Its 36,000 vote majority has all but disappeared in three years. Its government is rocked by scandal. But Labour isn’t sinking. Malta is. The pillars of law and order are swaying, the ground is yawning beneath us.
The judiciary? In the last 15 years – the blink of an eye for an ancient institution – the following has happened. A chiefjustice has been jailed for corruption. Another judge went to jail, a thirdkilled himself to avoid the same fateand a fourth avoided impeachment thanks to, shall we say, friendly parliamentary procedure.
The police force? Four commissioners in less than three years. One is shown to be in business, together with his sons, against any honest policeman’s code of behaviour. Is he ostracised? Well, the Justice Minister cannot bring himself to give an explicit vote of confidence, despite persistent press questions. But the disgraced former commissioner is still awarded a government sinecure.
The army? Within less than three years, the entire top echelon of the army is replaced. Within about three weeks, a major is promoted to army commander.
There are conflicting interpretations of these events. The conspiracy theorists insist on a systemic takeover of the country. Others insist on a silver lining. Three judges nabbed taking bribes? Shows crime detection is alive and well. An entrepreneurial acting police commissioner? Maybe he did it for the family, a motive that’s always pure: a strong family makes for a strong society.
As for the disappearance of an entire officer class: maybe the real problem lay with them, not with their removal, which saved the army not a moment too soon.
No matter the interpretation, however, one conclusion is inescapable. Three pillars of law and order are wobbly, standing on shifting ground.
The pillars are swaying in a social context. If only the institutions were weak but the society somehow strong. However, society looks increasingly out of its depth. The crime reports – rapidly self-made businessmen who flee loan sharks, a spate of assassinations – strongly suggest that organised crime has infiltrated the economy. How long the process has taken isn’t clear but it can now hardly keep below the surface.
Meanwhile, allegations of corruption and swindling are swirling around Malta’s international reputation. One Maltese European Commissioner, John Dalli, was made to resign under suspicion of having solicited bribes. He denies the allegations, insisting on a frame-up. But so far the allegations continue to stain the reputation of the country.
Likewise, the discovery that a senior minister has a company in Panama, and the Prime Minister’s top aide companies in Panama and the British Virgin Islands. In themselves, these facts damage the country’s reputation since – whether or not money laundering and graft are actually involved in these cases – international opinion will assume that corruption is the operative word.
Moral leadership from the Prime Minister is vital. That is the only way in which the instability can be shown to be a passing event
Against this background, moral leadership from the Prime Minister is vital. That is the only way in which the instability can be shown to be a passing event, not something that defines our modus operandi. The Prime Minister must demand the resignations of Konrad Mizzi and Keith Schembri.
There is no other way the country can insist on its integrity and the probity of its institutions. Yet Joseph Muscat refuses to do what any European Prime Minister would do in the circumstances.
Muscat is justifying his inaction by invoking a better way of proceeding. He awaits, he says, for the results of an investigation, until he has the facts in hand. That, he says, is the proper way. No, it’s not.
First, the best practice in other countries shows that ministers resign when faced with grave allegations. Then, there’s an investigation, which might even vindicate them.
In the UK, David Blunkett, then home affairs minister, resigned in the faceof charges later show to be false. Butno one has ever argued that he should not have resigned. In resigning, he did the right honourable thing by the institution he led.
What grounds does Muscat have for saying he should follow a different procedure? None. His insistence that he should inflicts a separate wound on our system of governance.
Second, Muscat’s reputation for dealing with the results of an investigation are ambiguous, at best. He boasts of having sacked Manuel Mallia and Michael Falzon after having reports that damned them in hand. What he actually did was slightly different.
He sacked them and then almost immediately took part in a Labour rally where the sacked minister was praised and hailed for his honourable behaviour. In other words, he drew a line and immediately erased it. How does that address the problem of reputation, integrity and high standards?
It’s not just political accountability that Muscat is treating in a cavalier manner. Legal accountability does almost as well. The entrepreneurs behind the Żonqor higher education institution have been warned that, by persisting to call their enterprise ‘American University of Malta’, when they have no university licence, they are in breach of Maltese law. But the Prime Minister, the lawmaker in chief, himself publicly and defiantly continues to refer to it as a university.
What signal about respect for the rule of law does that send to anyone?
Muscat is assuring us that his government will spend the second half of its mandate addressing issues of good governance. He makes it sound like a big long project.
But the most powerful steps he can take require only two quick actions: asking Mizzi and Schembri to go.
If he doesn’t, no big long project of good governance initiatives will do the trick. No system of laws and rules can cover every instance of malfeasance and wrongdoing. An institutionalised process is essential, yes, but without moral leadership it is nothing.
No high standard of public life stands any chance of application.
Maybe Muscat knows this already but won’t act. Maybe he simply can’t see it. Either way, it is scandalous in itself that he won’t or can’t.
Perhaps it is the worst scandal of all. Maltese institutions are weak all around us, and we cannot count on brisk decisive action from the very top.