Quiet and Death Have Equal Components “Speak Out”


                                                                            

Political parties, to some extent or another, are coalitions centreing around related beliefs. In many democracies this is reflected in the fact that multiple parties compete with each other, indicating that it is not possible to muster broad coalitions. In others, a few parties prevail, as in Malta and the UK. In the latter case, a primary task is to keep the inevitable coalition together so that differences of opinion are ironed out internally, allowing the party to present a broadly united public front.
Sometimes it works. At others it does not and internal strains spill over into the public domain. Leaders try to keep the differing factions together internally, while glibly putting up a brave front externally.
More often than not, compromises are reached, leading to some political observers to hold that politics is the art of compromise. Compromise is an important factor in politics. Inevitably, it raises the question, compromise yes, but at what price? The price begins to manifest itself in public when subscribers to the compromise feel impelled to make their own position clear.
These processes were in action in Malta in recent weeks, culminating in the abstention by the Nationalist Opposition on the vote that paved the way for the Civil Unions Act to come into being.
The Opposition, tying up the various loose ideological ends, was able to reach compromise agreement on most of the provisions of the Bill. Try as it might, it could not reach a compromise on the provision confirming the right of gay couples to apply to adopt a child. After heated debate behind closed doors, the Opposition decided on the clearest confirmation of all that it was divided.
When it came to the vote, the Opposition abstained. Its members echoed the words in a popular song by Ronan Keating: You say it best when you say nothing at all. That may be the case between starry-eyed lovers. It is not the case outside romantic liaisons.
You say it best when you argue your point logically and persuasively. And persuade a majority of your colleagues to support you.
When you conclude that it would be best to say nothing at all, as the Nationalists did, you appear weak, running away from the issue at hand.
Saying nothing about MPs’ opinion betrays the depth of their internal division, and the inability of the leadership to bring about consensus on a factor which deals with minority rights. It was a tenuous way of escaping from a burning reality, one that would crack soon enough.
It began to crack even before the new President had signed the Bill into law, as she will be doing shortly. One of the new Opposition MPs went public with her stance. Trying to reach out to some friends and, probably, part of her support base, she made it clear that she was in favour of allowing gays to seek approval to adopt.
After heated debate behind closed doors, the Opposition decided on the clearest confirmation of all that it was divided
I doubt that her statement pleased the leadership and those who like her had been favour of the Bill, adoption provision and all, but had sacrificed their liberal standing in the name of tenuous unity. Whether it does so or not, or whether it leads to angry tightening up of internal discipline is immaterial.
That there were deep divisions within the Opposition is a well-known fact. Traditionally, the PN has had to reach a balance between hardliners and modernisers.
This time round, it could not do so in a politically palatable manner. Above all, the new leader was made to appear weak, unable to stamp his authority on his diminished parliamentary group, despite his probable personal beliefs as a moderniser. The abstention threw the Nationalist Party back a number of years, belying its claims that it had learned its lessons and how to respond to the wishes of the various sectors of the electorate.
Democracy is tested, among other things, through how it deals with its minorities. How the rights of minorities are promoted and protected. In the case of civil rights, like those of gays, there is a simple starter reason for doing so.
Giving rights to a minority does not take anything away from the majority. Introducing the facility of divorce does not oblige those who do not want to use it to do so.
Recognising the right of gays to equal treatment does not oblige non-gay persons to turn gay. Gay rights do not take anything away from majority rights.
If this simple reasoning is accepted and applied wherever possible, there would not be so much heat in the public debate which accompanies such issues. The bishops have finally got it right. They stress that for Catholics the line of belief is that set by the Church, which is against civil unions, gay adoption and divorce.
Catholics who fall out of line err in the eyes of the Church, although now they are addressed far more humanely and lovingly than yesteryear when hellfire and brimstone were flung at them. But the matter rests there.
I find it strange that the strength of this line of reasoning is not recognised by those who oppose rights extended to minorities who practise them among themselves and do not impose them on any one. Had the traditionalists in the Nationalist Opposition accepted and followed this reasoning, they would not have brought their party into the ridiculous position of saying nothing at all when it came to the crunch and the issue reached a crescendo.
They would not have made their new leader look weak and lacking clout.
You say it right when you express your views clearly and forcefully in the belief that you are right while recognising the inalienable right of others to disagree with you.
You say it right when you say it clearly and unequivocally. 

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