Għargħur’s 60 minutes of… infamy/fame (choose your shades)

The sleepy village of Għargħur is nuzzled between Naxxar, San Ġwann and Ibraġġ on one of the highest places in Malta.

Indeed, the area along the Victoria Lines, where many young lovers go on night-time escapades, is affectionately and bombastically known as Top of the World.

The locality, with a population of 3,741, is characterised by sharp contrasts between the old and the new; the traditional and the contemporary. The traditional Maltese village core of two-storey houses built around the parish church is overshadowed by modern apartment blocks that have mushroomed around it. And the rural life of those who have always lived in Għargħur contrasts with the flashy living of new residents, referred to as ‘ta’ isfel’ (‘those from the bottom of the hill’), who moved to the locality over the years.

In such a small place, the social tension is palpable—those who produce fireworks for the local feast and those who would rather have fireworks banned; those for whom the peal of church bells is a marker of daily life and those who would rather see churches with no bells.

The last time Għargħur made the spotlight was eight years ago when the Planning Authority granted a permit for the expansion of the fireworks factory in a nearby valley. The local council did not object with Mayor Ġiljan Aquilina at the time saying the expansion was necessary to ensure safety and the few who protested were unappreciative of the locality’s deep-rooted fireworks tradition.

Roll forward to 2025 and Għargħur has suddenly been thrust into the spotlight again because of political trouble brewing in the council. This village held its first local election in 1994 when councils were set up.

From blue to red: A defection

Għargħur has always elected a Nationalist-majority council. The PN has always won an absolute majority of votes that translated into a majority of seats—three out of five. Additionally, the PN’s share of the vote has always hovered around the 60% mark.

The 2024 council election was no different. The PN won 62.3% of the vote against the PL’s 37.7%. This result translated into three seats for the PN and two for the PL, with Nationalist Helen Gauci being confirmed mayor since she obtained the highest number of votes.

Gauci’s personal tally of 869 votes on the first count was even higher than the votes obtained by all Labour candidates put together. PL candidates collectively received 759 votes.

And yet, almost a year later, Gauci was deposed from mayor and replaced by Labour councillor Mariah Meli. In one fell swoop, the Għargħur mayorship shifted from blue to red, prompting the PN to cry foul and calling it a coup on democracy.

The shift became possible after 27-year-old councillor Francesca Attard, who was elected on the PN ticket, resigned from the party and decided to sit as an independent. She cited lack of good governance by Helen Gauci as the reason for her decision. Gauci denies wrongdoing.

Attard supported a motion of no confidence in Gauci that was put forward by the two PL councillors. In a subsequent vote, Meli was elected mayor with Attard’s support, while the latter was elected vice mayor with the backing of the two PL councillors.

Sour but legal: A seat short

The PN has argued that even if the personal votes obtained by Francesca Attard, their former councillor, are added to the PL’s, the alliance would still not have a majority of votes.

A brief calculation shows that without Attard’s 177 votes, the PN would still have an absolute majority of 53.5%, while the PL-independent alliance would have 46.5%.

Even so, these numbers are meaningless when it comes to elect a new mayor. What counts is the number of seats a party commands.

Gauci had been elected mayor automatically last year because the Local Councils Act stipulates that after an election, the person with the most votes from the party with the most councillors, should become mayor.

However, after Attard’s defection and the vote of no confidence—something that is contemplated at law—the choice of a new mayor depended solely on the vote of councillors, irrespective of the 2024 election result.

Suddenly, the PN found itself one vote short of being able to elect a mayor from within its ranks. The new alliance formed between the PL councillors and Francesca Attard ensured the new mayor was a Labourite. What happened may have been politically sour but it was all within the rules.

People’s will and betrayal: No dissolution

The PN is insisting that to respect the will of the people, the council should be dissolved and a new election should take place in Għargħur. The request is not unreasonable but the reference to votes as a benchmark for local democracy does jar when one considers that the electoral system has in the past delivered ‘perverse’ council results.

On at least two occasions, the party that obtained an absolute majority of votes ended up with a minority of council seats and there never was any outcry to fix the system. This happened to the PN in Mqabba, in 2005, when it obtained 50.7% of the vote but one seat less than the PL; and to the PL in Mellieħa, in 2008, when it obtained 51.5% but elected fewer councillors than the PN. In these two occasions, voter support meant nothing when councillors came to elect the mayor.

