The anatomy of a culture minister

Culture Minister Malcolm Paul Agius Galea has described his first four months in office as “traumatic”, saying that his medical profession had taught him to associate creativity with being “presumptuous” and “dangerous”.

Referring to people working in the cultural sector, he remarked that “everyone thinks they’re God’s gift to the world and that they’re the most important part of Maltese culture”.

He also questioned why successful productions should need public funding when ticket sales should be enough, and argued that artistic creativity must operate “within certain norms of right and wrong”. His frank remarks at the Festival of Ideas have understandably caused consternation among artists and cultural practitioners.

I would not dwell too much on the current culture minister, whose remarks have raised serious questions about his suitability for the role, which is a pity considering the potential of the sectors under his remit.

At the most basic level, one expects a culture minister to take pride in creating and cultivating public cultural spaces where authority and established norms can be ridiculed, mocked and challenged by people who think they are God's gift to humanity. Spaces where bands like Mario Vella's Brikkuni and books like Karl Schembri's Eħlisna mid-Deni are celebrated, and where worthy traditions such as għana are not simply valued but encouraged to grow and engage with global culture. 

But my question is this: who would make a good culture minister? Who has the drive to champion a bold cultural vision at a critical moment when national identity is in flux and has become such a defining question?

The task of a culture minister is not to offer his own answers, but to promote an inclusive national conversation that finds expression through music, literature, visual art and poetry.  Unfortunately, as a nation we are increasingly defining our identity by excluding others instead of confidently celebrating ourselves. 

Moreover, this should be a vision rooted in our collective memory, but one that also leaves a legacy.

What about setting up an Institute of Public Memories to preserve the oral traditions of ordinary people, who are themselves repositories of history? A living institution dedicated to preserving memories, including those of our own times and of generations whose lives predate the internet and AI.

There is also an obligation to defend cultural landscapes and uphold the values of the European Landscape Convention in a country where towns and villages are under siege. Here, the culture minister should push for reforms that strengthen the autonomy of the Superintendence of Cultural Heritage, allowing it to withstand economic and speculative pressures.

We need a minister willing to confront head-on the challenges posed by artificial intelligence and its tech lords, and to defend artists and human agency, both fundamental to the survival of art itself. 

And what about a vision that supports artists through a basic income, as in Ireland, where a scheme providing financial assistance to artists has been introduced with safeguards designed to preserve their independence? 

Of course, culture is a much wider experience, encompassing popular expressions, feasts, traditional forms and even pop culture. Indeed, a bold vision would break down the artificial boundaries between so-called elite and popular culture. In short, the popular does not need to be mediocre and the sophisticated does not need to be detached.

Crucially culture should not be Cinderella. It is one of the most important ministerial portfolios, especially in a time of profound change.

Yet I honestly find it difficult to identify anyone on either the government or opposition benches who champions culture in this way, with the ambition to challenge conventions and leave a lasting legacy.

Which brings me to another problem: the intellectual darkness that seems to be consuming our political system.

The latest idiocy was the vilification of Andrew Azzopardi for choosing “f’ghoxx il-Labour” over “Nazzjonalist ippatentjat” in a satirical programme. The fact that people took offence at what was said in a satirical space only reinforces the importance of having a strong cultural voice in government and Labour.  The fact that party propagandists are pushing this puerile agenda exposes a cultural black hole.

A culture minister with backbone would have defended Azzopardi, reminding his audience that satire, mockery and ridicule are essential expressions of a cosmopolitan modernity. Defending freedom of expression is itself a defining responsibility of the culture portfolio. 

Ultimately, Malta needs someone who stands tall on culture, not merely celebrating it but acting as its voice within government and pushing its boundaries.

Perhaps Malcolm was being honest when he expressed his unease at being appointed to a portfolio in which he clearly feels uncomfortable. In fact, that was the original problem: a wrong choice by the prime minister. But given the talent pool available to him, I doubt there is an obvious replacement.

The government has some good economists and lawyers, but seemingly nobody who can be identified as a genuine champion of culture and the arts. This is particularly unfortunate for a Labour government whose first act in office was to abolish censorship: a promising start, but what about legacy?

For without a confident local culture, capable of absorbing the richness of foreign diasporas and celebrating our Mediterranean harbour as a melting pot, identity risks being defined instead by the exclusion of others.