Manuel Mallia’s personal 2013 election slogan was: ‘In your name with assiduousness, competence and professionalism’ (F’ismek b’serjetá, ħila u professjonalitá). A week after the notorious shooting scandal that began in Gżira, and which has reached the steps of Castille, is there anything of that slogan that isn’t in tatters?

Every new detail of the affair that leaks out into the public domain, every assurance and disavowal from the minister, serve only to rip that slogan further. There has been no sign of competence and professionalism in the handling of the affair. On the contrary, all the evidence suggests that, if Mallia’s ministry was not involved in a deliberate attempt to misinform the media, then it was remarkably sloppy in seeking to establish what happened – culpable carelessness in the face of the gravity of what happened.

As for assiduousness, it has been conspicuous by its absence. The affair did not stop with the shooting. Nor did it end with the preliminary official misinformation concerning whether the shots were fired in the air or at an unarmed man in a car.

A series of police irregularities and outright blunders followed over the ensuing week – accompanied only by the resounding silence of the minister who has, up till now, been keen to take the political credit for police reform.

As for the very beginning of the slogan, ‘In your name...’, is there anyone who seriously doubts that there is an overwhelming majority in the country – perhaps nearly twice as large as the votes garnered by the Nationalist Party in the 2013 election – that wants Mallia out?

The thing that Mallia can now do in people’s name is to resign.

But are the people, after all, right?

This column has argued, in the past, against unnecessary ministerial resignations, even if they were by popular demand. It has also argued that, elsewhere in the area of liberal democracies, ministerial resignations had at least as much to do with the timing of a scandal, as with the substantive issues involved.

The Prime Minister has himself taken the route of ordering an inquiry by three retired judges – a fire-fighting measure to which Westminster itself is no stranger. It was most famously tried in the aftermath of the ‘sexed-up dossier’ that served to persuade the House of Commons of the case of going to war with Saddam Hussein’s Iraq. The 2004 Hutton report cleared Tony Blair’s government of any wrongdoing, finding no ‘smoking gun’ of knowing government intervention.

The British public remained sceptical. Partly it was because Blair’s government had such a reputation for micro-managing public information; it became impossible to believe that it wouldn’t have done so in such a crucial instance. But it was also because the Hutton inquiry was, in a way, beside the point.

The public was not interested only in what really happened. It also wanted the government to assume political responsibility for a war undertaken on seriously misleading information.

The doctrine of political responsibility – associated in particular with the Westminster system, which we have – does not depend on a minister’s personal guilt. In its classical form, the doctrine states that a Cabinet minister bears ultimate responsibility for the actions of his ministry. He is responsible for any misbehaviour even if he had no knowledge of those actions before they came to public light.

Twelve years ago, the then UK education minister resigned after a scandal over A-level marking. Twenty years before, Lord Carrington resigned as foreign secretary (together with another two junior foreign office ministers) over the invasion of the Falklands – even though any UK negligence there involved the Ministry of Defence and the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, herself; Carrington certainly did not think that he bore personal responsibility.

Manuel Mallia is irreparably damaged, even if he survives politically

Political responsibility, therefore, has to do with the responsibility of office – with restoring the credibility of office, in particular. Honourable politicians might do it as a matter of public duty and not necessarily out of a sign of personal culpability.

And assigning judges – trained and directed to find guilt beyond reasonable doubt – is beside the point. The doctrine of political responsibility is not based on ferreting out secrets.

In the case of Mallia, however, one does not need to rely on an austere application of the doctrine. His handling of the case has been so inept as to erode the public’s trust in him.

Two sets of issues stick out in particular.

The doctrine of political responsibility is particularly clear when persons in a position of the minister’s trust are involved. In this case, two such persons are involved: the minister’s erstwhile driver, Paul Sheehan, and his chief of staff, Silvio Scerri.

Mallia has strenuously tried to suggest that Sheehan was not his active choice. He continually says that the driver was “assigned” to him, thus putting some distance between them.

That a Maltese Cabinet minister does not actively choose his driver would be a first – given that the driver is in a position to overhear so much. It is a position of trust if there ever was one.

In this case, however, the distance that Mallia tries to imply with one carefully chosen verb is negated by another of his protests. He says he trusted Sheehan so much that he even trusted him with the care of his daughter. In which case, there is no question that the driver had the trust of the minister. And such mistaken trust is grounds for resignation on the doctrine of political responsibility.

Even more clear is the case of Scerri, the chief of staff, accused by one section of the media of insisting with its newsroom that the shots fired were warning shots. There is no doubt that, if the accusations are true, he behaved with politically reprehensible carelessness (to put it mildly) on a grave matter. And the doctrine of political responsibility states that the minister is responsible, too.

The second set of issues concerns the conduct of the police. The force has committed a stunning number of irregularities in this case. Not only did it delay in interrogating Sheehan. It violated routine procedures in the collection of evidence.

The violations were a matter of public knowledge. Yet, not once (up till Tuesday morning) did the minister voice his unease at this misconduct.

Nor can he claim that he could not afford to be involved. One of the possible sources of evidence is (or rather was) his own ministerial car. The minister, as an experienced criminal lawyer, should know that it was necessary to conduct forensic checks on it before the evidence was spoiled. It seems that none were conducted – a claim made by the Opposition and left (up till the time of writing) uncontradicted.

If the claims are true, then we don’t need to conclude the minister was personally involved in a cover up of the evidence. It is enough to know that he was personally sitting on some of it.

The case has irreparably damaged Mallia’s credibility. The case touches his judgement and his ability to reform the police. It even affects another part of his portfolio, public broadcasting, given the way the latter lagged behind other media in the accuracy of its reporting. The lag may have been innocent but who will believe that now?

Mallia is irreparably damaged, even if he survives politically. What Joseph Muscat needs to decide is whether he can afford to be damaged by association.

ranierfsadni@europe.com