Requiem for a dream What a disappointment the European Union is turning out to be. And how fast the dream ended, too. Malta has only been a member for a measly five years – less than a quarter of the time the PN has been in power, by the way – and already around 90% of what many of us expected has evaporated in the cold light of day. Let’s start with hunting: an automatic bone of contention, in a country where the number of police officers assigned to control this controversial activity – as well as monitor the entire countryside for other things, too – represents less than 0.002% of the total hunting population. Well, many moons ago, an ideal compromise appeared to be in sight. In private home visits before the 2003 referendum – and then again before the election a month later – one Nationalist candidate after another came knocking at our doors, parachuting onto our rooftops, and slipping their leaflets into our letter-boxes... all repeating the same general message: that with Malta “safely anchored in the European port” (to resuscitate one of the more popular mantras at the time) everything would slowly fall into place. Ho, ha hum. Of course, the same PN candidates were simultaneously promising the hunters the very opposite; they told them that the EU respected national traditions like hunting and trapping; that exceptions could always be made, like they were made in other departments; and – in an example of precisely the sort of political philistinism the EU was supposed to excise once and for all – they hinted that an “arrangement” of some kind would always be possible. Well, we now know it was all hogwash in the end... but do you know what? I for one believed it. Not so much out of unswerving faith in the intrinsic honesty of Maltese politicians, or the undying wisdom of EU Commissioners... but because – for reasons which I admit escape me today – I assumed (foolishly) that the Europe Union would indeed turn out to be the serious institution it was always painted out to be. It was clear from even a cursory glance at those leaflets that for all their fine talk about “progress” and “softening the impact of membership”, all our chief negotiators were really interested in was maintaining the status quo. In fact, they performed astonishing feats of contortionism in their efforts to withhold from Maltese citizens any of the actual material benefits of membership. On the environmental front alone, Malta applied for (and very often obtained) exceptions and derogations from all manner of European Directives: all supposedly there to safeguard our health and well-being. And even now, five years into the great European adventure, this sort of reverse negotiation continues unabated. We are still begging to be absolved of all our environmental obligations... including air pollution, which is where we lag the furthest behind. But back to hunting. As you may or may not remember, two years ago the European Commission made a whole song and dance about our spring hunting season. Contrary to what had previously been reported in those MiC leaflets, it appeared for a while that spring hunting was not actually permissible within the ‘European port’; and for a while it did seem as though things were heading in the promised direction. But, true to its established credentials as an environmentally delinquent administration, the government of Gonzi (composed chiefly of lawyers, in case no one’s noticed) moved with lightning speed and dazzling efficiency to subvert this impression, and once again withhold from Maltese citizens all the promised benefits of EU membership. You know what? It’s starting to look like we never sailed into that port at all. And judging by the most recent developments on the European environment front, I’m not even sure if I still want to. You see, it’s not just a case of Malta using its twisted legal genius to secure a handful of nasty concessions that the European Union should never, ever have granted. Oh no. It’s that the EU itself is fast turning out to be just as grubby, just as dirty, just as slovenly and just as greedy as the worst we have ever experienced in Maltese politics. My guess is that Fisheries Commissioner Joe Borg, with the help of Maltese industry consultants and a few other twisted legal minds, will carry on doing what Maltese politicians have always done best. He will somehow find a way to ‘arrange’ things for the benefit of his friends in the local fisheries sector; while creating the semblance of a ‘compromise’ designed to ‘protect jobs’. The upshot? A fish as noble and spectacular as the Bluefin tuna will have vanished forever in the space of little more than a decade... and with it the livelihoods of all the Mediterranean’s fishermen in one fell swoop. And all for what, you might be asking? Who stands to gain? Who reaps the benefits of the hard work of a Commissioner whose salary and pension are paid for out of European taxpayers’ hard-earned cash?
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