On Monday, the European Commission was criticised by a leading civil liberties network: the commission’s annual audit of democratic standards, Liberties says, is toothless. The pan-European network cited a handful of countries where rule of law is “in decline”. Among Poland, Hungary, Bulgaria and Romania, there is Malta.

Malta has scored badly on corruption and attacks on journalists. It also disregarded, completely or partially, the commission’s recommendations in 2023.

Two issues arise. One is fairness. What great entertainment it would be to see a government minister argue that rule of law need not be in decline just because massive sleaze was discovered in the issuing of car licences, identity cards and disability payments. Bad, perhaps. But not in decline. Surely, it’s an improvement over the power station and hospital heists?

Then there’s reputation management, which is vital for our economy. Robert Abela came to power when Malta’s reputation had (we thought) hit rock bottom. His predecessor had just won a kind of Oscar for corruption. Sometime later, our financial services were put on a grey list.

Thankfully, we soon came off. Abela boasted of fixing the reputational issues he had inherited.

Except he didn’t. Four years have passed and Malta is still criticised on the same issues that had precipitated the 2019 crisis, corruption and treatment of journalists.

To be clear, Malta isn’t being criticised for making no progress. It’s called out for sliding back. The charge is that we’re getting worse, not that we’re failing to recover. And there’s a powerful case to make based on information in the public domain.

A few years ago, the then chief justice publicly called out other State institutions. He felt he needed to spell out the obvious: all State institutions had to be functioning well for justice to be administered.

Fast forward. This year, a different chief justice had publicly to spell out the obvious: other State institutions must ensure that action is taken on court sentences. Otherwise, we might as well have no laws and no courts.

Then, there’s the treatment of free speech and journalism. Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of Daphne Caruana Galizia’s assassination. But the public inquiry’s major recommendations – for safer journalism – have not yet been implemented.

Worse, Abela has declared he’d like to see the reintroduction of criminal libel for journalists. It was removed in the wake of the murder. But it may make a comeback only a few years after it was struck off the books.

Worst of all is how the prime minister justifies it. He says it would only be applied to a few dissenters, “character assassins”. He has decided they do not qualify for all protections. Asked who he has in mind, he gives only dark hints.

What is Liberties to make of this? Consider the elements. Less than 10 years ago, government ministers and aides were calling Caruana Galizia a pseudo-journalist and character assassin. She was the target of multiple cases of criminal libel. Now, after a short break, new critics are targeted, while reintroducing criminal libel will have a chilling effect on others.

The backsliding is everywhere to see. It penetrates even the Labour Party- Ranier Fsadni

Who can be blamed for thinking we’re actually getting worse, not standing still? The first time round it was perhaps possible not to realise that journalists and critics are put in harm’s way when politicians target them. But now the mistake is being repeated despite all we know in hindsight.

The backsliding is everywhere to see. It penetrates even the Labour Party. Within the last eight years, the rules governing who could become deputy leader for party affairs have been reversed three times.

First, they were changed to accommodate Konrad Mizzi. His crony, Joseph Muscat, removed the condition that the role could not be held by an MP. Then, Abela, on becoming Labour leader, introduced that condition again – wanting to signal the end of Muscat’s way of doing things. This year, the reversal of the reversal has been reversed again.

What they did to the country, they’re now plainly doing to their own political party.

Against journalists they used law as a weapon, instead of a framework of guarantees. With cronies, public institutions take no action, making proper procedure their excuse.

With parliament, they used the possibility of co-option – designed for the exceptional case – to bypass voters several times. Co-option is used to make the parliamentary group more representative of the leader’s preferences, instead of the party supporters.

Now, within Labour itself, it’s clear the rules do not govern the game. They are aces up one’s sleeve, ready to be pulled out when necessary. The rules are personalised from one election to the next.

Personalised power is highly unstable. Muscat’s reign came to an abrupt end when it became clear, to his cabinet colleagues, that it was unsustainable. There followed a new government intent on taking corrective measures to stabilise the ship.

But it transpired that meaningful reform would sink the ship. The reforms were unsustainable. So only symbolic ones were made.

Now, even the token reforms are being reversed. We see before us a government caught in a bind: between cronyism that is destroying its popular support and reforms that would expose its rot.