Random reflections

 

2.The 'conversation' is an end in itself. It exists in a different realm, an enchanted one, creating a connection between different universes and the multitudes inhabiting them. It is alchemy, not the sort which seeks to create pure gold, but which one which thrives in imperfections.  Feels like being in a good existential French movie.  

5.The modern Malta I love: a Brazilian, an Argentinian, a Romanian, a Serb, a Latvian, and a  Maltese sitting around a table celebrating Orthodox Easter and talking about the good things in life. Feels like being in a good Spanish  (Almodóvar like) movie.  The good things in life.

7. Spending time with a dog is a wonderful learning experience. I never had a dog. When I was a child used to be scared of them.  I am also told that as a baby an over enthusiastic dog called spotty had jumped on me.  What striked me most about this experience is that dogs have a personality.  They have their own networks (of smells) and they have  more comfortable  relationship with shit and corporal smells.  They also communicate emotions and affection, which may be for purpose of a reward but how delighted I was when Asti came next to me in the middle of the night.  Then there is the sociological aspect; how dog people interact in parallel to dog interactions.  But the most surprising thing is that you can talk to a dog.  Not that the dog understands human language.  But neither does the dog ignore it.   In some instances you get the sensation that the dog is responding to your thoughts and feelings. Then finally there is the leash. Can't but admire the rare moment of anarchistic refusal to follow the lead. Of course part of it is human projection.  But there is something beautiful in the relationship, the tensions which underline affection, protection and freedom....of course not dominance in my case, pity the dogs owned by bigots and fascists.  

12. Schrodinger's cat in an inbox on an iphone. 

13. "In Between Days” and in between things. Love that song by The Cure. I have always felt drawn to stand in between things. The ambiguity of that space is challenging and intellectually stimulating, especially when you are at intersections pregnant with possibilities, points where life branches out like roots and mycelium. Even in politics, I have always liked that in-between space between socialism and anarchism and their various derivatives.  And while I can feel passionately about my beliefs, I always start from self doubt and irony.  That is also why I see friendships and romance as a spectrum of different ways of togetherness and that every meaningful relationship is a world of its own. The same applies to sexual identity. There is a whole spectrum even within being heterosexual and having a penis, apart from the fact that “heterosexuality” and “maleness” are socially constructed. Being me cannot be reduced to being a male who is attracted to females, especially since attraction itself exists on a spectrum. 

15. Chunking Express  (1994) is a cinematic embodiment of Zygmunt Bauman’s concept of "liquid love"—the idea that in modern, fast-paced, urban environments, human bonds become fragile, ephemeral, and easily replaced. But it touches another level; the value of ephemeral connections.  Wong Kar-wai finds a strange, melancholy beauty in liquidity. He suggests that if everything is destined to expire (like pineapple cans), then the briefest moments of kindness and connection carry an almost magical weight.

18. I think the most radical choice in life is to be real in all circumstances. But I am aware that the borderline between the act and the real is blurred. In a way, authenticity can be the most deceptive act. We have seen this in far-right politics, where ignorant bar talk becomes a badge of authenticity. Bashing intellectuals as elitist is part of the game. It is because sophistication, intellect and good taste can be threatening to people living very dull lives. Theirs is not rebellion; it is just angst.

Sure, it becomes even more difficult to strike an elusive balance between the real and the act when you have some sort of public persona to keep up, and you are perceived by others on the basis of what you write, sometimes on matters about which you have absolutely no strong feelings (for example, Maltese politics). Moreover, what does it mean to be real and authentic, especially considering that I am a multitude of contradictory things? How can you convey authentic feelings when you lean towards the in-between, the complex and the undefined?

One can say that authenticity boils down to actions, not words. True, but actions are also part of the act. This brings me to the question of how to cope with the dissonance between the self with which you are most at ease and the other aspects of life you perform to survive. There is also the problem of which self to show to different people.  A major difficulty is dealing with people pleasers, who deflect any attempt at authenticity, albeit have to admit there is a fine line between being pleasant and being dishonest.

There are some people with whom I instinctively show the side of myself with which I am most at ease. That feels great, even if it does not come without problems, because it means exposing my awkwardness. So, to some extent, solitude provides a comfort zone. But since the shrink told me to get out of my comfort zone, I am a bit lost.

31. There are mornings when you wake up with a different kind of lightness, one that comes from self-awareness and submission not to self-imposed rules but to life itself — a slow lightness that does not yearn but simply feels: a gentle melancholy. 

Genocide, Blood libel, and the Misuse of Antisemitism

'Blood libel' depicted in this scene was based on a fabricated lie that Jewish people used the blood of Christians in religious rituals, especially in the preparation of Passover bread which served as a pretext for pogroms and persecutions.

The terror attack in New York targeting two Israeli diplomats must be condemned as an act of political violence that has no place in democratic societies. What follows should not be misconstrued as an apology or justification. But such acts occur within a context that needs to be understood.

It is not antisemitism that fuels these heinous acts of terror, but the genocide itself—which has also endangered the lives of Jewish people. The scenes from Gaza are stomach-churning. The impact on the mental health of people—not necessarily Arabs or Muslims—who feel helpless in the face of this horror cannot be underestimated.

Yes, the Holocaust and the fight against antisemitism should define our political struggles. That is precisely why Israel must be stopped. Using this case to criminalise opposition to genocide only rubs salt into a festering wound. What is antisemitic is to conflate Jewish identity with support for genocidal and apartheid policies—a conflation particularly common among elements of the right who support Israel. As a historian am also appalled by Netanyahu attribution of the terror attack to “blood libels against Israel”. Am offended because a heinous anti semitic crime whose victims deserve respect is being invoked to justify a clampdown on critics who are denouncing a real crime.

