A few months ago, I was jolted out of my early morning daze by a photo of Environment Minister Aaron Farrugia cosying up to the eminent Joseph Portelli during the celebrations for Ħamrun Spartans’ league triumph.
In days where the connivance between politics and business has brought a thick stream of murk to the surface, Portelli’s arm around Farrugia’s shoulder should have set alarms screaming. As Farrugia knows too well, Portelli is much more than the chief Spartan: he’s also the biggest and most unstoppable developer on the islands, one who gets to call the shots in his sleep; more like a chief Barbarian.
But, for a multitude of reasons beyond the national sport of turning a blind eye, there was no major outcry. For one, Farrugia’s colleagues haven’t exactly been exemplary either, as leaked chats (of all varieties) between politicians and business people seem to make the headlines week in, week out. Secondly, expecting this political class to keep its distance from big business’ pockets is a bit like expecting tuna to survive in a desert.
The opposition, after its embarrassing tiff with (former?) donor Silvio Debono in 2017, prefers staying silently in its pond instead of denouncing big business.
It’s a tough gig being Malta’s environment minister, more so in Farrugia’s shoes. Having inherited the portfolio from the less-than-hyperactive José Herrera and taking over the Planning Authority from Ian Borg’s messy stewardship, the new minister stepped on his predecessor’s landmines barely a month after his swearing in, when farmers in Magħtab blocked the Coast Road in protest at plans to extend the landfill.
The plans had been laid out during Herrera’s term and involved the take-up of huge swathes of arable land.
People who know the area smelt something more than the stench of toxic fumes and some hinted at a ploy which would see the lands around Magħtab taken over for rock-cutting.
Minutes after Farrugia tweeted his defence of the project as a necessity, PM Robert Abela suddenly descended upon Magħtab to defuse the situation. The incinerator was proposed instead of the landfill, thus sparing more acres of precious soil. Less than a fortnight later, Wasteserv CEO Tonio Montebello (and the rest of the board) resigned their posts in a move to “professionalise” the board.
Following this uncertain start, Farrugia went on to finally reform the much-maligned fuel stations policy, thus putting an end to more ODZ fuel stations. It was a much more promising start than expected, for here was a minister who did deliver something within his first 100 days.
Sadly, his train ran out of steam or, rather, it swapped tracks.
There was effectively little progress in other areas, especially when it comes to the Planning Authority.
For one, the aggressive onslaught of development has been constant and unflinching even during the pandemic and there is no foreseeable respite for our islands. Shocking permits are issued every week and Farrugia, like many ministers before him, has been largely ineffective in bringing vision, logic and consistency to a beleaguered authority whose only role is to rubberstamp any sort of money into the economy, no questions asked.
Aaron Farrugia’s train ran out of steam or, rather, it swapped tracks- Wayne Flask
Farrugia’s doings and statements elsewhere have been nothing short of confusing. For one, he defended his district rival’s plan to privatise Marsascala Bay and turn it into a floating garage for less than 800 affluent yacht owners and, incredibly, compared it to a project of national importance – the airport.
Elsewhere, he signed off on changes to local plans to the advantage of the Corinthia Group and increased building heights in Mrieħel and Marsa, justifying his contradictory pro-business stance as a “balance” between commercial interests and the environment.
At the same time, he indirectly acknowledges that the time for balance is past or, at the very least, that compensation is long overdue as he champions the reduction in emissions by 2030.
That is a noble mission but it jars loudly with the government’s reluctance to reduce private car usage, its insistence to develop vertically and build roads everywhere, its inexistent preservation of farmland and its diabolical moves to avoid any sort of environmental enforcement.
In fact, while Clint Camilleri’s hoard of armed PhDs roam the remaining countryside, shooting birds, flamingos and ramblers alike, the environment minister was one (visibly uncomfortable) signatory of the deal handing Aħrax and Miżieb over to the FKNK. He did get his army of all but three rangers to patrol these areas, the equivalent of sending boy scouts to police Nagorno-Karabakh with a chicken drumstick in their holster.
Talk of enforcement brings me back to the Special One, he who has recently been “caught” building illegally in an ODZ in Qala. Portelli had no reason to blush awkwardly, bullishly countering that “he will eventually get the permit” and “will gladly pay a fine”.
That’s the sound of a man who not only knows what cards he’s holding but that he actually owns the table.
The minister, Portelli’s grip heavy on his shoulder, had nothing to say.
Farrugia will have to forgive the cynicism of many who think that new gardens with the inevitable landscaped grass and concrete pathways are no compensation for the losses suffered at the hands of people like Portelli and others.
He may well cut a desolate figure in Cabinet, caught in between the electoral necessity of walking the line and the overlooked duty of guarding the environment.
In any case, as the noise from the launch of his soft green initiatives fails to drown out the harrowing noise of excavators, the embrace with “Joe” Portelli is a stark reminder that we will always be second-rate citizens, especially to those we elect.