A Desperate Bid to Prevent Accountability?

Former Nationalist MP Jason Azzopardi became a central figure in the discourse surrounding the reform of magisterial inquiries. Paradoxically, he is also the subject of a magisterial inquiry that could shed light on actions during his tenure as Parliamentary Secretary responsible for the Lands Department.
This inquiry, which was opened more than a decade ago, addresses allegations of fraud, misappropriation, and corruption, particularly in relation to decisions concerning the allocation of public land in Għajn Dwieli, a region that fell within Azzopardi’s constituency.
The crux of the investigation focuses on whether Azzopardi’s actions in granting land to individuals who owned property in the area were influenced by improper considerations. These are serious allegations, and the findings of the inquiry could have significant repercussions for the former MP. Rather than embracing transparency and accountability, Azzopardi has engaged in a vigorous campaign aimed at discrediting the proposed reforms to magisterial inquiries, reforms that may ultimately bring the truth of his own actions to the surface.
Azzopardi’s opposition to these reforms is vehement, but despite his frequent public invocations of the rule of law, he seems less keen on its application when it questions his own conduct. The proposed changes to the inquiry process include the introduction of time limits for the conclusion of inquiries, ensuring that investigations do not drag on indefinitely. The inquiry into Azzopardi has been open for twelve years, perhaps an indication of the complexity of the case, but also a reflection of the inefficiencies within the inquiry process itself. Azzopardi’s opposition to the proposed reform, which seeks to impose a clear timeline on these inquiries, suggests that he wishes for the inquiry to fade into obscurity, left to gather dust rather than reach a conclusion. The introduction of time limits, which would ensure that no inquiry remains unresolved indefinitely, threatens to disrupt this.
In this context, Azzopardi’s fervent opposition to the reform can be seen as a bid to shield himself from the legal consequences of his alleged actions. To this end, he has marshalled support within his party, with figures such as Karol Aquilina and Bernard Grech backing his position. Together, they have created a narrative that accuses the government of seeking to stifle investigations into high-profile cases, including those that have rocked the nation. This rhetoric is false.
The core aim of the reform is not to hinder investigations, but to ensure that they are conducted efficiently and that justice is not delayed for years on end. Under the proposed changes, once an inquiry is concluded, the results will be sent to the Attorney General, who will then decide whether to initiate legal proceedings. If the Attorney General deems further investigation necessary, the inquiry will be sent back to the Magistrate, restarting the two-year investigative period. This is not an attempt to quash justice, but to create a more transparent and effective system, where victims and the public are not left in perpetual limbo.
Azzopardi’s arguments, which invoke the names of victims such as Karin Grech and Raymond Caruana to rally public sympathy, are not only disingenuous but also exploitative. The proposed reforms are not a political weapon but a necessary step towards ensuring that inquiries are conducted within a reasonable time frame. For far too long, the inquiry process in Malta has been characterised by delays and inefficiencies, with the potential for politically sensitive cases to fall into a state of inertia. The introduction of time limits is a mechanism that ensures that no case is left unresolved indefinitely. For Jason Azzopardi, the truth may well be a far more uncomfortable prospect than any reform.