Modern history has been peppered with people demanding apologies for past acts committed by countries, parties, organisations and individuals. Most often those who have faced the music had nothing to do with what happened. But it is they who have had to scoop up the mess in an attempt to make amends.

The 1970 image of then West German chancellor Willy Brandt falling to his knees at a monument paying tribute to Jews who died in a Warsaw ghetto at the hands of the Nazis is, perhaps, the most resonant. Germany, today a friend of every nation, has not looked back since.

But there have been other less demonstrative actions. The Vatican apologised on behalf of the whole Roman Catholic community for failing to speak out against the holocaust, while Japan also issued an apology for the wartime suffering the country inflicted on others during the war. There have been apologies by colonial powers to countries' indigenous people and remorse expressed for cases of physical and sexual abuse.

Since the hurt among the affected parties is often intense, the expectations regarding the form an apology should take are invariably high. People want direct words, and it has therefore proved easy - through the use of imprecise diplomatic language favoured by many - to disappoint.

Joseph Muscat was walking a tightrope last Thursday when he decided, of his own volition it seems, to pass comment on the 30-years-to-the-day events - primarily the burning down of The Times building and the attack on Eddie Fenech Adami's home and family - that have come to be known as Black Monday.

A number of Labour supporters were clearly in no mood for any kind of apology. The virulent comments posted by a number of them on our website in reaction to a straightforward Black Monday documentary, quite incredibly accusing our media organisation of bringing up the subject to divert attention from present day affairs, was pointed evidence of that.

And Dr Muscat's hands were further tied by his efforts to build bridges with the faction of his party that is still sympathetic to Dom Mintoff - who as Prime Minister was the man responsible for law and order when these two shameful events took place.

So when he addressed a public talk organised by the Tumas Fenech Foundation for Education in Journalism on an unrelated theme, the most Dr Muscat could bring himself to say was that the acts "should never have happened" and that "much more could have been done to avoid them".

Yes, he placed those comments in the conciliatory context of a statement he made on the dawn of his leadership, going further than any of his predecessors, when he apologised to all those who may have been hurt by the actions of "those who used the Labour Party". But Dr Muscat stopped short, deliberately no doubt, of apologising on behalf of the party for what happened on Black Monday.

This may appease his supporters, but it shows that the party is not yet mature enough to explicitly recognise its past mistakes and move on.

Had he said nothing, the Labour leader would have been accused of being insensitive. But while it was not necessary to emulate Mr Brandt's example, perhaps Dr Muscat should have opted not to speak on that day at all given he was not prepared to go all the way and make a direct apology.