for Malta.

The story begins with the 2008 general election. Lawrence Gonzi, then prime minister, had steered Malta into the eurozone and overseen the final stages of EU integration. However, the PN administration was plagued by the perception of overstay, having been in power almost uninterrupted since 1987.

At the same time, the Labour Party was hardly a strong alternative. Under Alfred Sant, Labour had suffered repeated electoral failures and Sant himself had become a political liability. Enter Muscat, a young, ambitious journalist turned MEP, with a keen sense of political branding. When Sant stepped down, following the marginal 2008 loss, he stepped in. Arming himself with a calculated image overhaul, he marketed himself as a fresh face and a winning figure.

His campaign slogan, ‘Winning Generation’, cashed in on the subconscious value of both words; ‘winning’ was something the Labour faithful craved, while the word ‘generation’ indicated a break with the past and capitalised on his young age and on the perception that he had ‘won’ the 2004 MEP election. In one fell swoop, he had moulted, cold-bloodedly shedding his old ‘Sant’s poodle’ skin. 

His rise coincided with growing discontent within Nationalist ranks. Gonzi’s government was facing constant instability: rebellious backbenchers, internal divisions and poor public perception. External pressures, such as the financial crisis, the Libya conflict and soaring oil prices, were ably and commendably handled by Gonzi and his government, with Finance Minister Tonio Fenech deserving special mention. Yet, these pressures halted the boom that would have otherwise flourished. Against this backdrop, Muscat didn’t need to be exceptional. He simply needed to not be Gonzi.

His greatest strength was in reading the room. The electorate was tired, frustrated and eager for change. Instead of proposing radical policies, he positioned himself as the inevitable next prime minister, speaking confidently to business elites and promising a clean break from the past. The groundwork of this calculated charm offensive was laid quietly, behind the scenes, away from the scrutiny of mainstream media, in the infamous fourth floor.

Far from a political architect, Joseph Muscat was an opportunist- Eddie Aquilina

It’s important to note that many Labour insiders at the time weren’t clamouring for Muscat’s leadership. His rise was helped by internal disillusionment, lack of competition and, most of all, his ability to fill a vacuum rather than inspire a movement. The myth of Muscat as an electoral saviour ignores the fact that he inherited a political field already tilting in his favour.

Far from a political architect, Muscat was an opportunist. His media-savvy presentation was polished, vague and free of substance. By strategically repetitive propaganda, he drew a picture of a corrupt government using issues like the more-than-reasonable wage hike to ministers (which he had initially agreed to, then reneged upon and attacked), a worthless Maltese clock and an oil scandal.

Twisting of facts was the order of the day; a non-interest-earning, family-inherited Swiss bank account, stagnant for years, including when its owner was a minister of government, was another cavallo di battaglia. Once Muscat attained power, these false issues would fizzle into the nothing that they had always been but, by then, they had done their job. The picture he had drawn of Gonzi’s government proved to be the blueprint for his.

This strategy won over a significant portion of a disenchanted electorate with a slickness that was a mask, not a method. The real work of policy, reform and long-term planning was not, and had never been, a priority. It didn’t need to be. Victory at the polls was already a given that had been determined by the circumstances in which he had found himself.

Thus, the 2013 landslide wasn’t some miracle engineered by a genius. It was a result of a Nationalist government on its last legs, a public hungry for new faces and a man who knew how to ride the wave of the day. Muscat surfed into power; he didn’t build the ocean!

The seeds of future disillusionment were already present. His emphasis on image over policy, his knack for rewriting history and his readiness to shed past allegiances pointed to a deeper issue. His switching of positions and stances on key issues from one side to the another smacked of a convenience style of making politics. In a world that was fast becoming conscious of the harm done by disposable single-use plastics, he came up with disposable single-use policies. Muscat was the epitome of a political philosophy based not on service but on self-advancement.

His 2013 victory was not the product of superhuman political talent. It was the result of timing, luck and a Machiavellian manipulation of a weary public. That this myth still lingers says more about how we remember power than about how it is truly earned.

Eddie Aquilina