My fear is that the genocide is triggering both antisemitism (which remains alive and well, even among those who claim to hate Jews but support settlers and colonists) and other, harder-to-define forms of political violence. Genocide without a response can also distort our moral compass, creating a misguided imperative that, while not necessarily antisemitic, can still be deadly. Of course, latent and subtle antisemitism can also be at play, which is why the pro-Palestinian movement should confront this issue head-on, showing zero tolerance towards any sign of anti-Jewish hatred.

I say this because the term antisemitism is being misused—exploiting a heinous act committed by an individual with tenuous links to left-wing organisations—to criminalise an entire movement. Genocide is not a word to be taken lightly. Accepting that it is happening without responding to it creates a profound crisis, including serious mental health struggles for those watching these events unfold on their screens.

That is why, in the initial stages of this war, I was reluctant to use the term—fully aware of its gravity. Yet with 54,000 people massacred, clear signs that mass starvation is being used as a weapon, and an evident intent to displace an entire population, one cannot escape the conclusion that the State of Israel is committing a crime against humanity.

Over the past decades, wars and bombardments have been justified under the pretext of humanitarian intervention—not only in the face of genocide (as in Kosovo), but also to prevent it (as was the case in Libya). The contrast with the Western response to what is unfolding in Gaza is so stark, it is mentally disturbing.

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Voting for genocide?

Irrespective of the Israeli singer—who witnessed and lived through a horrific war crime—and the song itself (unremarkable, but not bad), it was disturbing that a significant number of Europeans voted for a song representing a state currently committing extensive crimes against humanity, including the use of starvation as a weapon of war and the killing of 54,000 people.

Just imagine if Russia had been allowed to participate while bombing Ukraine and was close to winning the contest. Thankfully, we were spared that embarrassment because Russia was excluded. Had that happened, some might have questioned the algorithms that made such a result possible.  

But perhaps this also shows that support for Israel goes deeper and extends beyond  European Union officials and national governments.  Still one also has to account for the nature of the vote which is  more indicative of a solid cohort of support in a context of 'diffuse alternatives'.  Furthermore people who wanted to make a political statement by supporting the Israeli entry were more likely to vote 20 times than others who were simply enjoying the night.  Moreover opinion polls in the United Kingdom which gave Israel 12- full points show that only 17% say that their sympathies lie with Israel in the current war in Gaza while 26% sympathise with the Palestinians.  

Still, the fact that a solid cohort continues to support Israel despite the genocide unfolding on our screens—in a context where one would have to be blind not to see it—is disturbing in itself. It partly reflects the rightward drift across Europe. Maybe Malta’s entry—which embodied the kitschy, queer, Euro-pop aesthetic—would have fared better a decade ago, when that vibe held more political currency.

So, should one read too much into a song contest? Maybe not. But it is the closest thing to a European fun night—a moment of collective attention. And for that reason alone, it matters.

The Aesthetics of Power: Lessons from Mujica and Francis for the Trumps of This World

"As soon as politicians start climbing up the ladder, they suddenly become kings. I don't know how it works, but what I do know is that republics came into being to ensure that no one is above anyone else... The pomp of office is like something left over from a feudal past: you need a palace, a red carpet, a lot of people behind you saying, 'Yes, sir.' I think all of that is awful."

José "Pepe" Mujica practised what he preached. He did not advocate self-mortification, nor did he glorify poverty—which he wanted to see abolished. But he understood the link between capitalism and consumerism, which ultimately impoverishes humanity and destroys nature.

He eschewed the presidential palace in favour of the farmhouse where he grew flowers. In 2022, he told Al Jazeera that opulence can “divorce” presidents from their people:

“I believe that politicians should live like the majority of their people, not like the privileged minority.”

In this regard, Mujica shared the same approach as Pope Francis, who, unlike his predecessors (and successor), eschewed living in the papal residence and opted to stay in a suite at the Vatican guesthouse.

Some would argue that as long as politicians bring about positive change, they are entitled to material wealth that reflects their status. There's a case to be made when one considers how public service wages compare to those offered by corporations. One can even argue that an underpaid public service becomes a breeding ground for corruption. For example, in Malta we have a situation where ministers are paid less than their underlings who run public authorities. Moreover, the defence of the common good also requires recruiting the best minds—often in a context where those minds can earn far more serving the same corporations that undermine the public good.

Still, there is a strong argument that political leaders are moral leaders who should lead by example—and that opulence itself is the perfect breeding ground for corruption and incestuous ties between politicians and the super-rich. No wonder some  politicians (including our own Joseph Muscat) are so attracted to the Gulf states. No wonder Trump feels so much at home being feted in the palaces of emirs and sheikhs.

When accepting public office, politicians have a civic and republican duty towards those who elected them—to serve, not to rule. In this sense, their lifestyle and wealth are matters of public interest. So yes, let's ensure they are paid enough to fulfil their duties—and I wouldn't expect them to live like Francis or Mujica (even if it’s a big plus when they choose to do so voluntarily). But any manifestation of opulence, and any business dealings while in office, should be scorned and rebuked. This has nothing to do with appearing smart, looking good, or enjoying life. What is disturbing are politicians who project power by flaunting a lifestyle that affirms their success to ordinary people—who are then expected to admire and adore them.