The Labour Party has a very complicated relationship with culture. Decades of hardline socialism (bordering on Communism) under Mintoff’s rule have turned Labour’s cultural policy into a utilitarian one. Art is at the service of ‘the people’. Unlike the Nationalist Party, there was never much place for ‘self-expression’ in Labour’s cultural policy. Art was to be at the service of party ideals, and nothing epitomises that belief more than the musical Ġensna (1982). Labour also never shied away from populist art, in itself not necessarily a bad thing, but one fraught with perils.
On the other hand, culture has been weaponised by the elitist and cultured Nationalist brigade to different ends. ‘Lejburisti’ (as they love to snobbishly refer to their rivals) are uncultured and uncouth – the great unwashed masses, and the barbarians ready to dismantle their intellectual empire. In the Nationalist credo, you cannot be a socialist and artist. Art is about individuality, and it can only be good art if that individual happens to be a devoted Nazzjonalist.
And yet, despite the two polarised approaches, they share one common element. Distrust. After all, the PN can hardly be credited with the emancipation of culture. Let us not forget the monumental fiascos of the artistic censorship debate (the play Stitching and the short story Li Tkisser Issewwi). At a time when the Nationalist government was allowing unregulated ‘massage parlours’ to mushroom all over the island, they were also busy playing the morality card and expressing shock at the word ‘tits’ like adolescent boys.
Despite the polarised approaches, there is common ground between the two, and that is a deep distrust of culture, and by extension, of artists. Artists are self-centred, prone to drama, volatile, critical, and often just plain annoying. They need to be guided and reprimanded, like naughty school children. They might have passion, but their IQ is deficient in practicalities and reason. What is worse, artists have a habit of pointing out what is wrong with the world. They might write songs about corruption, or plays about nepotism. Artists might draw satirical cartoons, and film-makers might make unsavoury documentaries about contemporary life. Culture is fine, but artists are a thorn.
Back in 2013, with the Valletta 2018 European Capital of Culture looming over the horizon, Muscat’s Labour movement needed artists. The whole censorship debate had turned the artistic community against the Nationalist Government. What’s more, artists endorsed Labour’s liberal agenda: they were in favour of divorce, gay rights, legalisation of marijuana, and more. They also had a valuable resource: an audience made up of Nationalists and floaters who could be persuaded to switch sides. Of course, back then Muscat was very careful to hide the darker side to his plan: unbridled construction, environmental destruction, amoral economics, etc.
What follows does not need re-telling. Suffice it to say that by the infamous 2018, we were all about culture. But as the years rolled on, and Valletta 2018 came and went (rather unceremoniously), things turned sour. The revelations of the Panama Papers shook Maltese politics, and artists were once again questioning the status quo. As Labour lost more and more support from within the artists’ ranks, it had to resort to inglorious cultural idols to organise mass cultural events, as well as an unhealthy arts funding system that encouraged most artists to become dependent on state funds.
So when Covid-19 hit, the local arts scene was an unhealthy mix of small struggling independent artists, and a loyal brigade of funding-dependent artists. Of course, there is nothing wrong with arts funding per se, but only if it operates within a healthy cultural scene where artists are mostly self-supporting. I have seen far too many artists applying for every possible fund, and literally begging for a state salary. In some cases it was so bad that even government institutions themselves started applying for state funding – a situation which is surreal to say the least.
It was with this baggage that the government rolled out its plan to help artists during Covid-19: funds. It is imperative to point out that that initial cash injection was vital. As short-term plans go, that was a good plan. But as the months wore on it became increasingly clear that most cultural institutions were unable to adapt or even cope. Simply dishing out money is not a viable long term solution. It also became increasingly clear that culture had become a mere nuisance. Anything that did not support big businesses became a nuisance.
One would argue that public health is far more important than culture in a pandemic, and I would agree whole-heartedly. The problem is how the authorities have dealt with the situation. Instead of taking these unprecedented circumstances to reinvent ourselves afresh, we got the same rehashed plaudits and proposals: ‘best in Europe’, ‘fastest growing economy’, ‘surplus’, ‘wealth’. That might have worked in 2013, but not in 2021.
In the space of less than a decade we have had our financial reputation irreparably damaged in the international sphere, our legal systems challenged, a government unable to finish a full term in office despite the historic victories, and a dark realisation that we are not the best nor have we ever been. And that is where culture comes in again. While the government is busy counting our losses in euros and cents, artists have been assessing it in far broader and often more tragic terms.
We’ve lost our pride, our way of life, our peace of mind, our confidence, our quality of life…and the list goes on. What’s more, even die-hard Labourites know this to be true, and the only reason that Labour will win the next election is not through sheer political brilliance, but simply because the opposition is in such a pitiable state of disarray that voting Nationalist is not an option, and many people are still too scared to trust a third party. And that is a fact that artists constantly remind the government of.
So the contradictory, messy, and haphazard re-opening of the cultural sector has nothing to do with public health concerns. It is simply a puerile knee-jerk reaction by a Government that mistrusts and resents the sector. This is not about crowds, but about denying work to a whole sector – because work gives people dignity and purpose. It is nothing more than a bullying teacher punishing an overly inquisitive student simply because he can.
What is mind boggling is that in doing so it is undermining its own institutions. The latest saga has thrown whole festivals and cultural programmes into disarray. Many have taken admirable steps to try and salvage as much as they could, but ultimately they too have their limits. The losses (artistic and financial) are immeasurable. While crowds gather on beaches, and people party in restaurants, with no controls or restrictions, audiences and producers have to endure humiliating checks.
And despite the many appeals, and proposals, the government remains obstinate. Different institutions and authorities give conflicting rules and regulations, something that is frustrating to artists but in reality only projects a shoddier image of an already troubled government. Of course the government can continue being stubborn, and punish the whole sector, but I would be very cautious about punishing those who have the power to rewrite history.
MużiKartI 