The police and the media both play fundamental roles in ensuring the rule of law is observed and upheld within society. Citizens expect laws to be enforced. They also expect to be informed when they are not.

Those two roles – and the ethical questions surrounding decisions that concern them – were highlighted in recent days in the aftermath of two separate violent crimes that occurred on opposite sides of the country.

The optics of the first – a street fight between two men in Qawra – were especially bad. A black man was pictured all bloodied against a car after he was allegedly stabbed.

The second crime was just as serious: a man was stabbed in the back inside a residence in Cospicua, then made it to the town’s police station to report the assault.

Suspects in both those crimes were arraigned, separately, within hours of each other on Monday. But they were treated rather differently by the police.

The two Nigerian men involved in the Qawra fight were charged with injuring one another and breaching the peace. Police paraded them down Republic Street in Valletta on their way to court, in full view of cameras.

The two Maltese men charged with the Cospicua stabbing face attempted murder charges. They were brought to court away from the media lenses. Their photos were nowhere to be seen.

On social media, the Qawra case drew plenty of outrage. Much of it was racist and xenophobic, linking ‘foreigners’ to crime. Less was said about the two Maltese alleged to have stabbed a man in the back.

How much of that was due to the fact that people had seen pictures of the accused in one case, but not in the other? What responsibility do the police and media have in such cases?

We have enough racism as it is. The last thing we need is to feed our prejudices further

It is not the first time the media has been treated to this walk of shame in Malta’s busiest road. What raises questions is the apparently inconsistent way in which this practice is applied. Judging by local news feeds, it appears that it is mainly foreign suspects (many black) who are given this treatment.

The actions of the police in this case suggest an element of ‘showing off’, a cheap attempt at redeeming a force routinely criticised for not acting against big crime.

It also raises the possibility of xenophobia within the police force itself and suggests a selective and potentially prejudiced application of the rules.

The police should give the media access to information, including photos of accused, but there should be some clear – and equal – guidelines for doing so. Because without them, the suspicion arises that the police are selectively choosing which suspects deserve to be exposed, and which deserve to be shielded from public view. The ‘parading’ of suspects accused of criminal behaviour has a long and negative history. It has been extensively criticised for its undermining of the principle of innocent until proven guilty, and for its impact on the basic dignity and rights of those affected. 

Media houses like ours also have a role to play in combating such negative stereotypes. Editors are well-positioned to notice apparent disparities in the way police handle suspects and can choose not to play that game.

However, news sites compete for attention and outrage sells: if police serve up some suspects as media fodder, rest assured that some outlets will indulge. This is why we need clear guidelines – and agreed-upon rules – for how police present suspects to the media.

We have enough racism as it is. The last thing we need is to feed our prejudices further.