Trump’s ‘Low IQ’ Slur: A Tale of Two Islands

Imagine, if you will, the bustling streets of Valletta on a sunny afternoon. Tourists meander through the Grandmaster’s Palace, locals chat over espresso at Caffe Cordina. Now, picture this: a group of Americans, huddled around a smartphone, chuckling at a tweet. “President Trump just called someone ‘low IQ’ again,” one of them remarks. Welcome to Malta, where the world’s political storm can be as tangible as the Mediterranean breeze.

Trump’s penchant for the ‘low IQ’ slur has become as predictable as the island’s siesta. But why does this particular insult resonate so much? And what does it tell us about the right’s race obsession? Let’s look this phenomenon, from the streets of Valletta to the heart of American politics.

Trump’s ‘low IQ’ slur isn’t a new tactic. It’s part of a pattern that began with ‘low energy’ jibes at Jeb Bush during the 2016 primaries. It’s a strategy that plays to his base, many of whom see intelligence as a sign of elitism. But it’s also a dog whistle, a way of appealing to racial biases without explicitly saying so.

Consider this: Trump’s targets have often been people of color. He’s called Maxine Waters, a black congresswoman, ‘low IQ’. He’s implied that LeBron James, a black NBA star, isn’t too bright. And let’s not forget his ‘very fine people on both sides’ comment after the Charlottesville riots.

Malta, with its own right-wing political scene, isn’t immune to these dynamics. While our politics are distinct from America’s, there are parallels. Malta’s right-wing echo chambers, fueled by social media, often peddle in similar rhetoric. ‘Low IQ’ slurs aren’t uncommon. Criticism of the opposition is often couched in personal attacks, with intelligence frequently called into question.

Take the recent political spat over the Delimara power station. Opposition MP Jason Azzopardi was ridiculed for suggesting a feasibility study. The right-wing backlash was swift and personal. “Low IQ” comments flooded social media. Azzopardi’s party, the Labour Party, was accused of being out of touch, elitist.

So, what can we do? First, we can call out these tactics for what they are: attempts to distract from real issues, to dehumanize opponents, to appeal to the worst in us. We can demand better from our politicians, from ourselves. We can insist on policy debates, not personal attacks.

In Malta, that means pushing back against the echo chambers. It means demanding evidence-based policy, not ad hominem attacks. It means challenging our own biases, our own prejudices. It means remembering that intelligence isn’t a zero-sum game. That a country’s strength isn’t measured by its leaders’ IQ, but by its people’s compassion, its institutions’ integrity.

As we navigate these turbulent political waters, let’s remember the words of Malta’s own Nationalist Party leader, Edward de Bono: “Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to look at things in a different way.” Let’s break out of these tired, divisive patterns. Let’s demand more. Let’s be more.