‘Where is the laptop?’: The mantra drowning out the real questions

Whether Yorgen Fenech is convicted or acquitted is for the courts to decide.

But the prosecution’s case once again raises uncomfortable questions about the political culture that enabled the corruption Daphne Caruana Galizia exposed and which, culminated in a car bomb that literally blew her to pieces. Until Labour confronts that legacy, its own political reckoning will remain unfinished.

The Maltese state’s case against the alleged Daphne Caruana Galizia assassination mastermind, Yorgen Fenech, rests on evidence suggesting that he ordered the murder to prevent the publication of damaging information concerning his family and commercial interests.

In its opening address, the prosecution argued Fenech’s desperation peaked because Caruana Galizia had uncovered, and had begun investigating, how 17 Black was intended to channel millions of euros in illicit kickbacks into Panama companies belonging to senior government officials. The defence has rejected the prosecution’s interpretation of events, arguing that the evidence presented does not prove Fenech’s guilt beyond reasonable doubt. Moreover, its line of defence seems to imply that more powerful people than Fenech were involved in the assassination.

Of course, it is now up to the courts to determine Yorgen Fenech’s guilt or innocence. Yet, judging from the evidence presented, it is already clear that Fenech was part of a political ecosystem in which public and private interests became dangerously intertwined.

Daphne Caruana Galizia was not simply murdered. She was assassinated with a car bomb that literally blew her to pieces. In this sense the shocking details presented in court were a timely reminder for those who are too politically blinded to show any empathy towards the victim. 

Moreover, the brutality of the crime was intended not only to silence one journalist but also to send a chilling message to anyone who dared expose the nexus between political power and private wealth.

The country, and particularly the Labour Party, cannot keep postponing the day of political reckoning—a reckoning the party’s grassroots ought to be demanding. After all, it was they whose trust, and whose socialist ideals, were betrayed.

In other countries like the United Kingdom, it was the party’s grass roots who questioned Tony Blair’s Iraq war and who recently rebelled against Keir Starmer for abandoning the party’s values.  

Unfortunately, this is not the case in Malta, further exposing the ideological bankruptcy of a party that now thrives within the very ecosystem and establishment it should be fighting against.

Instead, we are regaled with the inane and malicious “Fejn hu l-laptop?” (“Where is the laptop?”) mantra, despite the prosecution itself recognising that the relevant information has been shared with it, and despite the leaks that justified the family’s concern when it entrusted the laptop to the German authorities.

It remains mind-boggling that the same people are not asking, “Fejn hu l-mobile ta' Keith?” (“Where is Keith’s mobile phone?”).

This spectacle of supporters parroting nonsense does a great disservice to a party that deserves better than to be dragged ever deeper into the swamp. Such an attitude stands as an insult to our collective intelligence.

Unfortunately, I have little hope that things can change. Prime Minister Robert Abela has had many opportunities to provide his party with the leadership it needed to heal this open wound.

Upon becoming prime minister, he ended the shameful practice of repeatedly clearing the Daphne memorial in Valletta from flowers and expelled Konrad Mizzi from the parliamentary group. But as protests lost momentum during the pandemic, he dithered, apparently fearful of the comeback of a predecessor who continues to use party candidates and officials as shields, fully aware that he will be politically finished the moment the party disowns him.

Abela has failed to send a clear message to his party that Daphne Caruana Galizia’s assassination must be condemned without qualification. He also continues to preside over a political ecosystem in which big business and politicians mingle and trade influence. 

He also remains allergic to transparency registers regulating lobbying, as well as to further limits on political spending and party financing. Despite the public inquiry identifying this problem as a central one, Abela is entrenched in an eco-system where Labour is in cahoots with the people it should, at the very least, keep a distance from.

Nor has he acknowledged that one can disagree with Caruana Galizia’s methods while still honouring her courage, wit and perseverance.  Principled socialists do not expect the party to canonise Daphne; they simply expect it to recognise the price she paid for exposing establishment networks that Labour has historically claimed to oppose. For who is the establishment if not the people with money, who benefit from decisions taken by politicians who are in their pockets?

None of this negates the many positive achievements since 2013. It merely acknowledges a dark stain which, like a black hole, continues to consume Labour’s democratic credentials. It may have not lost Labour elections but it has robbed it from respect.

At this stage, however, I have lost hope that Labour will ever come to terms with this episode. By turning a blind eye to one of the defining events in Malta’s contemporary history, the party is alienating a generation of activists, including people whose heart is on the left. This generation had its political baptism in the 2019 protests, which went beyond the Repubblika constituency and also involved non-affiliated people and organisations like Moviment Graffitti.

These are the very allies whose support it needs in the fight for social justice. It is therefore no surprise that Labour today appears driven more by the ambition of making people rich than by any commitment to wealth redistribution or environmental justice. 

Labour can be credited for winning elections on a populist platform and retains a progressive edge on a number of important issues but much more is expected of a socialist party, which back in the 1920s represented the torch of enlightenment and not inane mantras like ‘fejn hu l-laptop?’ aimed at exploiting ignorance and muddying the waters.