Shining example of what politics is about

The political class suffers from a bad image. It is billed for it because of the behaviour of some of its members, past and present. Such politicians tend to assume that an air of superiority comes along with the role, that, having made it to Parliament, they have reached a new, god-like existence, though godliness is made of far better stuff.

Ours is a representative democracy. To be a member of the House of Representatives is to represent all the people and not just those who voted for you.

This is a fact that some MPs also tend to forget along the way to picking up more than a touch of arrogance. One must not generalise.

Many MPs understand their role well and do their best to execute it properly. A few are naturals in it and compensate for those who give the position a bad name, for the reasons mentioned above, among others.

Freddie Micallef, for many years Mosta’s darling, was such a member of Parliament. He was elected in his middle 20s and spent all of three decades in the House.

He walked in without any airs, did not develop any as the years rolled by and left as a shining example of what an MP should be. As the Mosta archpriest said in his homily at Freddie’s funeral Mass on Saturday, the fact that the large Rotunda was packed was in itself testimony to the esteem in which he was held.

As the way of politics goes, Freddie’s platform was partisan: he militated within and was elected on the platform of the Malta Labour Party. But far more than a Labour MP and Cabinet minister, Freddie was a people’s man. In whatever part he played in the House of Representatives he strove for the interests of his constituency as a whole.

He did so with a gentleness and sincerity that made him a giant of a servant of the people. The clearest quality about him was his sincerity, and everyone who had anything to do with him recognised it immediately. He held his views with a sincere conviction; he respected opposing views just as sincerely.

In the election in which he made it to Parliament, that of 1966, I had lost my first seat. Returning to politics in 1981 I went on to share 15 years with him in the House. During that time I heard him address the House often or speak in the Labour parliamentary group and party executive. He invariably did so with a passion that left no doubt as to the stand to which he was committed. Never, though, did I hear him utter an angry word.

Never, in contrast to some others from both sides of the House, did he attack personally anyone not sharing his view. He lived and let live in the best sense of the term.

Freddie was also a shining example of what politics should be all about in other terms. He possessed unshakable integrity and honesty. No one that I know off ever tried to cast doubts about him, although he was politically active during times that did not light up the world with their care for truth.

Now, after years of cruel illness, he is gone. He will never be forgotten by his wife and their children. Nor by many thousands of people who came to know him, even if simply by hearing of him.

Going to the funeral Mass on Saturday I parked a good distance away from the Rotunda, knowing how difficult it would be to find a slot close to it. As I walked towards the church I was struck by the sight of various couples who came out of their house carrying a bunch of flowers for the man who had loved them and they loved in return.

If only politics had many more personalities who boast the traits that made Freddie Micallef such a unique son of Mosta and Malta.