Selective Activism and Exploitation of Tragedy: The Hypocrisy of Feminist Groups in Malta
The local media recently reported on a gruesome murder involving a Colombian national in Malta. A Colombian man, allegedly being used as a drug mule, was killed, and his body was discovered in a disturbing state, with multiple versions circulating regarding the cause of death. However, what is striking about this case is not just the crime itself but the silence surrounding it.
This silence becomes all the more evident when compared to a murder that occurred just a few months ago. At that time, another Colombian national, Sandra Ramirez, was stabbed 26 times—an act of brutal violence that rightly shocked the nation. Feminist groups and women’s organisations immediately seized upon the tragedy, launching campaigns and delivering vociferous public condemnations against violence. The Domestic Violence Commissioner also weighed in, proposing a campaign to “educate” foreign nationals, including Colombians, about respecting women. The demands were precise: more funding was needed to combat domestic violence and promote awareness.
Yet, where did this funding end up? Predictably, it flowed into the same familiar networks—associations and organisations often run by interconnected individuals, whether through blood, marriage or shared political affiliations. These groups positioned themselves as defenders of justice and equality while, in practice, siphoning resources to sustain their operations under the pretence of combating violence. Tragedy became a vehicle for financial gain.
Now, in the case of the murdered Colombian man, the silence is deafening. The circumstances are no less horrific. If the violent death of a Colombian woman warranted national campaigns, public statements, and funding, why does the murder of a Colombian man evoke none of the same outcry? Why are these organisations—the self-styled champions of the vulnerable—not rallying behind this victim?
The most glaring difference, of course, is that the victim is a man this time. Notably, the murdered man reportedly lived with a disability, a detail that typically elicits concern and advocacy from those who claim to work on behalf of society’s marginalised. Ironically, within the same ideological framework, persons with disabilities are often grouped alongside women as victims of a patriarchal system. And yet, their voices remain silent.
This inconsistency reveals an uncomfortable truth: for these organisations, tragedies are not universally condemnable; they are opportunities to be selectively exploited. When a woman is murdered, it becomes a rallying point, often accompanied by demands for financial support. When a man—disabled or otherwise—is killed, the same organisations remain passive, exposing a bias rooted not in compassion but in opportunism.
It is worth questioning whether the funding these associations demand is genuinely aimed at fostering societal change or merely at maintaining their own relevance and financial stability. By commodifying violence and tragedy, they reduce serious issues—like domestic violence and societal marginalisation—to transactional opportunities.
If these organisations genuinely care about combating violence and protecting vulnerable individuals, their response should be consistent, regardless of the victim’s gender or the circumstances of the crime. Otherwise, their silence only confirms the suspicion that their advocacy is less about justice and more about serving their interests.
The murder of Sandra Ramirez was a tragedy that deserved attention, but so too was the murder of this Colombian man who had a disability. The hypocrisy of selective activism should not go unnoticed. Maltese society must begin to ask difficult questions about who benefits when such tragedies occur—and who remains silent when no financial gain is at stake.