However, beyond the numbers, the PN’s call for the Għargħur council to be dissolved raises question marks since it has no basis at law.

The Local Councils Act states that a council can be dissolved by the president upon the advice of the prime minister only if the auditor general flags persistent breaches in financial responsibility; if it continually ignores the law regulating how local councils function; there is a lack of agreement over the choice of mayor; the council is unable to approve its annual estimates; or on the basis of a recommendation made by an inquiry board set up by the minister.

None of these provisions have been met and so there is no legal reason for the Għargħur council to be dissolved and consequently no new election can be held.

The only option to force an election is to have all councillors resign of their own volition, something which does not appear to be on the table.

Francesca Attard may be perceived as having betrayed those who voted for her by resigning from the PN but she was well within her rights to do so. Unlike what happens at national level, where a new election can be called if the government of the day loses a vote of confidence in parliament, or loses a budget vote, no such provisions exist for local councils. Indeed, local councils are not even structured along government-opposition lines with the law making it incumbent that all councillors, irrespective if they are part of the majority party or the minority party, should be handed a portfolio.

Back to 1981: Not quite

The PN has raised a storm in Għargħur in the hope of turning the issue into a national battle cry on democracy. Leader Bernard Grech accused the PL of not respecting the people’s will in Għargħur, intimating that the party would not even respect the result of a general election.

The former mayor even tried to brand her removal as a return to the 1980s with reference to the 1981 general election, which returned a Labour government despite the PN obtaining an absolute majority of votes.

The references are not sporadic. Grech is trying to turn the Għargħur debacle into a ‘fight’ for democracy, similar to the battle cry the PN used in the 1980s. It is a strategy to galvanise the hard core.

But what has happened in Għargħur is not a repeat of the 1981 election. The problem with the 1981 election was that the Labour government gerrymandered the electoral districts to ensure it would win enough seats to be able to govern, even if it did not obtain an absolute majority. It was this action that gave rise to the ‘perverse’ result, which led to five years of political and social turmoil.

There was no gerrymandering in Għargħur. What happened was that an elected PN councillor decided to abandon the party and join forces with the PL. It is this action that precipitated the crisis.

Trying to blow the issue up into something it is not leaves the PN on shaky grounds at best. The more important question the PN administration should be asking itself is why a councillor elected on its ticket felt the need to take the extreme measure of resigning from the party in the first place.

Votes, money and boxing: Accountability

The administration should have evaluated the concerns raised by Francesca Attard over what she claims was a lack of good governance and financial mismanagement by the former mayor.

Helen Gauci has tried to give an explanation to various issues raised but her replies have been unconvincing. One of the more concerning issue appears to be a boxing event organised by the council in May last year, which has left suppliers begging to be paid.

Gauci gave a dubious commitment that she will personally shoulder responsibility for covering outstanding expenses for the boxing event. She did not say how.

On Ricky Caruana’s podcast, Gauci insisted the boxing event had to be covered by sponsors but one of them backed out at the last minute, causing a shortfall in income. Nonetheless, despite her insistence that the issue concerns her and not the council, people who have yet to be paid for services rendered are chasing the council for their money.

In the best-case scenario, the boxing incident is the result of sheer amateurism by the former mayor. It appears that Gauci, with the complicity of the previous council, adopted a loose mentality when it came to accountability and transparency—something very common with councils as attested by the yearly review conducted by the Auditor General.

Democracy is not just about the will of the people but also about good governance and the rule of law. In Għargħur, the PN has chosen to focus on votes but appears to have ignored issues of good governance.

It was only after all hell broke loose that Gauci asked the Auditor General to investigate.

Whether the political storm brewing at Top of the World will blow over as another petty council battle between the main parties or trickle down to the rest of the country and become a national political issue still has to be seen. Ultimately, the Għargħur debacle will become what the parties want it to be—a day of infamy and a threat to democracy for the PN; a day of fame and a victory for good governance for the PL.

The question is: Will people beyond the confines of the village really bother? We will only know in due course.