Conspiracy theory incorporated

Part of the anatomy of the classic conspiracy theory involves an erosion of trust in official authorities, which usually happens even when the official version of events is water-tight

While the victims’ remains were still being retrieved from the crash-site, people were already wildly speculating
While the victims’ remains were still being retrieved from the crash-site, people were already wildly speculating

There is something of an online trend at the moment that takes the form of ‘info-maps’, ranking countries according to one (or more) set of statistics. 

One recent example was a map of Europe to show how many ‘death metal bands’ exist in each country. Exactly why someone decided to invest so much energy into such an arcane matter is, of course, anyone’s guess. The results were nonetheless extremely intriguing.  

With 117 bands per million inhabitants, Malta turned out to be more heavily into metal than nearly any non-Scandinavian country. Of the rest of Europe, only Greece scored significantly higher than Malta. In brief: ‘death metal’ is one of those rare issues where European stats actually favour tiny Malta far more than its larger, richer European counterparts.

Not that this information will change anyone’s life, I am the first to admit... but hey! it does make a pleasant change, from almost always languishing towards the bottom of any European table. And it also adds a tiny nugget of insight – however inconsequential – to our general understanding of the national psyche. It puts another dot on the page, to be joined with all the others.

Similar maps have been widely circulated to illustrate all sorts of other national traits: the levels of human rights protection worldwide; countries which have partially or totally legalised drugs; countries ranked by military expenditure, or carbon emissions, or the number of serial killers per 1,000 population, etc.

To the best of my knowledge, however, no one has ever tried ranking countries by the prevalence of conspiracy theorists. That’s probably because no reliable stats actually exist for that sort of thing; and if any did, you’d have to be killed merely for suspecting their existence. Who knows? Perhaps someone did try the exercise, but was liquidated by the CIA in what was made to look like an accident. In fact... maybe that’s why that bloke down the road passed away after choking on a rabbit bone the other week. 

Rabbit bone, my foot. It was the Men in Black wot did it. Goddamn spooks, everywhere you look...

Whatever the case: I strongly suspect that Malta would feature very high in that list. And if my suspicion is correct... as with the death metal conundrum, I think it is pertinent to ask ourselves why. 

This week, we had an opportunity to put this little oddity – i.e., the inexplicable prevalence of so many conspiracy theorists on such a small island – to the test. I won’t call it a perfect opportunity, because it’s hardly the word you’d use for such a ghastly accident. Be that as it may: a small, unmarked military surveillance plane, carrying five unidentified personnel to an unknown destination, crashed and exploded seconds after take-off from the Luqa runway. All five passengers were killed on impact. 

Those were the initial facts as far as anyone could make them out, before the official statements and explanations began to (rather clumsily) emerge. And already, you can see we are in pure conspiracy theory heaven. While the victims’ remains were still being retrieved from the crash-site, people were already wildly speculating on the two immediate questions: what caused the crash, and what was that military plane (later identified as a US asset on lease by the French Defence Ministry) doing taking off from Malta anyway? 

Sticking only to the first of those questions for now. Of all the speculation aired online in the immediate aftermath: how many people considered the possibility that... well, it might have been an accident, caused by nothing more sinister than human error, technical malfunction, or both?

Naturally, I don’t know if that’s the reason. Nor do I think it is prudent to exclude any other possibilities at this stage. Statistically, however, ‘accident’ remains the likeliest explanation... by an order of magnitude. Infinitely more planes worldwide crash for that sort of reason, than because of sabotage, covert internal military operations, or any other kind of foul play. 

Yet when it came to suggesting a plausible reason to account for this particular disaster... many people immediately suspected foul play.

Does this make them conspiracy theorists? Erm… not quite, no. It takes more than just an innate tendency to suspect the worst (a quality which is actually quite helpful, if you’re in the business of investigating mysteries). The ‘conspiracy’ part of the theory also requires belief in some form of official cover-up or ‘false-flag operation’: usually by the government, sometimes by the military, often on the orders of some kind of global elite. In other scenarios there may even be aliens or cryptids involved. But unless this sort of suspicion arises, we are still in the domain of perfectly legitimate questions.  

And here is where the trouble begins. No sooner did officialdom make its voice heard about this incident, than the questions multiplied in all directions. The very first thing you notice when you list out all the government (French and Maltese) and European Union (Commission, Frontex) statements is that... none of them actually provides any information. All the initial declarations were framed in the negative: we were consistently being told what this operation wasn’t, and who the victims weren’t... rather than what it was, who they were, and what they were doing.

Frontex, the EU’s border patrol agency, was among the first to comment. “No Frontex staff was involved in the plane crash in Malta.” Later, “The plane that crashed in Malta was not deployed by Frontex”. Then a statement from the office of Francesca Mogherini, High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy : “[...]we can confirm that no European Union’s officials were onboard. The plane also was not related to any of the European Union’s activities."

So far, so good. If it wasn’t an EU operation, the EU can hardly be expected to shed any further light on it. But then, the contradictions begin to occur. Government sources confirmed that the aircraft was being deployed as part of a French customs exercise. However, the Douane Français tweeted that ‘No French customs official was on board the aircraft’... and CAE Aviation, the plane’s owners, confirmed that the reconnaissance flight was actually operated on behalf of the French Ministry of Defence. 

Is this explainable? Perhaps. I have no idea how the French authorities co-ordinate their customs exercises, but it seems plausible that they might make use of non-customs assets and personnel. The trouble is, we are still no nearer to knowing what this was all about. All we have seen so far is one official source after another rushing to distance itself from the event. It is not a very reassuring sight.

Then there are the rather bizarre contradictions. Home affairs and National Security Minister Carmelo Abela was reported as saying that “no foreign military personnel are using Malta as a base from which to conduct overseas operations.”

Even if we pick up the very few pieces we have – mostly coming from the government’s own statements – that statement doesn’t quite add up. A military aircraft took off from Malta on a surveillance/reconnaissance mission handled by the French Defence Ministry. Whether the pilots and passengers were civilian or not, the operation itself is very clearly military. So, yes, Malta was very evidently being used as a base to launch an overseas operation. And if we can now confirm this at all, it was only because the plane tragically crashed. Otherwise, the operation would have gone ahead as planned, and none of us would ever have been any the wiser.

It is by no means off the radar, then, to describe this as a ‘secret military operation’. To deny that appellation in the face of such dramatic evidence, is almost every bit as nutty as the nuttiest of conspiracy theories.

Whether we should be ‘surprised’ or ‘shocked’ by this revelation is naturally another story. This is hardly the first time Malta got somehow caught up in the complexities of the ongoing Libyan upheavals. We’re far too close and far too intertwined with that country’s fate to ever remain 100% uninvolved.

But we are still confronted with a gulf of credibility between the official explanations, and the facts as we can see them with our own eyes. From this perspective, it is small wonder so many people would instantly lean towards sensational or even irrational possibilities. Part of the anatomy of the classic conspiracy theory involves an erosion of trust in official authorities. Usually, this happens even when the official version of events is perfectly water-tight and plausible. Just imagine, then, how a conspiracy theory will spread, when the official answers only succeed in raising more questions and sowing more doubt.

For what it’s worth, however, I still think it’s slightly nutty to just leap to the most extraordinary conclusion imaginable, when other, more practical explanations are so much more believable. Until further evidence to the contrary emerges, I myself see no reason whatsoever to doubt that it was an accident, and the operation itself a routine customs exercise. But until we do get credible official clarifications, I likewise fail to see why others shouldn’t just speculate at will.