It’s a strange thing, that in a country so used to “bombi” – fireworks displays, fireworks factories, letter bombs and the archway leading into Floriana, to mention but a few – there remain a few myths that are impossible to explode.

One of these revolves around our glorious national excuse for insanity: general electiona. For the past seven weeks or so, we have constantly been bombarded with the message that the country is now in “election mode”. It is fast becoming a mantra among the people whose job it is to tell us what to think, and how to think it. Listen out for any or all of the following turns of phrase: “With an election in the offing”, “an election around the corner”, “the electorate will soon be called upon to decide”, “the campaign has begun in earnest”, “the race is on”, “the end is nigh”, “the die is cast”, “the fat is in the fire”, “the excrement has hit the fan”, and many, many more.

Right. Excuse me for daring to question the unquestionable, but: my desktop calendar tells me it is the first week of October 2007… and I’ve never known my desktop calendar to lie. Meanwhile, Electoral Law – though I can’t exactly vouch for its honesty – informs us that the very latest an election can possibly be held is the last week of August 2008.
That’s 11 whole months… 330 days… almost an entire year. And granted, that’s the very latest an election can be held – a more conservative estimate would be next June: in nine months’ time.
In this scenario, a woman could conceivably find out she is pregnant today, go through with the pregnancy, give birth, get herself discharged from hospital, and still make it to the polling station in time to vote.
This, then, is what they actually mean by “in the offing”, “around the corner”, and “looming large on the horizon”. But no matter. Malta is very clearly in “election mode”, even if the election itself may still be one fifth of an electoral term away. How do I know? Simple. Because the entire country has inexplicably ground to a halt, and… this is the important part… nobody seems to see anything even remotely unusual.

Yes, indeed. “Election mode” is nothing more than a magnificent excuse for all the country’s decision-taking entities to simply stop taking any decisions at all. And rather than stamp our feet and roar in apoplectic fury against the plainly ridiculous state of national somnambulism, we all seem perfectly content to go along with the charade.

A couple of examples before proceeding to more important matters. Some of you may have noticed – but then again, maybe not – that the PBS Editorial Board currently lacks a chairman. The most recent in a long line of previous short-lived incumbents – a certain John Camilleri – resigned three weeks ago, citing all the usual reasons we have come to expect from outgoing chairmen in this country (i.e., the unbearable impossibility of actually co-existing with a certain minister whose name is Gatt. Austin Gatt). Theoretically at least, this means that there is no single person responsible for the standards of editorial content of any of the programmes aired on the national station. And yes, I know it doesn’t really make a difference in practice – editorial standards and PBS being two entirely unrelated concepts – but then again: is this normal? Is this desirable? Is this acceptable? Is it even sane?

The other day I discussed this very point with a number of people who like to think they know a thing or two about politics. “Yes, but of course they won’t appoint a new chairman right now,” I was instantly informed.
“Why not?” I ventured to ask… and the look I received was one of pity and horror, with some withering contempt thrown in for good measure.
“What planet are you living on?” came the astonished reply. “Don’t you know we’re in ‘election mode’? There’s no way a new PBS editorial board chairman will be appointed with an election around the corner.”
“I’m aware of that. But my question was… WHY?”
“What do you mean, why? Because… because… there’s an election, for heaven’s sake. The race is on. The campaign has begun in earnest. The die is cast. The electorate will soon be called upon to decide. What’s so difficult to understand?”

Ah yes, how silly of me, I forgot. Very soon, we may (or may not) be asked our opinion on which of two lamentably uninspiring political parties will get to enjoy the next five-year stranglehold over parliament. And this automatically implies that the State broadcaster should do without an official responsible for the editorial content of its programmes.
Why do the words “non sequitur” automatically spring to mind? Perhaps because there is some truth in the interstellar question quoted above. Perhaps because I really was intended for delivery to another planet, but got sent here by mistake after the Celestial Postal Service was privatised. If so, you can rest assured that the planet in question would have been one in which the date of an election would have little or no bearing on the government’s decision to appoint a blinking editorial board chairman for the national station. I mean, honestly: why on earth, or any other planet, should it?

By the same token, outgoing MEPA chairman Andrew Calleja – whose term expires in three weeks’ time – will almost certainly not be replaced before the next election. What, are you mad? Appoint someone responsible for environmental planning, at a time when an election may or may not be held? Can’t you see the contradiction in terms?
And in the case of the Auditor-General, the absurdity is even greater. In this instance, we did get a decision –to reappoint the same person for a third term, even though this possibility is specifically prohibited by the Constitution. Which theoretically makes it illegal. Which would be considered utterly unacceptable… but only four years out of five.

One final observation, and that’s it: I’m off to the see the wizard. The subject is MEPA (Or was that MYOPIA? Can’t remember now…) but whatever this fine institution is called, it seems to have defied all pre-electoral expectations and – horror of horrors – actually taken a decision.
To revoke the Ulysses lodge redevelopment application.
That’s right, “with an election round the corner”.
And… great googly-moogly! It seems we are talking about a MEPA decision which is not entirely catastrophic for a change.

But even as the environmentalists declare victory and pop their champagne bottles in unison, something, somewhere, fills me with a certain disquietude.
What follows might be construed as nit-picking, but some of those nits are seriously getting on my nerves. Here goes:

One: The original 1970s Ulysses Lodge permit was for tea-rooms. Somehow, this metamorphosed into a development permit for 23 villas with swimming pools – 15 of which lay outside the footprint – on a tract of land 34 per cent larger than the original application. And yet, MEPA has all along argued that there was no change to the size of the footprint (using the phrase “disturbed land” to justify the accretion).
Two: The official reason to revoke the permit involves “false information” supplied by the developer regarding the ownership of the land in question. And yet, MEPA never actually gets involved in ownership issues. Otherwise, it would also have to revoke the permit for Pender Place in St Julian’s: to name but one of countless construction projects currently mired in land ownership disputes.

Two: In this instance, the portion of land which did not belong to the developer – basically, a public lane – only occupies a tiny percentage of the total footprint. In practice, had the developer applied to build 21 villas instead of 23 (thus eliminating the only two villas earmarked for government-owned land), MEPA would not have had any valid reason to revoke the permit… unless you count the argument, raised by myself among many others, that the permit in question should never have been granted in the first place.

All this argument assumes a certain relevance in the light of the following facts:
One: The developer was allegedly advised by MEPA itself on how to get round planning obstacles… among other things, by revising the application so that it referred to a tourism-related project, instead of the usual permanent residences spiel. (By the same token: why didn’t MEPA also advise the developer to build 21 instead of 23 villas?)
Two. One board member – Leonard Callus – privately met developers in his capacity as OPM representative, for the express purpose of avoiding any misunderstandings regarding what was expected from the developer. (Misunderstandings like: please make sure all the land belongs to you, and you alone.)

So: having circumvented, sidestepped, avoided and ignored at least half a dozen of its own principles and guidelines to order to liberally dish out a permit that should never have been granted, MEPA suddenly finds objection to a single little detail… which by the way doesn’t even fall within its remit… and uses it as an excuse to revoke the permit less than four months later.
Why? I don’t know. Perhaps the thousand-odd demonstrators in Valletta last July had something to do with it. Perhaps because the country is now “in election mode”, which automatically justifies anything and everything.
One thing, however, is certain. Political interference remains political interference, regardless how beneficial the ultimate decision.