Apart from irregular migration, there can hardly be a more topical subject in Malta today than politics and morality, the theme chosen by The Strickland Foundation for its Mabel Strickland Memorial Lecture on Thursday.
The theme is hardly ever off the radar in all democratic countries as sleaze and scandals rock governments and lead to resignations of ministers and MPs. Despite people’s revulsion at wrongdoing by politicians who, most agree, ought to lead by example, the movement towards higher standards and accountability in politics is slow as self-interest often leads politicians to slip up.
Malta is, of course, far from being an exception when it comes to wrongdoing, and indeed the subject appears to be surfacing here far more often than in the past. In the introduction to her book Politics and Morality, Susan Mendus, the University of York professor emerita in political philosophy who will be giving the memorial lecture, poses a key question: Are politicians morally worse than the rest of us?
She writes: “When we elect our rulers we have no guarantee that they will always put the interests of the state before their personal interests and, if they do not, then politics and morality come apart. But even… if we select as our rulers those whom we trust to put the interests of the state above all other considerations, we may still find that social stability and political security require deception, albeit in the form of a ‘noble’ lie. Either way, it seems, politics and morality are uneasy bedfellows, and this was something that was recognized as far back as the fourth century BC.”
Of course, not all politicians are necessarily worse than the rest of us, as the string of scandals, irregularities, impropriety or misconduct by ordinary people and by others occupying high positions amply shows. However, the point is that politicians who seek and win the people’s trust to represent them in Parliament expect them to act correctly and be accountable for their actions.
Such trust is breached whenever correct ethical behavior is set aside for personal interest, as in the case of the latest Swiss Leaks revelations. It must have been terribly hard, for instance, when, the other day, a former minister had to admit his wrongdoing when he failed to declare in his ministerial declaration of assets funds he had deposited in a Swiss bank account and to repatriate them in time.
He made an apology, saying: “As a result of these omissions, I have failed my Prime Minister, my parliamentary colleagues and the electorate who had given me their trust by voting for me.” He had regularised his position long before the Swiss Leaks story broke out and the way he expressed his regret must have been a long-overdue catharsis for him.
However, no apologies are usually made when MPs spend more than they are allowed to in election campaigns, when they fail to follow procedure, or when government ministers, or officials of government entities, fail to abide by good governance norms.
Last year, no fewer than 16 MPs from one party failed to submit their declaration of assets to Parliament as they were bound to do by the deadline set by the Speaker of the House of Representatives. These and so many other failures keep adding to the accumulation of reasons for the decline in trust in politicians.
Politicians may not be morally worse than the rest of us, but since, if elected, they become representatives of the people, they are then expected to act correctly all the time.