The loss of a bad-weather seaman

I write in remembrance of Guido de Marco.

I can’t possibly write about what he was. I can only write of who he is.

Clearly, he was the criminal law lawyer of his age, an orator unmatched by his contemporaries, a strategist, a thinker, a diplomat, a writer, a lover of literature and art, a teacher of law and a mentor to many.

At different times, he held high office as Deputy Prime Minister, Cabinet minister, leader of the House of Representatives, President of the UN General Assembly and President of Malta. Unlike in Prof. Guido’s case, these offices are typically not held by individuals who are giants in their own lifetime.

Prof. de Marco was self made. He was absolutely his own man. Truly, however, Prof. de Marco is a gentleman. His handshake more solid than any written contract.

In an age of bond issues and junk bonds, the only bond that forms part of his culture and his very persona is that of his word.

He is the most recently-departed member of that exclusive club of gentlemen, that dying breed of individuals, particularly in commerce and in the practice of law, where basic core principles in the conduct of human affairs are non-negotiable. They are at once both without value and priceless.

I last saw Prof. de Marco fleetingly at the funeral of his fellow giant, George Bonello du Puis. He looked reasonably well but my most recent recollection is having dined with him, Mrs de Marco, her daughter Giannella and George at the aptly-named Pintonino at Valletta Waterfront the evening following the launch of his autobiography in the Maltese language. He was his usual affable self, feintedly arguing with Mrs de Marco on how much pasta he was allowed to consume.

I was introduced to Prof de Marco at age 17 as a first-year law student by my late father. I went on to undertake my prattika with Prof. de Marco for three full seasons contemporaneously while attending my late father’s law offices. Prof. de Marco treated me as his second son and as part of his family. I am indebted and privileged.

His legacy is the subject for others to write of but for me it is clear that:

To Giannella has fallen the unenviable but equally challenging task to discharge the de Marco prowess in the practice of criminal law, a duty that is fulfilled admirably and with the respect of her peers.

To Fiorella falls the softer, kinder, gentler but unyielding traits of Guido de Marco’s personality.

To Mario falls the burdensome political mantle, a burden he carries with dignity, aplomb, quiet diplomacy and sophisticated shrewdness that belies his political experience. It is not surprising that the Prime Minister has elected to entrust him with a portfolio that in other governments was discharged by three separate ministries.

Mrs de Marco is and shall remain the unsinkable pontoon for her family.

I was honoured to include Prof. de Marco among my true friends. I shall miss him and remember him as I do my departed loved ones.

Malta has not simply lost a statesman and a son. Regrettably, the island of St Paul has lost a bad-weather seaman. And these are few in number.

May God rest his soul.