Alex Borg Q&A: How the PN Plans to Crowdfund Its Way Back to Trust

Full Q&A: Alex Borg on PN financing, winning trust, and his father’s influence
By Hot Malta Staff | 09 June 2025, 07:30 CEST

The door of the PN club in Żejtun creaks open at 6.45 a.m., half an hour before the first espresso is usually pulled. Alex Borg is already inside, sleeves rolled up, wiping last night’s tali-tal-cups off the counter. In a country where political headquarters double as village cafeterias, the scene is almost cinematic: a 34-year-old accountant—now the Nationalist Party’s newly-appointed finance chief—literally cleaning house before he talks numbers.

“Qabel ma nidħol f’kontijiet, nħossni li rrid naddaf ukoll,” he jokes, echoing the Maltese obsession with starting the day spotless. Over the next 45 minutes Borg, son of former minister and veteran Żejtun doctor Joe Borg, unpacks how he plans to refill a war-chest that leaked €3.2 million in the last electoral cycle, why trust in the PN is measured in parish-square conversations rather than TV soundbites, and what it means to carry a surname that opens doors but also raises eyebrows.

HOT MALTA: Let’s start with the obvious: the PN is broke. Where do you begin?

ALEX BORG: First, by stopping the romantic idea that a political party is a charity. We need to run like a social enterprise—clear products, clear returns. In the next eight weeks we’re launching “Partit għalik”, a micro-donor platform capped at €50 a month. If 10,000 people give €10, that’s a million a year. We already have 1,800 sign-ups from Gozo alone—farmers, pensioners, even band club treasurers. Maltese love a kolezzjoni when they believe in the cause.

HM: Micro-donations sound very… digital. Your core voter is 55-plus and still reads It-Torċa in print.

AB: True, but remember our village feasts are financed cent by cent. Same psychology: ħadd ma jistħi jagħti ħames ewro f’borża tal-ħġieġ. We’re pairing the online drive with tin-collection boxes at 42 parish bars. The trick is transparency—every donor gets a quarterly SMS showing how much we spent on electricity bills versus Facebook ads.

HM: The PL accuses the PN of being “the party of big business”. How do you shake off that image without alienating donors who can write €50,000 cheques?

AB: By capping single donations at €25,000 and publishing names quarterly. If you want secrecy, give to charity, not to a democratic process. We’re also proposing a tax rebate—up to €150—for political donations, similar to the UK Gift Aid scheme. That levels the field: a pensioner gets the same fiscal benefit as a hotel magnate.

HM: Your father, Joe Borg, served in cabinet during the EU accession years. How has his shadow shaped your approach?

AB: Dad taught me that politics is 80% listening. When he was health minister he held Saturday surgeries—literally, medical ones—in the same clinic where he once delivered half of Żejtun. People paid with eggs and rabbit meat. I translate that into finance: before I sign off on any budget line I spend one morning a week in a different local market—Birgu today, Marsaxlokk next week—asking what “financial transparency” even means to someone selling ġbejniet.

HM: Critics say you’re only in this role because of the surname.

AB: I invite them to audit our books from 2021, when I was voluntary treasurer for the Żejtun feast committee. We turned a €38,000 deficit into a €12,000 surplus in 14 months, all while increasing fireworks by 20%. If I can balance pyrotechnics and parish priests, I can balance a party budget.

HM: Trust in politicians is at rock bottom after the hospitals scandal. Why should anyone believe the PN’s new numbers?

AB: Because we’re opening the ledger—live. On 30 June we’ll stream a four-hour “Open Ledger Sunday” on Facebook. Anyone can log in, ask why we spent €400 on ħobż biż-żejt for a Żurrieq activity, and see the receipt in real time. It’s Maltese accountability: if your neighbour can see your roof, you won’t build illegally.

HM: Last question: what does success look like in two years?

AB: That a 19-year-old University student who voted PL in 2022 feels comfortable enough to donate €5 from her stipend. When trust crosses party lines, we stop being “il-PN” and start being “il-Malta”. And maybe, just maybe, Dad can finally retire from the clinic without anyone asking him if I’m hiring.

As we wrap up, the first regular walks in—an 82-year-old man who remembers campaigning with Borg’s grandfather. Alex pours his coffee, slips a receipt into the transparent jar labelled “għall-Partit”, and scribbles the amount in a ledger that stays on the counter for anyone to inspect. In a nation where political colours are passed down like grandma’s fenkata recipe, that small act of openness might be the first ingredient in a new, more trusted stew.