Now that the 50th anniversary of independence is fast approaching I often, in my old age, think of those exciting days.
Two things in particular stand out in my retentive memory. First, how well I recall the protracted negotiations, for all of which I was personally involved at the side of Prime Minister George Borg Olivier; followed by my being given the task and honour of drafting the constitution of independent Malta.
After so many colonial constitutions, our country finally had the distinction of having its independence constitution drafted by one of its own nationals, making it all the more ours.
When the principle of independence for Malta was formally accepted by Secretary of State Duncan Sandys, he naturally raised the matter of drafting a new constitution.
Even as Dr Borg Olivier was staring at him, Mr Sandys said: “you have Cremona”.
I know this from Dr Borg Olivier himself. In fact, Mr Sandys knew very well, (probably from my friend, the eminent constitutionalist professor Stanley de Smith) that besides being Malta’s Attorney General, I was also professor of constitutional law at the University of Malta, having previously specialised in public law in Britain.
A delighted Dr Borg Olivier asked me “how long will it take you?” I replied: “less than you imagine.”
In fact, despite working on the draft from home after office hours, I was still able to transmit it to the Prime Minister as early as April 16, 1963; well in time for the all-party independence conference that opened at Marlborough House in London on July 16, 1963.
In his opening address, Mr Sandys said: “When we come to discuss the constitution, we shall have before us the draft prepared by your Attorney General. If I may say so, he has done a very admirable job and provided us with a most excellent basis for discussion.”
Large parts of the proposed Constitution – a quintessentially democratic one, incorporating, in written form, the spirit of the unwritten British Constitution – raised no appreciable difficulties.
But there were also some rather sticky provisions, notably the so-called religious clauses, on which the government was quite firm, even though strictly speaking they were not really constitutional, and which bedevilled the whole issue.
After some other vicissitudes and eventual approval by a popular referendum, the constitution was adopted. Soon after, Malta became independent.
The other thing I shall never forget is the tremendous cheer that broke out from the mouths of thousands of men, women and children in the packed Independence Arena when the Maltese flag slowly reached the top of the floodlit pole.
At that particular moment I saw people embracing with tears in their eyes. It not only marked the end of an era and the bright beginning of a new one, it was also an expression of faith in the future of a proud new nation, with an incredibly long history and one of the oldest flags in Europe.
On my way back home I still had in my pocket the letter which my opposite number at the Colonial Office, the distinguished legal counsellor and old friend Anthony Rushford, had posted in time to reach me on the great day.
It is reproduced in his own handwriting as a cherished memento of independence at the very end of the second edition of my constitutional textbook.
It reads: “My dear John, on the first day of Malta’s independence I naturally think of the island and of old friends there, yourself in particular. You have played a big part in the achievement of independence and I have always admired your excellent grasp of legal points and skill in negotiation. I hope we may keep in touch...”
I do not know whether I deserved such nice words. What I know for certain is that it was a privilege for me to have served my country at such a momentous juncture in its history to the best of my ability.