While watching the carnage unfold on Capitol Hill earlier this month, I had a déjà vu of another carnage on another hill close to home.
Monday, October 16, 2017, was the blackest day of our democracy. Wednesday, January 6, 2021, was the blackest day of American democracy.
Although we were shocked, we realised that these two catastrophes did not take place in a vacuum. People did not just decide on their own one fine day to assassinate a journalist or to storm the Capitol.
In recent years we have witnessed the rise of populism and populist leaders, movements and policies in many pluralist liberal democracies. This new populism is underpinned by a post-truth politics, which is using social media as a mouthpiece for ‘fake news’ and ‘alternative facts’ with the intention of inciting fear and hatred of ‘the other’.
In Malta, ‘the other’ was embodied in Daphne Caruana Galizia. Following her assassination, ‘the other’ includes her family and civil society fighting for truth and justice.
When Caruana Galizia wrote about corruption, the hijacking of institutions and the impunity at the highest ranks of government, Joseph Muscat called it ‘fake news’. When the US media reported that Donald Trump had lost to Joe Biden last November, Trump trumpeted ‘fake news’.
The casualty on the war on the ‘other’ is the truth. At times, it is people speaking this truth to power.
Words have meaning. Words by leaders carry consequences. Mayhem ensued on the two hills, 39 months and thousands of miles apart.
Thirty-nine months. That’s how long we’ve been going through the darkest night of our recent history.
When day comes, we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade? So said a 22-year-old poet whose words exorcised the pall that had been hanging over the Capitol. Amanda Gorman’s bright yellow coat signified hope and change.
But what about us? What about the pall on the hill in Bidnija?
The first step in our recovery as a nation is to admit that ‘the Daphne people’, as our detractors disparagingly call us, were not as pure as the driven snow until that fateful day in October.
The blame of this decay at the heart of our democracy cannot be solely laid at the foot of those who willingly imbibed from the poisoned stream of lies and disinformation. When Caruana Galizia was still alive, practically trying to slay the Medusa of corruption all alone with her pen, we cheered from the sidelines and sometimes left a comment in the combox of her blog. We thought we did our bit as responsible citizens by casting our vote when required.
Then they killed her.
What about the pall on the hill in Bidnija?
And then we snapped out of our complacency. It took darkness for us to finally see.
While looking on horrified at the pictures of the burnt car on that hill in Bidnija, we decided that it was a time for boldness. That it was no longer time for comfort.
There was a choice to be made. Between continuing with the abdication of our responsibilities as citizens or by finally coming of age and throwing our hats in the ring.
This week Repubblika turned two. It was formally constituted on January 25, 2019, in terms of the Voluntary Organisations Act (Cap. 492 of the Laws of Malta) “to promote civil rights, democratic life, the rule of law, free speech, personal freedoms, social inclusion…by means of active participation in the national discourse”.
In simple terms, we were angry. We were mad as hell and we were not taking it anymore. Angry at ourselves for allowing it to happen with our ‘permission’ and angry at the authorities for allowing them to use our passivity to silence the only shining example of responsible citizenship in this country.
Repubblika grew organically from the protest movement that rose immediately after the assassination of Caruana Galizia and straightaway fingered the people in authority as being indirectly responsible for her murder. We were laughed at, ridiculed and called ‘fantasists’ but that snap judgement made in the feverish few days after her assassination proved to be true.
However, 39 months since this attack on our democracy, not one person has been tried for her murder. Thirty-nine long months of denials, deflections and detractions. Thirty-nine long months of attacks on Caruana Galizia’s family, on activists, on civil society. Thirty-nine long months of waiting for justice to be finally served.
So, yes, there are days when we ask ‘ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade’.
The idea of civil society is an alien concept for some so used to being fed tropes from our partisan way of doing politics.
Jonathan Sacks, the former chief rabbi of the United Kingdom, has, in my opinion, the best definition of what constitutes civil society. In his book, The politics of hope he wrote: “Civil society rests on moral relationships. They are brought about not by governments but by us: husbands and wives, parents, friends and citizens and by the knowledge of what we do and what we are makes a difference to those around us.”
As a society we must not forge contracts because contracts are about interests. Instead, we must forge covenants for they are about identity. It’s about you and me coming together to form an “us” for the common good.
Two hills.
It seems that America conquered her hill a few days ago. Our hill is yet to be conquered. Sometimes it is shrouded in darkness but we can still see the summit:
“For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.”
That is the only way to finish what she started.
Alessandra dee Crespo, president-elect, NGO Repubblika