A party strangled from within

For a decade now, the Nationalist Party has found itself in opposition. Its once-formidable political operation – the one that, over decades, steered Malta into the EU, fostered prosperity, and built a reputation for getting things done – well, it’s showing its age. Labour consistently dominates in the polls, widening the gap touching fifteen points, while the PN seems to roam, no longer inspiring great fear in its rivals nor, crucially, confidence among its base. 

The decline perhaps began with the 2013 defeat, but the cracks were showing before. Barely squeezing through the 2008 election – the closest in Maltese history – Lawrence Gonzi’s government spent five years plagued by internal squabbles, unpopular austerity measures, and a general sense of being worn out. Labour’s subsequent landslide victory left the PN paralysed, struggling to form a believable counter-narrative. Over the next decade, leadership contests became increasingly acrimonious, internal factions deepened, and the party’s overall message became, frankly, a bit muddled. 

The most recent leadership contest revealed how deeply insiders controlled the party. Alex Borg, a relatively young MP with support in Gozo, narrowly defeated Adrian Delia, a former leader, by a mere 44 votes. However, his victory didn’t reflect fresh ideas; the establishment, determined to block Delia, apparently convinced Borg to go back on a previous gentleman’s agreement he had with Delia not to run. The strategy was straightforward: prevent the outsider they couldn’t control from winning, and instead, elevate someone more agreeable. Borg went along, and the insiders got what they wanted. Even if he wears the crown, someone else is likely pulling the strings. 

These kinds of manoeuvres certainly have consequences. These manoeuvres risk alienating Delia’s core supporters, who still believe the establishment treated him unfairly. The result is often paralysis: every initiative, every statement, goes through an invisible filter, weighed against the sensitivities of these shadowy power-brokers. Renewal under such conditions seems rather impossible. A party that struggles to breathe cannot put up a good fight. 

People may want to dismiss the PN as a relic, simply unsuited to modern Malta. Its structure felt outdated, its campaigns somewhat tired, and its leaders, seem unsure of themselves. While the party still benefits from the memory of past accomplishments, those victories perhaps sound a little hollow to younger people who weren’t around for EU accession or economic restructuring. Young voters, who have only ever known the PN as an opposition party, mainly to see a party preoccupied with its own infighting. 

The circumstances faced by the PN are not without precedent and are, in fact, not unique. Across Europe, centre-right parties are struggling to adapt to transforming societies, developing media landscapes, and increasingly popular populist movements. Some are embracing more aggressive cultural arguments, while others are leaning toward technocracy. The PN seems to have tinkered with both, and satisfied practically no one. Adrian Delia once promised to reinvent the party as an outsider voice for those the establishment ignored. He ultimately failed, not only because insiders undermined him but also, perhaps, because his rhetoric rarely translated into effective organisation. Bernard Grech, who followed, presented himself as a safe pair of hands, but he never quite convinced doubters he could actually win. Now Alex Borg, being younger and, arguably, more dynamic, carries these expectations. But a leader controlled by party elites is, well, a leader in name alone. 

Labour, in the meantime, is essentially cruising. It is the impression of most people that its majority is quite unwavering. Scandals do stick, but not enough to cause serious damage. The government continues to attract investment, expand infrastructure, and spread patronage. The PN can’t even convincingly portray itself as the anti-corruption champion, especially given that voters remember its own track record while in power. Even worse, the PN rarely seems to set the agenda. On issues like energy, housing, healthcare, or Gozo’s development, Labour typically speaks first, leaving the PN to offer a rather weak response. 

The numbers themselves tell the story. Polls consistently show Labour with a double-digit lead. In the last election, Labour won by a margin that was once almost unthinkable in Malta’s competitive two-party setup. To recover, the PN needs to convince tens of thousands of undecided voters. The party grapples with more than just ideological divides; it faces an existential ambiguity, really. While brimming with policy papers gathering dust, a unified vision is noticeably absent. Ask a few different people in the PN what they believe the party represents, and you might hear echoes of defending the rule of law, guarding traditional values, or promoting economic competitiveness. Each element is potentially valid, but together they blend into a kind of haze, especially damaging to a modern opposition aiming to cut through the surrounding noise with sharply delivered messaging. 

However, the establishment’s suffocating grip stifles the ability to achieve clarity. Those insiders, they seem to prefer control over risk, conformity over genuine creative input. Potentially fearing leaders who could overshadow them, they often clip wings before anyone truly gets to take flight. It’s a party potentially held hostage. 

Now, real renewal requires genuine courage. The change means a clean break from habits. It suggests opening the party to new talents – especially younger generations. It requires actively abandoning the idea that Maltese voters will simply “return” to the PN based on nostalgia. The truth of the matter is they simply will not do it. The future hinges on convincing citizens that the party can actually manage the country more effectively than Labour currently does, not simply resting on past successes. 

Settling for mere survival is a real, powerful temptation. The PN still has roughly a third of the electorate, enough to win seats, control some local councils, and have its voice heard in Parliament. But a party complacent in perpetual opposition gradually shrinks. Volunteers gradually lose heart, donors become somewhat miserly, and dedicated activists drift away. And Malta’s democracy also suffers, because a government lacking real scrutiny can too easily become arrogant in its approach. 

As a result, we find ourselves in a position where the rediscovery of ambition is essential. We’re talking about ambition to govern, not just to advance individual careers. That demands honesty: about the reasons for losing power, about failing to rebuild, and about why voters have abandoned the party. And then, the focus turns to discipline: to speak with a unified voice, to focus on issues that actually matter to people, and to really resist the tempting call of factional intrigue that can easily creep in. Above all, it requires a crucial freedom: the freedom from insiders. 

Failing that, the alternative is rather bleak. Another decade in opposition risks transforming the PN from a struggling challenger into a permanent minority. Remember, history contains many examples of parties that were deemed essential, but now seem irrelevant. 

Ultimately, no miracle will save the PN. Certainly not a sudden scandal, or a lucky election, or even a charismatic outsider. Instead, recovery will be the product of consistent, hard work: rebuilding credibility, articulating things simply, and genuinely reconnecting with average Maltese people.

But history offers a clear warning. Back in 2008, Lawrence Gonzi secured an election victory by an incredibly narrow margin of just 1,500 votes. Fast forward five years, and he led the PN to a crushing defeat, effectively paving the way for Labour’s decade of dominance. Unfortunately, a similar pattern might very well repeat itself. An opposition party shouldn’t simply accept its fate; however, that’s precisely what will happen if it remains suppressed. Unless it can truly operate without constraints, its role as the opposition will become entrenched.