Yes, but no, but yes, but no…

How difficult is it, exactly, to get a referendum question right? I mean, seriously: on a scale of 1 to 10… where ‘1’ is as easy as ‘ABC’… or wait, was that ‘ABZ’…?

See? It’s difficult already. And we haven’t even got to the hard part yet. The date has hardly even been announced, and already the spring hunting referendum has hit its first snag. Do we vote ‘Yes’ or ‘No’? Does a ‘No’ mean ‘Yes’ to abrogating the law, and vice versa? And does that apply to sexual advances also…? 

Most important of all: will we all still be scratching our heads trying to work it out in the ballot box on April 11? It reminds me a little of that line from Bilbo Baggins’ party speech: “I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” I’ve been trying to work it out for 27 years, and am still no nearer an answer today.  

And yet there are only two variables in this equation. It’s Yes or No, for crying out loud. On paper it seriously couldn’t be simpler if it tried. So how on earth did we manage to screw this one up so badly? 

The answer, as you probably already know, has much to do with our House of Parliament, which in 1998 somehow managed to approve a law – in both English and Maltese – where the Maltese version is not only different from the English one: but it actually says the clean opposite.

According to the English version, the electorate should be called upon to vote on removing a law. It is, after all, called the ‘Abrogative Referendum Act’; and the word ‘to abrogate’ does, after all, have a meaning. The Maltese version, however, has it the other way round. We should be asked whether we like any particular law enough to want to keep it. And where a conflict between these two incompatible versions inevitably arises – the first time the law is enacted, of course – the Maltese version always carries the day.

I don’t know about you, but I think that speaks volumes about the country we live in. As a race we have a unique genius for making even the simplest matters as complicated as humanly possible. And please note the underlying assurance, implicit in the Maltese version, that a law is there to be retained… not removed. Laws are, after all, the glorious handiwork of our proud political representatives. And you wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings, would you, by so much as implying that their handiwork may not be up to scratch?

In fact, it tells us the most about our parliament. I don’t know how many MPs there were in 1998 – with the Constitutional mechanism effect, it could be anywhere between 63 and 44 to the power of 16, followed by a bunch of Greek letters. What I do know, however, is that the members of this parliament have always broadly seen themselves as indispensable to the running of the country. Whether in government or opposition, both parties have incessantly argued that “only they” have the wherewithal to steer this country in the right direction with a “safe pair of hands” (or with the “rajna f’idejna”, whichever you prefer)… and 1998 was certainly no exception. 

Yet unaccountably, not a single one of this collective mass of indispensable intelligence and foresight even noticed that they had approved two conflicting versions of the same law. And we only notice it now, because ‘now’ is the first time this law they enacted 17 years ago has actually been enforced.

Sort of makes you wonder how many other legal monsters and aberrations they’ve concocted between them over the years, but which we’ll only find out about when it’s already too late.

And that’s before you even get to the question itself. OK, having established that (because of yet another cock-up brought to you by the House of Representatives) we are now expected to perform an act of collective reverse psychology, and say ‘No’ to a ban when we actually mean ‘Yes’… the next logical step would be to phrase the question in as uncomplicated terms as possible. Don’t forget: we’ve screwed this up already. Let’s not screw it up any further. Right?

Right. So this is what they came up with:

“Do you agree that the provisions of the Framework for allowing a Derogation opening a Spring Hunting season for Turtle Dove and Quail Regulations (subsidiary legislation 504.94) should continue in force?” 

Er… WHAT? Can you repeat that slowly, and ideally in any language spoken this side of the Milky Way? I lost you half way through the word ‘provisions’. And besides: how are people supposed to respond to that in the ballot box? “Oh, hang on, I forgot to bring my personal copy of the subsidiary legislation to Malta’s hunting and trapping regulations – very unusual, I normally keep it in my back pocket – so let me just run home quickly and check to see what it is I’m actually agreeing or disagreeing with here…”

Honestly: if I wasn’t so utterly naïve I would almost suspect that the people responsible for that question were going out of their way to make this choice as impossible as possible (if you know what I mean)… as if they were subliminally trying to influence the outcome through a cloud of unintelligible gibberish. And who are these people, I hear you ask? Oh, no one in particular: the Prime Minister (who by a huge coincidence has already revealed his voting intentions, which are to retain spring hunting – whether that’s a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ is something I can’t be arsed to work out right now)… and whichever lawyers gave him the ‘legal advice’ he requested.

But no, what was I thinking? The simpler explanation is far likelier to be true… and it’s easier to believe that the question is itself the direct product of our political and legal system, and therefore is prone to the same system’s combined faults. Think about it. When’s the last time you asked a lawyer for an answer to a straight ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ question, but got… “well, it depends on whether the law is interpreted as a “causa mutanda mutandis cum gladiis et fustibus”, ‘or a case of ‘nolli prosequi quia veni ad ianuam meam”…? And as for politicians… when’s the last time you expected them to issue a policy statement, but had to make do with a “we will make our position known after internal discussion” instead?

Let’s face it: in a democracy, you not only get the government you deserve; you’re also lumped with all the crappy laws those same governments legislate.

But still: in this great age of Google translate – I just used it to brush up my Latin, right there – we may as well try and simplify the question where others have complicated it beyond all human comprehension. That gibberish on the ballot paper on April 11? All it means is: “DO YOU AGREE WITH SPRING HUNTING, YES OR NO?” 

There. How complicated was that? Oh, and one last thing: the answers work out the same (I know, I just spent the last four hours checking…).