An inconvenient truth

For all Labour's previous complaints about political appointments by PN governments for over two decades, the first rumblings of Joseph Muscat's "earthquake of change" have consisted in a basic continuation of the status quo. The only difference is that now it is the Nationalist opposition which cries foul at the Labour government's often bizarre political appointments: the latest example involving the wife of a Cabinet minister appointed as special envoy to the Far East, while her husband - Energy Minister Konrad Mizzi - claims to have been unaware of the arrangement.

Without entering into the merits of this or any other specific instance, one can safely talk about a general lack of propriety in all decisions such as these. In Labour's case, this impropriety is deeply compounded by the fact that government is bound by an electoral promise to issue calls for applications for ALL such appointments - a promise it conveniently forgot within a few weeks of assuming power.

Faced with this volte-face, one is forcibly reminded of a minor controversy that erupted in 2007, shortly before the last election won by the PN. Former PL Secretary Jason Micallef had been overheard telling party supporters that a new Labour government would be "a government for Labourites" (at the same time as party leader Alfred Sant was accusing the Gonzi administration of being a government for "bazuzli" and friends of friends).

Apart from the inherent hypocrisy which affects both sides of the political spectrum in such matters, the fact is that our entire national culture of political cronyism of the kind implicit in Micallef's 2007 statement (and separately also in the recent spate of questionable government appointments) has become almost inevitable, for two entirely practical reasons.

The first concerns manageability: every single administration, Labour or Nationalist, has always ushered in its closest supporters and acolytes to sensitive positions because those are the people they can trust in a role which can be used to harm the interests of the government of the day. Ministers invariably choose those who have served them or the party well, on the understandable assumption that people who have displayed unbending loyalty will also be loyal to the government.

But it would be cynical to take this state of affairs as a fait accompli for any new government, especially one elected specifically on a promise to change this same status quo.

Nor is it any justification to point fingers in the direction of former PN governments for having done the same thing in their own day. It is a trite cliché, but true all the same: two wrongs do not make a right.

The second reason for this unfortunate state of affairs is less easy to justify. Faced with the potentially embarrassing revelation of jobs now being dished out to family members as well to the usual apparatchiks, there is also the possibility that Malta's bottomless pit of commissions, authorities, boards and quangos may serve as a means of financially compensating for the often paltry salaries and honoraria paid to the same ministers who ultimately decide upon such appointments.

Admittedly this is only a perception, but perceptions are crucial in politics; and surely the present government must be aware that such revelations do not look good, given how earnestly Labour campaigned against nepotism before the election.

Nor is this the only issue that Labour kicked up a fuss about while in opposition. As was initially recognised by the Gonzi administration in 2008, the honoraria paid to Cabinet ministers are often not commensurable with the contribution these same people are expected to make to the state. Add to this the proviso that ministers are not supposed to occupy managerial positions in companies or retain private professional practices, and suddenly it is by no means inconceivable that the same plethora of public appointments can be seen as a possible 'supplement' to address the undeniable fact that ministers are underpaid.

This is an issue which could very easily be addressed by a simple change of legislation. Yet the last time a government tried to do this - the Gonzi administration in 2008 - it mishandled the situation so severely that it actually rendered any future change virtually unattainable.

Labour played its own part in this unfortunate turn of events, making excessive political capital out of an embarrassing situation for government without realising that it would one day face the same awkward situation, having a priori committed itself not to change the status quo.

Meanwhile the practical reality of the situation is that the chairman of the Freeport (to name but one example of a lucrative political appointment) earns a salary almost double that of the prime minister who appointed him. The nonsensicality of the arrangement is visible to all who care to look; yet the politics of this situation is such that it cannot be easily remedied.

It is not a wholesome situation. Quite frankly it would be preferable for government to renege on its promise not to increase ministers' salaries than to try and supplement its own paltry income through highly suspect appointments.