One of the fathers of the US Constitution, James Madison, famously wrote that a democracy could not flourish if its people was ignorant; it could only end in farce, tragedy, or both. He had in mind both access to news and knowledge of constitutional rights and freedoms, and why they needed safeguarding.
So the process of constitutional reform here will hopefully mean that we not only change what needs to be changed for the better, but also ensure greater public awareness of constitutional values. Some things are worth reflecting on even if we have no intention of changing them.
The reason we’re at this point at all in our constitutional history is because it’s clear that there is a gap between what our Constitution proclaims about our political order and how it works in practice. It’s a gap between what is and what ought to be. It proclaims we are a parliamentary democracy. But, given the current imbalance of powers, whoever is Prime Minister is effectively an executive President – without, however, the kind of separation of powers that such a political system should have.
When such gaps of meaning – between what the Constitution says and how power actually operates – gets too wide, the supreme law begins to seem hollow. The very meaningfulness of the Constitution comes under pressure. Instead of a high regard for constitutional values, we get disregard – the beginning of farce or tragedy.
All eyes are on the gap concerning executive power. But, virtually unnoticed, there is another growing gap between what is and what ought to be. It concerns the very first declaration – Chapter I, Article 1(1) – of the Constitution: “Malta is a democratic republic founded on work and on respect for the fundamental rights and freedoms of the individual.”
What could be going so wrong with that? Well, let’s first see what’s right.
The reason our republic is declared to be based on work is not because someone seriously proposed basing it on sloth. It’s a way of distinguishing our politics from an aristocracy, where those who rule pride themselves on not working.
‘Based on work’ is not the same as ‘based on jobs’, which would be employment. Nor is it a socialist statement because in that case we’d have – as did the constitution of the former German Democratic Republic (communist east Germany) – a reference to the glorious working class and socialism.
Rather, ‘founded on work’ means two related things. Everyone is meant to work, for it’s a republic of equals. And everyone is invited to contribute his or her work. It’s a republic based on participation.
We now have a not insignificant number of citizens with political rights but who make no real economic contribution
The Maltese Constitution, on this point, resembles Italy’s. Not all European democracies begin this way. Several states formerly under communist rule begin by exalting the nation and tracing its distinctive identity back over centuries. Several western European states begin by saying their democracy rests on political participation and popular sovereignty.
Malta’s Constitution suggests that there is an intimate relation between work (which means something more than job or employment) and the democratic character of the Republic. The welfare of the individual (rights and freedoms), the welfare of democracy and economic participation are linked.
I’d say everything we know today about individual well-being, safeguarding freedoms and sustainable development confirms that those three elements are linked in mutually reinforcing relationships.
However, three political-economic developments are now exercising pressure that is weakening those mutual relationships. They threaten to tear those three elements apart, undermining the very meaningfulness of our republic’s self-definition.
First, there’s passport sales. Yes, they’re officially called “citizenship by investment” and it’s significant that the spin attempts to keep alive a link between voting rights (citizenship) and economic participation.
Because once you strip the spin away, you have to acknowledge that – whatever the advantages of selling passports – the consequence of making passports a commodity to be traded is that we now have a not insignificant number of citizens with political rights but who make no real economic contribution; indeed, the evidence suggests they have barely any ties to the republic.
Second, and more significantly in terms of numbers, the large proportion of imported labour means that we have many people on whose work the republic is based but who do not have full political rights.
Some are EU citizens and so have some political rights. Others are not citizens at all and have no political rights. They still have their human rights, obviously, but they do not belong to the democratic republic, even if the current character of the republic depends on their contribution.
The point here is simply to note a development, not to urge instant citizenship for all. We’re still a democratic republic based on work; but those working are divided into two or three political classes in terms of participation rights.
Is the decency of a democracy sustainable in the face of such inequality? The historical record suggests not; but the record is complicated by various factors. We can be sure, though, that when a defining article of our Constitution begins not to mean quite what it says, its meaningfulness is beginning to wobble.
Third, there is an imminent development – automation of work, thanks to artificial intelligence – that will radically change the landscape of work.
A large proportion of jobs will be lost to machines. It’s not a sci-fi future. The horizon is 2030. If your children are aged between 8 and 12 today, an automated economy is what beckons when they leave school or graduate from university.
What happens then to a “democratic republic based on work”? We know what happens to a statement like that contained in Hungary’s constitution:
“We hold that the strength of community and the honour of each person are based on labour, an achievement of the human mind.”
In an automated economy, that statement would mean that community and personal honour are severely threatened. Perhaps the wobbling is already being felt, and that could be why the liberal freedoms in Hungary are also becoming shakier.
Our Constitution doesn’t say the same thing. But the imminent future does mean we need to think more seriously, deliberatively and publicly about what we understand by work and how to recognise it as a creative contribution to our democracy.
We need to do it not to stave off change but to embrace it – politically and economically – in the right way. If we ourselves change for the worse, we cannot change our Constitution for the better. The first step in the right direction is to value what we have.