The case for the resignation of Carmelo Abela, the minister without portfolio in the Office of the Prime Minister, should be open and shut. In any other democracy in western Europe, a minister in his position would resign. But Abela is a minister in Malta, not elsewhere in Europe, and that complicates his position.
In case you’ve managed to miss it, Abela is being investigated by the police in the face of accusations that he was the inside man in an attempted bank heist a decade ago.
Abela protests his innocence, although some of his answers on the matter invite incredulity. But both his innocence and credibility (and it’s possible to be simultaneously innocent and not believable) are beside the point. What matters here is political responsibility.
His guilt is for the police and courts to ascertain. In the court of public opinion what matters is the reputation of the government.
There is no doubt that, anywhere else with a government keen to protect its reputation, Abela would resign. Not in shame but as a declaration of honour. He’d continue to insist on his innocence but, at the same time, say it’s his responsibility to enable the government to continue its work serenely.
There’s a broader context here. The reason why Robert Abela is prime minister is because, only one-and-a-half years ago, the Office of the Prime Minister, under Joseph Muscat, was rocked by the scandal of the chief of staff, Keith Schembri, being investigated by the police in connection with corruption and an assassination.
That scandal continues to attract attention with fresh international headlines, some due to separate but related investigations. Our sitting president of the republic described the situation as one where a criminal gang had taken over the seat of the executive.
The investigation into Carmelo Abela now crops up: once more, a high-ranking official within the Office of the Prime Minister, a cabinet minister no less, is being investigated for involvement in a bank robbery with a violent shoot-out.
The fact that it’s under a new prime minister only makes it worse. It suggests – certainly to outside observers – that the problem is endemic and not of one rogue administration.
Is there anyone who seriously denies that, by remaining in office until his name is cleared, Abela is damaging the country’s reputation? That he is helping to perpetuate a bad name when the ostensible raison d’etre of the current government is to clean it up?
I repeat: Abela may be as clean as the driven snow. He’s certainly innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. He’s one of my district MPs and I once included him in my voting preferences. Let him, if he believes he’s in the right, sue the pants off his parliamentary nemesis, Jason Azzopardi. But his duty to the country, right now, is to resign.
Is there anyone who seriously denies that, by remaining in office until his name is cleared, Carmelo Abela is damaging the country’s reputation?- Ranier Fsadni
If it’s so simple, what is it that is complicating his position? Why, the behaviour of his fellow ministers, of course. It’s a major snag.
If you resign to send a message, you should reasonably expect the message to be understood. You want to be seen as honourable, not a fool.
The point of resigning honourably is to send a message that the government is above reproach and that its ministers are prepared to make personal sacrifices to serve the greater good.
But how can such a message be communicated when you’re surrounded by Cabinet colleagues who are anything but above reproach?
Forget the ministers widely considered to be incompetent or helpless. Like the poor, they will always be with us – in other governments elsewhere, too.
Just think of the ministers who have been subject of damning statements by the authorities. Several current ministers (never mind those who have recently resigned) are in this position.
Ian Borg, the transport and infrastructure minister, has had his sworn testimony openly disbelieved by a court magistrate, with the implication that Borg had cheated a vulnerable old man out of his property.
A judge found that Owen Bonnici, while in charge of the justice portfolio, had, multiple times, trampled over the right to freedom of expression. (I personally find credible Bonnici’s statement that he was implementing government policy. But that simply widens the circle of guilt; it doesn’t wipe it away.)
Ministers Michael Farrugia and Michael Falzon have been slammed by the National Audit Office for their role in the scandalous St Vincent De Paul Residence contract, which includes illegalities and eye-watering sums of money. They have barely acknowledged any wrongdoing.
Justyne Caruana was involved in that case as junior minister. She too has stood by that contract. She has also been publicly unrepentant about a contract given to a bosom friend. The prime minister took credit for rescinding it – an indirect but clear condemnation of the contract.
These are ministers condemned by other authorities; I do not include ministers who have been the subject of credible media revelations but who have not had judgement effectively passed on them by an authority of the state.
You may believe (as I do) that Abela would do the right thing if he resigned. But spare a thought for how he would struggle to find the right words to explain his action.
“I resign to make sure the government remains above reproach...”
Which response would hurt more? The public’s bitter laughter or his colleagues’ sly smirks?