The neutrality provisions in the Constitution are unlike any other aspect of our supreme law which is up for revisiting. The constitutional points that have been in the limelight are largely matters of law and rules of good governance. Whether or not the laws are defective is up for debate. They’re matters on which some international institutions feel qualified to advise on what should be adopted, while much of the Maltese citizenry does not.
The neutrality provisions are different. No one doubts that the detailed provisions, worded in defunct Cold War language, are an almost useless guide to action. They refer to a bipolar world (not to mention the drydocks then under State control) and implicitly take for granted a form of warfare that has been superseded.
Neutrality is exercised between states. Today several of the conflicts in our own neighbourhood involves non-state actors – militias, terrorists and armed criminal organisations. Nor, in the age of drones and cyberwarfare, is the line between war and peace so clear-cut anymore.
Moreover, neutrality is a political concept, not a legal one. International organisations would be arrogant to suggest what we should adopt. Neutrality does not just set the framework of foreign policy. It is also its substance. Advice on neutrality cannot be neutral. It can only be biased in favour of some international interests rather than others.
Because neutrality is political, it also is a subject about which – for or against – many ordinary members of the public care about, irrespective of how passionate they are about international affairs. They are passions that need to be kept in mind.
Finally, the actual provisions are paradoxical. They’re very detailed in what the Maltese State can or cannot do. They’re far more detailed and prescriptive than constitutions generally are. They reflect the political environment of mistrust in which the provisions were entrenched. The detail was meant to be a strait jacket on successive governments.
The provisions also speak of a pro-active commitment to peace. That’s a statement of national vocation. It means we are active pacifists. With one qualification: we’re ready to support military action approved by the UN Security Council.
But active pacifism is in an uneasy relationship with the idea that neutrality means keeping your head down. Active pacifism means that we’re enjoined to stick our neck out for peace.
Active pacifism is in an uneasy relationship with the idea that neutrality means keeping your head down
Commitment to peace is the opposite of staying out of trouble. It means being ready to mediate. Being a successful peace broker can attract the attentions of terrorists or hostile powers whose interests are undermined by peace.
We’ve seen both understandings of neutrality deployed in our public debates. Often, it has been in an ad hoc manner, giving the impression that the politicians were working out principle as they went along.
Surely it’s time for clarification. The Constitution, especially its statements of principle, should be a guide for action, not a prompt for ad libbers.
There are three basic decisions to be taken. First, should the entire set of provisions be dropped – no neutrality or qualified pacifism mentioned at all? Or should the values informing the current provisions be kept even if the wording is updated?
I’m all for retaining the values and rethinking the national vocation for our times. So, for those like me, there’s a second question. Should the changes to the current provisions be minimal or maximal?
Minimal means you just delete what no longer applies and keep the rest with some editing. Unfortunately, I think that will rob what’s left of almost all its meaning. What would neutrality mean, shorn of the Cold War context? What would an active commitment to peace mean, without some elaboration?
A maximal re-write would be a rewriting from scratch, guided by the spirit but unconstrained by the present wording. In my view, it should offer guidelines and principles, but not detailed prescriptions. It ought to retain the qualified pacifism but elaborate it to mean that the country is actively committed to regional and global security.
Perhaps it should make clear that it’s committed to the security of peoples, not States – to show that we are not committed to the security of tyrants. Certainly, it should elaborate that security is to be understood to include political, economic and environmental dimensions.
An elaboration in this direction is congruent with Malta’s international contributions since Independence. It’s congruent with our strategic interests. It addresses our contemporary world, with the salient challenges offered by non-state actors, informal warfare, climate change and mass migration.
Strictly speaking, within such a framework, neutrality can be dropped. (Because it would have no independent meaning. When our politicians are asked what it means, they would have to point to the rest of what the Constitution says.) But retaining neutrality – so as not to disturb those passionately attached to it – will do no harm. It would not be in conflict with the rest.
That’s it as far as the re-write is concerned. But I spoke of three decisions. The third has to do with deciding to put our money where our mouth is.
A country like Sweden shows its commitment to international development not just by its earnestness but also by its expertise in the field – an expertise in which it has investedby building organisations, funding research and training personnel. Likewise for the claims of countries like France and Spain to be leaders in pan-Mediterranean cooperation.
If we want to be a country that, sometimes, others turn to in the interests of peace, then we have to invest in institutions, research and the training of personnel – in mediation, in crisis response and conflict prevention, in scenario planning. A well-meaning, self-confident president or prime minister won’t cut it on his or her own. The self-confidence would simply betray people out of their depth.
Of course, if we’re content with having a constitution that simply says the right things, we can decide to invest nothing. So long as we’re clear that, on this issue, we’re embracing a constitution that’s no better than a best man’s wedding toast – bubbly words of good cheer that leave the struggles and compromises in years ahead for others to take care of.