Well, The Rolling Stones had their own reasoning for painting it black, but surely this is not applied here and now. Released exactly 60 years ago, on 13 May 1966, The Rolling Stones looked at life from a darker tone, unlike the current situation locally, with hues of bright and pastels colours appearing overnight in the streets. Ever since the Prime Minister announced the election date for May 30, the transformation was immediate.
Driving to university, I lost count of the number of colourful billboards, reminding me that I am Malta, and also that it is time to breathe fresh air. Within minutes, streets were awash with bright and pastel hues, as banners appeared overnight, covering the landscape with happy colours signalling the unmistakable arrival of election fever.
This is not another reflection on party manifestos or political arguments. You will hear plenty of those in the coming days from analysts, at bus stops, in hairdressers, and across grocery counters. Instead, it is the visual landscape that draws my attention. How it shifts, how it asserts itself, and how it begins to shape meaning. At the centre of this transformation is colour. I find myself particularly drawn to decoding the billboards while stuck in traffic. Their carefully crafted, image-conscious branding, where every aesthetic choice is curated to appear contemporary, polished, and relatable. Why this interest on colours especially those used on billboards?
In political campaigns, colour is far more than decoration. It operates as a sociological tool, shaping identity, emotion, and collective behaviour. Campaign colours act as a kind of visual shorthand, allowing parties to communicate affiliation and values instantly, often accompanied by few words.
Colour also plays a powerful role in emotional mobilisation. Bright, saturated colours, such as reds or blues, are chosen not only for visibility but for their psychological impact. Red may evoke energy, urgency, and passion; blue can suggest stability, trust, and authority. These associations are not universal truths but culturally conditioned meanings that campaigns strategically deploy to evoke loyalty, excitement, or reassurance. In rallies and mass events, the repetition of colour, through flags, clothing, and lighting creates a sense of unity and emotional intensity, reinforcing collective enthusiasm.
Yet interestingly, we have seen the use of soft shades of pink behind the Prime Minister’s backdrops and in billboards. Soft pink in a political campaign tends to signal a message of approachability, calmness, and emotional sensitivity. Soft pink doesn’t shout, it invites. It often suggests a softer, more human side of politics, emphasising care, empathy, and connection rather than confrontation, an attempt to appear less aggressive and more inclusive to a broader or undecided audience.
At the same time, soft pink can blur traditional political signals. In places where party colours are strongly established like ours, introducing lighter or pastel tones may indicate an effort to rebrand or soften a party’s image from the traditional reds and blues, especially during campaign periods when the goal is to attract rather than divide.
Another key aspect is the territorialisation of space. During campaigns, colours spread across streets, balconies, and public areas, transforming the physical environment into a contested symbolic landscape. Neighbourhoods can become visually coded, reflecting political dominance or competition. This process turns everyday spaces into arenas of political expression, where colour marks presence, influence, and power.
In today’s campaigns, colour is woven seamlessly into branding strategies, bringing political communication ever closer to the language of marketing. Logos, social media visuals, and campaign merchandise all rely on consistent colour schemes to build recognition and foster loyalty, increasingly blurring the line between political participation and consumer culture.
Ultimately, this reminds us that colour is never just a surface detail. It plays a powerful role in shaping identity, stirring emotion, and, at times, reinforcing division. Politics is not only debated through speeches and policies. It is also lived and felt visually, in the colours that come to define the spaces around us.
As I write this, the general election draws ever closer. My thoughts turn to students on the eve of their exams, trying to focus on trigonometry while the streets fill with honking horns and whistles. What should be a time of concentration is instead coloured by distraction and noise, the soundscape of campaigning clashing with the pressure of assessment. The growing, almost palpable pre-election tension sits uneasily alongside the already heightened stress of exams.
My own colours also change as I think of little girls, including my daughter, and boys prepped up in their Holy Communion outfits, as they parade in front of polling centres. A highly politically charged atmosphere, turning what should be a calm soul-searching period into a muddled vote-catching climate. Ah, the joy of colourful chaos!
