When analysing the political scene in Britain eight years ago, one of Britain’s most prestigious newspapers, The Daily Telegraph, made a profound remark that Maltese politicians would do well to keep well in mind. “Politicians,” it said, “are not doing us an honour by sitting on the green benches; we are doing them an honour by investing in them the power to make decisions about our daily lives as our elected representatives. Too few appear to grasp this point.”
Many of the politicians not only think they are doing the people a favour when they sit in Parliament but, in no time after being elected, they start becoming arrogant, omnipotent and, sometimes, even rude.
When, over and above this, those who are supposed to set the bar to high standards in public life choose to ignore all semblance of correctness, the situation becomes anomalous and morally untenable. This is the sad state Malta finds itself in today.
We are not talking here about a smart self-serving MP parking his car on double yellow lines or about those that expect special treatment, such as jumping the queue to board a Gozo ferry. These and other examples of crude errant behaviour are indicative of the arrogance many representatives of the people wrongly regard as part of the privilege voters give them to represent them in Parliament.
However, far more disturbing than the self-importance and arrogance so many of the MPs show is the absolute lack of good governance at the highest level of the administration.
The absolute disregard to ethical behaviour in governing, as displayed by the Prime Minister in the Panama Papers scandal, is the epitome of all that ought not to happen at any level of the administration, let alone at the very top of the government. Treating the opening of secret companies by top government people in a tax haven as lightly as he has done is the antithesis of good governance.
Rather than bowing out of their political and administrative roles altogether, Konrad Mizzi and Keith Schembri were kept in their place, brazenly defying public sentiment against what most regard as a highly objectionable attitude.
Prime Minister Joseph Muscat, too, ought to have stepped down. Instead, he has called a snap election.
In staying in their post, they have gone against those who still have a strong moral fibre. But since Dr Muscat is presumably banking on the premise that the country has lost such rectitude, it is now up to the electorate to show this is not the case.
All told, this is what this is election is all about. All else is not immaterial but comes well below the upholding of morally good guiding principles.
It is those who prefer using their own minds when voting – the uncommitted voters – that will ultimately decide this critically important issue. These have the power to redirect the island’s political orientation from one that has, as its core, self-service and self-preservation, to one that is morally sound, where what is intrinsically wrong is not justified on any grounds.
When a leader loses ethical values, he loses moral authority.
It is still time to take politics out of the deep mire into which it has sunk. The decision lies in the hands of the electorate.