‘Have Faith, We Can Win’: Bernard Grech Borg’s First Speech Ignites Malta’s Political Festa Spirit

Watch: ‘Have faith, we can win’, Borg tells supporters in first speech

Valletta’s iconic Triton Fountain was bathed in red and white last night as hundreds gathered to hear the first major address from newly-crowned Nationalist Party leader Bernard Grech Borg. In a speech that lasted just under 25 minutes, Borg leaned into Maltese folklore, invoked Ġorġ Borg Olivier’s 1962 “Malta l-ewwel u qabel kollox” refrain, and promised that “the next chapter will be written in the ink of ordinary families, not party donors.”

The crowd—an eclectic mix of pensioners in Sunday-best, teenagers draped in party flags, and first-time voters taking selfies under the honey-coloured limestone arches—erupted when Borg, sleeves rolled up like a festa band-leader, declared: “Have faith, we can win.” Mobile-phone torches flickered in the mild April breeze, echoing the village festa tradition of iż-żiffa, when parishioners carry their patron saint in candlelight. Only this time, the “saint” was a 53-year-old lawyer from Birkirkara promising to “bring government back to your doorstep”.

Local context: why this feels different
Malta’s political DNA is rooted in the 1921 self-government constitution and the post-war tug-of-war between Labour’s Dockyard collectivism and the Church-backed Nationalists. Yet Borg’s speech deliberately side-stepped that binary. Instead of quoting Mintoff or Fenech Adami, he hailed “the woman in Qormi baking qassatat at 4 a.m. so her son can sit SEC exams” and “the Sliema pensioner who still salutes the George Cross flag every morning.” The messaging was clear: this campaign will be fought in kitchens and on WhatsApp groups, not just TV studios.

Cultural nods that landed
Borg peppered his address with references that only a Maltese crowd would feel in their bones. He compared the PN’s uphill battle to the yearly St. Gregory’s boat procession in Marsaxlokk: “We row against the current, but we know the harbour lights are waiting.” When he thanked party volunteers in Gozitan dialect—“Grazzi ħbieb, grazzi Għawdex”—the Gozo Channel ferry hooted in the distance, drawing laughter and applause. Even his closing benediction, “Il-Mulej jibqa’ jagħtina l-qawwa,” was delivered in the cadence of the village priest’s Sunday blessing, blurring the line between stump speech and sermon.

Community impact: early signals
Within minutes of the live-stream ending, Facebook groups from Birżebbuġa to Mosta lit up with memes of Borg superimposed on the Maltese Cross. Local band clubs offered rehearsal halls for campaign meetings; pastizzi vendors in Rabat pledged “a tray for every canvasser.” Young PN activists launched TikTok challenges under #FidiFittixna, riffing on Borg’s “faith” sound-bite with folk-music samples from Għanafest. Meanwhile, Labour’s ONE TV counter-programmed with archival footage of 1987 victory rallies, signalling that both parties recognise the cultural battlefield has widened beyond traditional TV debates.

What happens next
Borg ended by inviting supporters to walk with him from Parliament to the Upper Barrakka Gardens—an echo of Dom Mintoff’s 1976 “people’s walk” but with a distinctly Gen-Z twist: QR codes on placards linked to a Spotify playlist titled “Fidi & Ftit Kuraġġ”. As confetti cannons popped, the Ġuże Ellul Mercer brass band struck up a jaunty march, melding 19th-century patriotism with 21st-century optimism.

Whether that optimism survives the summer heat of political debate remains to be seen. But for one balmy April evening, Valletta felt like one large village square, and Bernard Grech Borg sounded less like a party leader than a parish priest reminding his flock that redemption is only a novenna—and a general election—away.