“Power is given only to those who dare to lower themselves and pick it up.”
~ Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor Dostoevsky
The great Russian novelist understood something that the 30-year-old boy currently masquerading as Leader of the Opposition never has and, judging by the shambolic Nationalist Party campaign now unfolding before our eyes, never will.
Real power is not seized by the proud, the entitled, or the photogenic. It is claimed only by those willing to stoop, to humble themselves, to dirty their hands, to admit their limitations, to listen when they would rather lecture, and to bend when their ego screams for them to stand tall. Alex Borg has spent the first days of the 2026 election campaign proving that he lacks the basic political maturity to perform even that first, essential act of lowering himself.
Since he snatched the PN leadership in September 2025 by the slimmest of margins, Borg has behaved less like a statesman-in-waiting and more like a university debating-society president who wandered onto the national stage by mistake. He arrived promising “Nifs Ġdid” – a new breath – but has delivered nothing but the same stale, performative youthfulness that has become his only selling point. Every rally, every interview, every carefully staged Instagram reel screams the same message: Look at me, I’m young, I’m energetic, I’m different. What it does not scream is humility, depth, or the willingness to lower oneself before the harsh realities of Maltese politics and the Maltese people.
Dostoevsky’s line is merciless because it is true. The men and women who since Independence have actually held power in this country, for better or worse, understood that you must first stoop: to the voter in the street who is worried about the electricity bill, to the family that cannot afford a home, to the party elders whose experience you need even if it bruises your ego, to the uncomfortable truths about your own inexperience. Borg refuses. He walks into rooms and feels “misjudged” because of his age, he tells us. He complains about doubters and naysayers. He poses with his partner at mass rallies as if this were a modelling shoot rather than a battle for the future of the nation. Lower himself? He has elevated himself into a brand. Power, in his mind, is something he is entitled to by virtue of being the shiny new thing in a tired old party.
And the campaign has cruelly exposed him. The snap election called by Prime Minister Robert Abela for 30th May has not been the platform Borg hoped for; it has been the magnifying glass. His proposals read like a sixth-former’s PowerPoint: vague talk of “quality of life,” health-sector pledges that sound impressive until you ask for details, and an economic “reset” that somehow never quite explains how he will pay for it.
Alex Borg
When pressed on energy subsidies, an issue that actually touches people’s wallets, he dodges, he pivots, he repeats slogans. When the Labour Party points out glaring omissions in his speeches, he offers no serious rebuttal, only more youthful bravado. This is the behaviour of a boy who still believes politics is about looking the part.
Even his own party’s history is now weaponised against him by his immaturity. Barely two months into his leadership last year, internal chaos erupted and critics openly wrote that “Alex Borg lost control of the PN.” He has spent the intervening time trying to project control he does not possess. Past ethical stumbles, the Fort Chambray affair where he was found in breach and refused to apologise, revealed the same character flaw now on full display: an inability to stoop, to say “I was wrong,” to lower himself before standards and before the public.
Dostoevsky did not write that line as poetry. He wrote it as diagnosis. Power devours the proud. It rewards only those with the courage to kneel first, to serve before they rule, to learn before they lecture, to lower themselves so they may one day be worthy of being lifted.
Alex Borg has spent the first five days of the 2026 campaign doing the opposite: standing tall on a platform of slogans, selfies, and shallow youth appeal, convinced that the electorate will simply hand him power because he is the fresh face.
They will not. And they should not.
Malta deserves better. Dostoevsky would have seen through him in a heartbeat. So, increasingly, will the electorate on 30 May.
