Alex Borg: The Maltese Politician Making Morality Go Viral Ahead of EU Elections

Alex Borg and the politics of moral purpose
By Hot Malta Staff

Valletta’s Republic Street was still yawning itself awake last Saturday when Alex Borg stepped onto the makeshift stage outside Parliament and asked the crowd a deceptively simple question: “What kind of Malta do we want to leave behind?”
The answer, shouted back by pensioners, students, and Gozitan farmers who had boarded the 5 a.m. ferry, was less a slogan than a confession: “One we’re not ashamed of!”

In a country where political rallies are usually colour-coded and bussed in by the thousands, Borg’s gathering felt almost subversive: no party flags, no pumped-in euro-pop, just a white banner reading “Għandna Xbieha—We Have a Choice.” The 38-year-old former NGO lawyer, turned independent candidate for the upcoming European Parliament election, is riding a wave that Malta hasn’t seen since the 1980s: politics framed explicitly as a moral crusade rather than a tribal sport.

From the balcony of his Sliema townhouse, Borg has watched the skyline mushroom with cranes. “We sold the myth that prosperity equals concrete,” he tells me over a glass of kinnie in the shade of a jacaranda. “But prosperity without purpose is just a pyramid scheme.” It’s a line that has gone viral on Maltese TikTok, cut over footage of ODZ rubble and traffic jams that stretch from Marsa to Mellieħa.

Borg’s critics—mostly seasoned party propagandists who dismiss him as “naïve” or, worse, “NGO-bred”—miss the cultural nerve he has struck. In a nation whose founding myth is the shipwreck of St Paul, redemption narratives run deep. The parish-level language of sin and grace still shapes kitchen-table conversations, even among the proudly secular. By invoking “moral purpose,” Borg is not importing American-style culture-war rhetoric; he is, perhaps unconsciously, translating Catholic social teaching into post-secular policy: stewardship of land, protection of the vulnerable, and a blistering critique of “the sin of indifference.”

The numbers suggest he is no fringe preacher. A January MaltaToday survey puts independents and third parties at 18 %—a figure unimaginable five years ago. More tellingly, 42 % of first-time voters say they want candidates “who prioritise values over party.” Borg’s Facebook Lives, streamed in Maltese, English, and subtitled for the deaf community, regularly outdraw cabinet press conferences. During last month’s vigil for slain journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia, attendees broke into spontaneous chants of “Alex! Alex!” when he arrived carrying a single white candle. The moment was clipped and shared 40,000 times within hours, eclipsing both major party leaders’ statements.

Yet the impact is felt beyond metrics. In Qormi, bakery owner Maria Pace instituted a “zero-single-use-plastic” pledge after Borg publicly returned a corporate gift wrapped in cellophane. In Għaxaq, teenagers cleaned up a neglected playground and rechristened it “Il-Pjazzetta tal-Purpose,” spray-painting Borg’s hashtag on the swings—only to be reprimanded by the local priest, who nonetheless praised their “evangelical zeal for the common good.” Even veteran PL strategist Luke Dalli admitted on NET TV that Borg had “forced us to put ethics on the agenda,” a concession that sparked a three-hour programme on TVM.

Still, the establishment is pushing back. A PN MEP candidate recently warned that “moralising politics leads to puritanical extremes,” while a government Facebook page implied Borg’s campaign is foreign-funded, dredging up old tropes of “Soros interference.” Borg laughs off the attacks, pointing to his transparent donor list—€17,432 in small donations, average contribution €28. “If that’s a conspiracy, it’s a very Maltese one—funded by pastizzi money.”

Walking back through Valletta’s newly pedestrianised streets, Borg stops to greet a group of Asian tourists struggling with a map. He gives directions, then slips them a flyer: “Come to our clean-up at St Peter’s Pool next Sunday—bring sunscreen and good intentions.” They nod, bemused but charmed.

Love him or eye-roll at him, Alex Borg has cracked open a conversation that Malta can no longer avoid: can a country that moved from austerity to affluence in one generation now afford a politics of convenience? Or will it risk a prosperity that feels morally bankrupt every time another ODZ field is carved, another historic façade draped in LED adverts?

As the sun sets over the Grand Harbour, Borg offers his own closing argument: “We are the first generation that can’t blame the British, the Knights, or the EU. The choices are ours, and so is the reckoning.” Whether that reckoning translates into seats in Brussels or merely into a guilty conscience remains to be seen. But for now, the politics of moral purpose has a Maltese face—and it is staring straight into ours.