Budget week is Malta’s biggest political ritual. It’s when the country briefly stops pretending not to care about politics and tunes in to see what’s in it for them.Ministers beam with rehearsed benevolence, civil servants perform their annual Excel gymnastics, and everyone else hopes for a cheque or two. But for the Opposition, it’s something else entirely: an audition. And this year, all eyes were on Alex Borg, making his first big appearance as leader of the Opposition.Borg’s performance didn’t disappoint. For the first time in over a decade, the Nationalist Party looked like it had a leader who knew what he was doing — or at least, one who could convincingly act like he did. Borg’s posture, tone and general confidence were miles ahead of what the PN has managed since the days of Lawrence Gonzi.Simon Busuttil always came across like the sort of person who’d file a complaint about the noise level at a village festa. Adrian Delia had flashes of charm and authenticity but often went off on tangents that made you forget what the point was. Bernard Grech’s speeches, meanwhile, had all the excitement of a PowerPoint presentation delivered after lunch.Borg was none of those things. He spoke with authority and without the perpetual defensiveness that’s come to define PN leaders since 2013. He didn’t look apologetic about leading the Opposition. He looked like he enjoyed it. And for a party that has spent the better part of a decade simply making up the numbers, that in itself is newsworthy.The content of Borg’s speech was, frankly, forgettable. It was billed as containing fifty proposals, though even his most ardent supporters would struggle to name three. Many were rehashed versions of government policies already in the pipeline, with a PN sticker hastily slapped on. But the remarkable thing was how little that seemed to matter. The general reaction from PN supporters – especially those who’d long stopped pretending to be excited by their own party – was broadly positive. Borg’s speech gave them something they haven’t felt in years: the sense that the PN might finally be in the game again.That reaction says more about where the party stands than about the content of the speech itself. Borg didn’t necessarily say anything new, but he reminded people what it looks like when a PN leader actually wants to win. Politics, after all, isn’t just about having the better argument; it’s about making people believe you can deliver it.The same instinct was on display in the so-called “ministerial pay rise” episode — an episode that perfectly captures both Borg’s audacity and the PN’s long-missing political instinct. The story began during the budget speech, when the PN’s social media team claimed that ministers had quietly awarded themselves a €1,700 pay rise. It was, at best, a half-truth. The increase stemmed from a collective agreement that raised all civil service salaries, to which ministers’ pay is pegged. Borg himself, as an MP, benefitted from the same mechanism a year earlier.By the time this was pointed out, Borg could have backtracked, clarified, or moved on. Instead, he doubled down. He declared that he would refuse the pay rise because it was “disrespectful” to people who were struggling — sidestepping the fact that he had already pocketed half of it.Normally, such a move would have blown up in the PN’s face. But this time, it didn’t. The controversy barely grazed him. Labour’s response – technically accurate, but tediously procedural – fell flat. Borg had done something his predecessors never managed: he set the tone of the debate.It’s hard to escape the conclusion that the “scandal” started from an error, one Borg then decided to weaponise. That tells us two things. First, he has a touch of the Machiavellian – something the PN has sorely lacked. Second, he has momentum, and he knows it. The party, for once, isn’t bleeding energy through internal feuds. And Borg, though still green in national politics, has what so many of his predecessors didn’t: the natural instinct to command attention.There’s a bit of Trump in him – not in ideology, but in method. Borg’s populism is Maltese in flavour: folksy, combative, and just irreverent enough to make people listen. He’s willing to bend the truth for the sake of a simple, resonant narrative. Labour, in contrast, finds itself explaining civil service pay scales and technical linkages – the political equivalent of reading the fine print out loud while your opponent steals the show.That instinct is dangerous, but it’s also effective. It breaks through the noise. It reminds people that politics is as much about emotion as it is about policy. Borg’s version of the truth might be economical, but it’s delivered with the conviction of someone who believes it – and that, politically speaking, is what counts. His budget rebuttal itself was testament to that. It wasn’t revolutionary, and it didn’t need to be. Malta’s problems today aren’t those of a nation searching for identity or freedom; they’re problems of management. How to make growth sustainable. How to address inequality. How to fix an administration that has grown too comfortable running the show and slowly pivoting to managing rather than governing. These aren’t issues that lend themselves to rousing reformist rhetoric – and Borg, to his credit, didn’t try to pretend they were.Instead, he focused on tone: calm, assertive, and engaging. He took the government to task over its broken promises and contradictory priorities. He reminded people that Labour has now been in power long enough to have run out of excuses. And crucially, he did it without sounding bitter or entitled. That may sound like a low bar, but in the PN’s case it’s practically a cultural reset.When Joseph Muscat took over the Opposition in 2008, he had the wind at his back. The PN was exhausted, out of ideas, and clinging to an increasingly conservative agenda. Muscat’s genius was to modernise the PL with a few simple, low-risk reforms that cost the country nothing and changed everything. Borg’s job is harder. He’s not facing a government that’s ideologically stale, but one that’s administratively bloated and politically fatigued. The challenge isn’t to out-reform Labour; it’s to convince the country that the PN can run the show better.The economy, meanwhile, isn’t in crisis. It’s simply running on autopilot. As Finance Minister Clyde Caruana recently put it, “when growth comes, you can’t be picky.” That’s both a pragmatic observation and a warning: Malta’s model still works, but only just. And for all the talk of high-value industries, the reality is that we haven’t invested nearly enough in them to see a meaningful shift anytime soon.In that sense, Borg’s lack of radical proposals might be more realistic than it seems. The country doesn’t need another “vision.” It needs more competent administration, credible institutions, and leaders who can speak like adults rather than accountants. Borg’s speech at least hinted that he understands that distinction – even if he hasn’t yet figured out what to do about it.So yes, the best PN budget speech in years barely said anything new. But that misses the point. Borg’s debut wasn’t about policy; it was about presence. He reminded people that leadership isn’t only about what you promise, but how you carry it. For the first time in years, people listened to a PN leader’s entire speech and came away thinking, “maybe.”The PN finally has a base to build on – a flicker of credibility and momentum. The next step, however, is the hardest: to turn performance into purpose. Borg has given the party a pulse. Now it needs substance – and the courage to stop trying to please everyone.•