There is no doubt that Robert Abela is a skilful lawyer. His well-publicised wealth can only be attributed to an array of clients who request his expertise in law.
Abela continues on a trend of a litany of Maltese lawyers who went on to become prime ministers.
In the matrix of politics, the distinction between a legal mind and a compassionate leader is crucial. And this is especially the case for those at the top.
Abela was legal adviser to the cabinet during Joseph Muscat’s tenure. His evolution to prime minister should have transitioned him from not only interpreting laws but also to constantly resonate with the hopes and even grievances of the citizens.
And four years into his leadership, Abela finds himself at a juncture where his words and actions speak volumes about his approach to justice, governance and social solidarity.
Two of his recent decisions have raised the question of whether Abela remains entrenched in the mindset of a lawyer. And with all due respect to lawyers, when it comes to Abela we are starting to fear a detachment from the humanity and humbleness often needed to define leadership.
Exhibit one: Abela refused to apologise for having breached ethics over a Facebook advert when the commissioner for standards in public life offered to close the case if the prime minister just accepted to make an apology.
In the grander scheme of things, where corruption is nowadays par for the course, the Facebook incident was minor.
With the standards commissioner, the correct approach for someone in Abela’s position would have been to demonstrate respect for the importance of the office of the standards commissioner and apologise, as he was asked. Finance Minister Clyde Caruana had done so when he was found guilty of a similar minor ethics breach.
Instead, Abela dug his heels in, refusing to accept the finding over a mere Facebook advert, and argued his rights to a fair hearing were breached because he was not given the chance to produce evidence. He even blamed the people who made the video rather than accept responsibility.
Exhibit two: the handling of the Jean Paul Sofia inquiry was a masterclass of how not to do things and underscored a disconnect between legal reasoning and empathetic governance.
Despite the painful cries of the victim’s mother and the protests of a remarkable cross-section of society, Abela refused to hold a public inquiry, insisting that a magisterial investigation was enough.
The prime minister was forced to do a U-turn, shortly before thousands of people gathered outside his office in protest, sparking a public inquiry which proved the importance of X-raying the construction sector.
Labour MP Randolph De Battista had the decency to express shame for rejecting a public inquiry. His colleague Carmelo Abela went one step further: “The consideration then (to vote down a PN call for a public inquiry) was a legal one when, perhaps in certain circumstances, emotion should have won over legality.”
Let’s remember this came shortly after the prime minister also dismissed calls for a public inquiry into the death of Miriam Pace, who was also crushed to death in a construction accident. The recurring theme of sidelining humanitarian appeals in favour of legalistic arguments – we have seen this happen too often in the context of boat migrant crises – reflects a certain insensitivity.
It would be unfair to brand Abela as a heartless leader – there have been moments, especially during the pandemic, when he put compassion before everything else.
But as he approaches his fifth year, he needs to recalibrate his priorities, where empathy, humility and compassion take precedence over legal issues.