Nothing to declare

If Malta wishes to abide by the conditions it accepted when ratifying the UN convention against corruption, the annual declaration of assets must be upgraded to reflect the seriousness of the exercise.

Cartoon by Mark Scicluna
Cartoon by Mark Scicluna

The annual declaration of assets by parliamentarians and members of the Cabinet has become a standing joke in Malta, in some recent cases literally, such as when former Labour MP Adrian Vassallo famously declared 'nine cats, a turtle and 400 birds' as among his 'assets'.

In other cases the joke is less immediately obvious. For many years now, MPs (especially Cabinet ministers) have been openly minimalist regarding their own personal declarations.

Back in the 1980s, the annual declaration of assets would be met with a chorus of jeers by the Opposition, as ministers rumoured to be millionaires would declare a salary equivalent to that of a dockyard worker.

The situation is no different today, with one prominent minister recently admitting that he 'forgot' to declare a Swiss bank account containing more than half a million euros.

And yet this same declaration of assets is a very serious exercise, which is supposed - if conducted correctly - to narrow the scope for corruption among politicians.

The UN Convention Against Corruption, which Malta ratified in 2008, has this to say: "Each State Party shall endeavour, where appropriate and in accordance with the fundamental principles of its domestic law, to establish measures and systems requiring public officials to make declarations to appropriate authorities regarding, inter alia, their outside activities, employment, investments, assets and substantial gifts or benefits from which a conflict of interest may result with respect to their functions as public officials."

At a glance our system conspicuously falls short of achieving this objective, for the simple reason that there are no consequences in the event of an MP either failing to submit his declaration or lying about his or her assets.

The most recent example seems to follow the same pattern as all the others: in Muscat's Cabinet there were lawyers who claimed to have earned roughly the same amount as a hotel receptionist in a year... and others who claimed to own only modest properties in unassuming locations, when the truth is closer to 'palatial residences on prime sites'.

Again, on paper this looks almost laughable, especially when Cabinet ministers resort to a number of tricks well known to the property trade (for example, describing a luxury villa as a 'country residence' or 'temporarily' changing address to a nearby downmarket locality).

Strangely, most people seem to accept such visibly implausible declarations without batting an eyelid. Yet the same tendency to under-declare would be considered a serious crime in most countries... and not without good reason.

For one thing, a declaration of assets is (or should be) the equivalent of an income tax return. It provides the island's tax authorities with a basis upon which to found their estimates (so much so that Austin Gatt's failure to declare his Swiss account is now allegedly being investigated by the IRD).

Even without this consideration, the declarations themselves are submitted to the House of Representatives. As such, lying on a declaration to the House can be interpreted as misleading Parliament - which is an illegal act equivalent to perjury.

But by far the most important consideration remains the underlying motive for the exercise in the first place: the global fight against corruption.

To this end, transparency and accountability are the most effective weapons. Yet in Malta they do not seem to exist when it comes to public officials.

If, in practice, it proves impossible to quantify a minister's assets, it will prove equally impossible to determine whether that same minister is in receipt of illicit, undeclared funds.

This is why failure to declare a healthy foreign bank account, or to misrepresent an entire portfolio of properties, is automatically suspect in all counties which take corruption seriously.

One current example is the case of France's budget minister, Jerome Cahuzac - who likewise omitted a Swiss bank account in his own declaration, at a time when he was spearheading a government crackdown on tax evasion.

The revelation sparked scandal and outrage in a country already facing austerity measures. And rightly so, as this can only create the inevitable impression that there are two legal systems co-existing at the same time: one very lenient one for MPs and public officials, and one very strict one for ordinary citizens.

Malta already suffers from this perception for other reasons; it is therefore of vital importance that steps be taken to address the culture whereby parliamentarians are left to their own devices to formulate their declarations as they themselves deem fit.

This is not a serious way of doing politics. If Malta wishes to abide by the conditions it accepted when ratifying the UN convention against corruption, the annual declaration of assets must be upgraded to reflect the seriousness of the exercise.

Ideally, MPs should be presented with a detailed questionnaire - not unlike a tax return - in which all owned bank accounts (complete with full statements) are to be included, along with the specific addresses of any properties listed and a full, detailed list of any other commercial interests.

None of this should pose a problem to a government elected precisely on the promise to fight corruption. It is high time the Labour government starts delivering on that promise.