Whatever Prime Minister Joseph Muscat says over the veracity of the declaration of assets and income submitted by his ministers, the truth is that the perception of the man in the street is different. And that ought to be somewhat worrying, not only to him as head of the Cabinet but, also, to the country.

Omissions, or what could be seen as incomplete or dubious entries, may provide grounds for the perception that the declarations ought to be taken with a pinch of salt. Of course, it is wrong to generalise, just as it is wrong to assume that past declarations filed under both previous Nationalist and Labour administrations were entirely correct.

The profusion of snide remarks that the recent declarations spawned served to feed the interests of political opponents and of others as well. Yet, the issues involved ought to be taken far more seriously if the purpose for which the declarations are submitted is to remain a useful tool to check any possibility of untoward enrichment through corruption. Since any hint of incorrectness throws doubt on the declarations of the individuals concerned, it should, logically, stand to reason that those required to declare their income and assets ought to be extra careful when filing their declarations.

Some have argued that under-declaration is an ingrained trait, which may be true, but people rightly expect those entrusted with their representation in Parliament to set an example by being fully transparent in the making their declarations. If they cannot be trusted to make a truthful declaration of income and assets, how can they then trusted to run a ministry?

Voters in a democracy expect their politicians to be transparent and accountable. Only recently, French Cabinet ministers were made to reveal their wealth following the huge controversy over a scandal involving the Budget Minister, who was charged with tax fraud after it was discovered he had a secret bank account.

One argument put forward in the debate that ensued was that the obligation to declare their wealth fostered a presumption of collective guilt, which was felt to be unjust.

It was argued that what really counted in assessing ministers’ integrity was not so much assets as interests.

But how would transparency be served if a minister shows a sudden sharp rise in assets?

Wouldn’t such sudden enrichment give rise to suspicion?

It would seem that some politicians think voters can be fooled all the time. Some of the time, yes, but surely not all the time. Just as voters can readily calculate whether a politician has gone over the limit in his/her election expenses, as has been the case at every election, they can also sniff wrongdoing in other matters.

Should Cabinet ministers and parliamentary secretaries be subjected to greater personal scrutiny?

Should they be totally prohibited from earning extra income?

Is it right to allow some to do so, on the pretext of one reason or another, but not others?

Ethics, transparency, accountability and responsibility all come into play in a delicate and sensitive area that needs to be addressed with fair-mindedness and objectivity.

This would do honour to those politicians in Malta’s political history who served their country well and to the best of their ability without seeking to enrich themselves in the process.