Labour’s Long Goodbye

Labour’s decline has been years in the making, but its internal fractures are now impossible to gloss over. The party is split between those still loyal to Joseph Muscat, who last year reminded Robert Abela of his lingering power, and those who see Muscat as a liability. The latter group is itself divided—some still back Abela, but many others have begun preparing for life after his leadership. Figures like Alex Agius Saliba, Ian Borg and Silvio Schembri are likely sharpening their knives, knowing that Abela’s position is weak and his time may be running out.

Adding to this instability is Malta’s political cycle. Governments tend to last around 10 to 15 years before the pendulum swings. Labour has been in power since 2013, and the signs of fatigue are unmistakable. Corruption scandals, a loss of vision, and mounting arrogance mirror the PN’s collapse in the 2000s. Back then, the public was fed up with the PN but couldn’t stomach Labour. Today, it’s the reverse.

While the PN under Bernard Grech has made some progress in rehabilitation, it remains uninspiring. To his credit, Grech has brought much-needed stability to the party and done significant work to heal internal divisions that plagued the PN for years. These efforts have provided the party with a stronger foundation and a sense of cohesion that was sorely lacking. However, Labour’s best bet for survival isn’t its own strength but the PN’s continued failure to convince the electorate it’s a viable alternative. A Labour win in 2027 would likely be less about public confidence in the government and more about voters rejecting the Opposition.

The arrival of two new political parties this year underscores the public’s desperation for change. Yet Malta’s history of third-party failures looms large. Without a coherent vision and the ability to appeal beyond niche constituencies, these movements risk becoming little more than pressure groups. Still, their emergence highlights the central issue of Maltese politics today: neither the government, the Opposition, nor anyone else is able to articulate a compelling vision for the country.

A Fractured Global Landscape

This political malaise in Malta is set against a backdrop of unprecedented global volatility. The promises of economic globalisation are seemingly unravelling, exposing growing inequality and political instability. The rise of transformative technologies, from artificial intelligence to social media, has outpaced regulation and amplified societal divisions. Across the world, trust in institutions is crumbling, and leadership is lacking.

Malta is not immune. While its small size and tight-knit social structures provide some resilience, economic pressures are mounting, and public trust is fragile. Inflation, inequality, and a growing perception that government policies benefit the well-connected rather than the public are eroding faith in leadership.

Social media is a powerful equaliser, giving the public a voice and enabling grassroots movements to hold power to account in ways the traditional media can’t. Governments have long mastered the art of countering damaging stories through vague press releases, diversionary tactics, and well-placed rebuttals. However, these strategies fall flat in the face of social media ridicule—memes and online mockery have become an unpredictable, potent force. Funny is funny, whether or not you believe your own spin.

For instance, the online reaction to the Gaza genocide has overwhelmingly rejected the approved narratives of mainstream media, with videos and commentary amplifying the voices of those on the ground rather than official statements. Similarly, the assassination of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson was met with online ridicule and celebration, even as authorities repeatedly insisted that the suspected assassin should not be seen as a hero. These examples show how the digital public square can not only challenge official narratives but also create its own, sometimes deeply polarising, versions of events.

Yet the same tools could fracture society further, as algorithms amplify polarising narratives and global issues trickle into the domestic discourse.

Elon Musk’s takeover of Twitter was founded on the premise of creating a digital town square where all ideas could be aired freely, without censorship. He wasn’t wrong—outright censorship often backfires, creating intrigue and mistrust. But the problem isn’t just about silencing voices; it’s also about amplifying them. Musk’s ability to elevate certain narratives while suppressing others is just as troubling as outright bans.

Musk’s current campaign to destabilise European governments—presumably part of an effort to bolster Donald Trump’s chances in 2024 by stacking the deck with sympathetic world leaders—is a stark example.

Other platform owners may be less overt, but their influence is no less significant. Recently, Mark Zuckerberg admitted during a Joe Rogan interview that Meta had been pressured by the Biden administration to censor content related to COVID-19. This acknowledgment highlights the troubling extent to which social media platforms can be swayed by government directives.

Media organisations worldwide are grappling with the fallout from trying to cover the Gaza genocide objectively, only to face similar censorship pressures. The fact that these companies are owned by individuals with no meaningful oversight makes them vulnerable to the views and beliefs of their CEOs—or to the influence of states, spy agencies, or other powerful entities capable of applying pressure.

Social media platforms can amplify the good or the bad of society at the whims of their owners. There is no oversight, no checks to ensure these tools serve the common good. We are at the mercy of a new class of media barons, and that is deeply unsettling.

This influence extends far beyond national borders. In a world marked by fragile institutions and polarised societies, the lack of accountability in digital media is a recipe for chaos. Malta, though small, is not insulated from these forces.

What Comes Next?

It’s not all bad news. Some ministers within the Labour government are working to address the country’s challenges. Robert Abela has enacted some meaningful reforms, and Malta’s economic performance remains a relative success story. However, these efforts are routinely overshadowed by corruption scandals and the government’s unwillingness to confront wrongdoing head-on. The Clayton Bartolo scandal, for instance, has further eroded public trust and alienated voters—much like the PN’s arrogance before 2013.

Labour finds itself in a hole, and 2025 should be the year it finally stops digging. To have any hope of retaining power, the party must acknowledge its flaws, address its shortcomings, and embrace meaningful renewal. Yet, even in the best-case scenario, this will likely only delay the inevitable. To truly restore Malta’s reputation and meet the demands of a changing world, the country needs leadership that is fundamentally different from what we have today.

For the Opposition, this year is a test of its ability to offer more than just the default alternative. Bernard Grech and the PN must demonstrate they can chart a vision that resonates with a population desperate for change.

The main political challenge of our time is the absence of a coherent vision for Malta’s future—whether from the government, the Opposition, or any third party. Addressing this leadership vacuum should be the public’s ultimate goal for 2025.

Malta has spent the past decade riding the wave of economic growth while clinging to the same old corrupt governance. While this was a welcome change from the stagnation of the preceding decade, it is no longer enough. As a nation, we now face a defining choice: continue with another decade of mediocrity and corruption, or demand better and aim higher.

This decision isn’t just about which party holds power. It’s about the kind of country Malta wants to become in an increasingly unstable and unpredictable world.

The global landscape is entering an era of profound uncertainty, where leadership and vision are not just desirable—they are critical. Whether Malta rises to this challenge or succumbs to deeper instability will depend on the decisions made this year. The stakes have never been higher.