There are number of provisions in the Press Act – the main law in Malta which governs the print media – which are objectionable to journalists and in need of urgent reform: truth not being a complete defence to a libel action; the use of criminal libel as opposed to civil proceedings; the use of criminal action in the case of rights of reply. The list is long.

One, however, is unacceptable to the point that not another day should pass before this government – if it truly believes in the free press – amends it; because, as it stands, it hampers the public’s right to know what politicians are saying and doing, unless there is a newspaper that is willing to be repeatedly sued for doing its duty.

The offending provision in this case is section 12a, which states: “In proceedings instituted under this Act, it shall be a defence for the editor or the publisher to prove that the information published consisted of an accurate report of a speech made at an important public event by an identified person who knew or could have reasonably known or expected that the content of that speech was to be published in a newspaper... and that the publication of the speech was reasonably justifiable in a democratic society.”

What appears at first glance to be a defence for the press is actually a gross restriction, since excluded from its very limited scope (“speech made at an important public event”) are the most common types of comment taken by journalists from politicians these days; at press conferences, outside buildings where important meetings may have taken place and, crucially, interviews.

It is a fact of the modern world that speeches at important public events, whatever that may mean, are becoming fewer and farther between.

The practical consequences of this situation defy belief. When, just before the 2008 general election, The Sunday Times interviewed then Leader of the Opposition Alfred Sant, who claimed the entire Cabinet of the government of the day was corrupt, this newspaper had to make a decision: either refuse to print what he said, thereby denying its readers their right to know; or publish and risk being damned, or in this case sued by every single member of Cabinet for printing what a high profile politician said. We chose the former and were not ourselves sued.

Last week we carried an interview with Sliema’s mayor, then under the Nationalist Party’s umbrella, Nikki Dimech, who claimed he had been “framed” by the party’s general secretary, Paul Borg Olivier. Yet again, we were faced with an unnecessary dilemma: between printing a comment that was potentially libellous (in no way are we to know whether it is true or not) and exposing ourselves to the risk of being sued; or telling Mr Dimech to go elsewhere. Again, we published and are now waiting to see if there will be consequences in our regard.

The law as it stands means we are at the perennial mercy of politicians who (in addition to suing the person making the statement) can choose whether to fire the legal gun at us or not – when all we are doing is our duty to print what politicians are saying about events that take place in the country and about each other.

Whether a politician makes an allegation at the Granaries in front of thousands, on a street corner before a handful, or in the comfort of his living room in the company of just one interviewer, the public has a right to know. And the media have a right to be protected in these circumstances.