His chequered life, his love for acting but, above all, his brilliant legal mind, place Maurice Caruana Curran in a prominent place in Malta’s legal Parthenon. His sense of public duty, his creative legal mind and his love for our country’s heritage were the hallmarks of his long life.
I shall never forget the day when I accompanied his son, Paul, to his first sitting following his arbitrary demotion by the government of that time, from the Constitutional Court to a lower court in October 1976. He entered the hall at the law courts and was met by applause by all legal practitioners. He looked surprised, bowed to the gathering present and called the first case in his new role. A silent but significant gesture.
Wherever he sat on the Bench, he tried to change old attitudes and introduce new ones. He swept to oblivion, in Lowell vs Caruana (1972), the pernicious iure imperii/iure gestionis doctrine, which gave immunity to the government in actions against it.
Towards the end of his career, in 1983, he deftly bypassed the Act VIII of 1981, which had restricted court scrutiny of government action by affirming, in Ellul Sullivan vs Vassallo noe, that it was up to the court to interpret statutes.
He ruled the government was bound to give reasons for its actions when they severely affect the rights of the individual.
In criminal law, he adopted the corrupta non corrumpitur principle in defilement of minors, ruling that, in certain exceptional cases, a degenerate minor could be considered not affected by libidinous acts.
Wherever he sat on the Bench, he tried to change old attitudes and introduce new ones
He presided over the politically-sensitive trial by jury of former Nationalist minister Alexander Cachia Zammit, who was acquitted of all charges of unlawful possession of government files in March 1972. Soon after, he was threatened with impeachment and subjected to spontaneous demonstrations by some riff-raff before his residence in Melita Street (today the French Embassy premises in Valletta) for upholding the freedom of the individual in his judgments.
In civil law, while still a junior judge, he delivered one of the landmark judgments on the subject of damages in tort, namely the celebrated case of Butler vs Heard, devising a legal formula still in use today for the proper liquidation of damages for material harm and loss of future earnings.
His sittings were always lively and interesting. A born actor and likable extrovert, whenever he saw that law students were present to follow proceedings in court, he used to indulge, for our benefit, in an elaborate summary of the facts of the case, much to the chagrin of lawyers waiting for their cases to be heard.
We budding law students used to enjoy his oratory, perorations, humour and his abundant legal knowledge, which he shared with us.
He was a stickler for form and protocol. I remember him saying he had consulted well-known Maltese writer Ninu Cremona who told him that proper names like Maria could be written in their original version. So he once ordered the court usher, the ever-faithful Charlie, to change all the Marijas in the list of cases, removing the ‘j’ from Marija one by one.
In his retirement, he was entrusted by the government to draft a new set of prison regulations. I had the privilege, as home affairs minister, to launch these new modern rules for prisoners’ rights and duties in 1996.
In spite of his age, he was open to new ideas and was meticulous in his studies and always wanted to sift and examine foreign experiences and texts on the matter.
Above all, in spite of personal tragedies and disappointments, he always retained a sense of humour.
There is a lovely anecdote in this regard. A witness told the judge that his name was Lorry. Caruana Curran lectured the witness on the beauty of the name Lawrence, one of the early Christian martyrs, and that he should make use of it rather than calling himself Lorry, which was how large transport vehicles were described. The crisp reply of the startled witness was: “And, My Lord, isn’t Maurice the name of a vehicle too?” All present in court burst out laughing and so did Caruana Curran who enjoyed a joke, even when it was at his own expense.
Guido de Marco, in his autobiography, describes Caruana Curran as one of the most able prosecutors of all time in criminal trials, particularly his skills in cross-examination.
I have always held the view that what makes a good and skilful lawyer in criminal trials is his capacity to cross-examine witnesses and bring out the untruths sometimes said by those testifying.
His other love was Din l-Art Ħelwa and Malta’s heritage.
At a time when development was deemed more important than preserving one’s heritage, a malady too common even today, he spearheaded a new organisation still active today with such an appropriate name – the first words of the national anthem.
Caruana Curran was unique. He reminded me so much of Lord Denning, the British judge who always championed the rights of the individual against government arrogance.
Sir Max Williams once said: “My Lords, if I were to summarise the greatness of Lord Denning in one word it would be vigilance – vigilance in upholding his standards and beliefs.”
These words apply to Caruana Curran, the ever-vigilant guardian of the rights of the individual.
Tonio Borg is a former European commissioner and Cabinet minister