An apology... almost

So there I was, wending my way down Republic Street, the Doors generating some good sounds in my ears, after a day at the coal-face, my mood lightening perceptibly with each passing minute of Wednesday's progressive demise. I had plenty to which to give some thought, of course, life being what it is, but the main item on the mental agenda was the question of with what to fill this space of 900-odd words.

Should I mess around a bit with Joseph Muscat's performance in Parliament last Monday, at the same time poking a bit of fun at the tweets and twitters of the Lil'Elves, tweets and twitters that are going on even as I write? Apparently, Lawrence Gonzi's words in the House are inspiring the little dears to paeans of dripping sarcasm and what I am sure they think is scintillating wit.

Or should I dedicate myself to ridiculing the rabid xenophobes a little, such as the eminently incoherent specimen with a Sicilian sounding name, who seems to have resurrected himself in the States to string together a barely comprehensible rant about how I don't have a clue about illegal immigration? This notion I immediately eschewed, as it would be a bit too much like taking candy from a particularly ineffectual baby.

Perhaps I should moan a bit about the power cut we had on Wednesday, which was clearly the fault of the government, which had planned the whole thing in order to inconvenience everyone out of spite? Boring, really; been done to death by the afore-mentioned Lil'Elves.

But as luck would have it, I dropped in to Agenda and indulged myself in my annual treat, courtesy of Fondazzjoni Patrimonju Malti, Judge Vanni Bonello's collection of historical essays and other gems. This year's work, Passions & Compassions, is the 10th in the series.

I need hardly tell you that, as usual, this is among the best bunches of euros you'll spend, though if you were going to spend them on buying the book for me, it's too late, think of something else.

This week's column is not by way of being a book review, however. I do those sporadically and sometimes you can catch one on Tuesdays. No, funnily enough, this is almost by way of being an apology.

Let me try to explain what moved me to this about Judge Bonello's book.

He writes, in one of the essays, about the internment and eventual deportation of his father, Vincenzo Bonello, during World War II. Being Vanni Bonello, he isn't after sympathy or revenge but he simply wants to set the record straight. Not because his father's record needs straightening, far from it. The man was innocent of everything, except perhaps an obsession with art. What Judge Bonello is after is exposing what he describes as the craven, lick- spittle obsequiousness of the neo-colonials Palace hangers-on who, according to him, infested the country then and who, to an extent, infest it even now, in spirit, at least.

Being moderately Anglophile myself (now there's an understatement, you might say, though I surely couldn't comment) I have hardly ever given much thought to the internati/deportati affair, except to take it as read that, since it was a time of war, the suspension of human rights was pretty much to be expected and, anyway, it's a long passed story.

It is for this I was moved to feel some remorse for taking what was an episode of history that is repugnant to anyone with even a glimmering of respect for human rights and, virtually, ignoring it.

The Brits themselves, admittedly at this late stage and without the thought appearing to have crossed their minds that an apology might be in order, accept that they acted reprehensibly. The courts at the time, hardly over-burdened with pro-Nationalist judges, found the regime (for that is the only word that truly describes it) at fault, completely and utterly.

Judge Bonello is not asking for memorials or compensation but for what it's worth, I will: These innocent Maltese citizens, separated from their families and banished from their country for no reason valid at law - even the rudimentary law that prevails during total war - deserve respect and such respect should be demonstrated tangibly, if almost unconscionably late.

What these people do not deserve, however, and Judge Bonello's pen puts it masterfully, is the smug apologist prattling of ignorant souls who arrogate to themselves a knowledge of (non-existent) facts and a facility for fatuous remarks to lay down the law, even now, so many years later, and give the impression that these people somehow got what they deserved.

Judge Bonello singles out, in the essay, a particular individual, one with whom I have crossed swords myself in the past, when he thought it would be appropriate to link some trials and tribulations I was enjoying health-wise with my representation of the tobacco industry.

This individual, who appears to enjoy exalted academic status, though I'm not entirely clear as to why, is, quite simply, ripped apart and neatly filleted by Vanni Bonello and, for this alone, though for very much more, it's worth reading the piece.

So there you have it, folks: a heinous wrong was perpetrated and it is high time its effects were laid to rest. To an extent, at the time it was committed, the wrong was understandable, if unforgivable, but now, at the end of the first decade of the 21st century, it is no longer excusable, by anyone.

imbocca@gmail.com, www.timesofmalta.com/blogs