VANNI BONELLO says it is an illusion that history imparts any lessons. The judge reflects on the way he saw Malta change. 

MX: How did your father’s passion for art and your mother’s legal and judicial background shape your interests and career choices?

VB: I grew up surrounded by uncles who lived the law full-time and by a father who personified art, culture and history. This may have conditioned my worldview and, to some extent, my choices. As a toddler I played in my uncle’s study, probably the largest private library of law books in Malta, and in my father’s quarters, which housed floor-to-ceiling books on art and history. They were a 24/7 presence in my formative years.

MX: Did you ever experience uncertainty or consider different career paths before committing to law and human rights?

VB: I was more attracted to history and art, but many cautioned me that was hardly a viable way to earn a living. The only fallback appeared to be that of a reluctant lawyer. I eventually exchanged my hobby for my profession and vice versa. Both eventually became loves of my life and now the three of us co-habit meaningfully.

MX: What sparked your interest in collecting postcards, and how has this hobby influenced your perspective on art and history?

VB: A passion for collecting can satisfy at least two distinct requirements – that of selfish, greedy hoarding, and the opposite one, of having more to share. I collect old Malta postcards and photographs rather compulsively, but solely to share them as widely as possible. My joy is making sure that what’s mine is also everyone else’s.

MX: Given your extensive work on history, what are the most crucial lessons that history can impart to contemporary society?

VB: It’s an illusion that history imparts any lessons. History only teaches us that it teaches us nothing. Has any inflated despot learnt anything from past calamities? Sorry if this sounds cynical but, in my view, never.

MX: How do you perceive the Maltese people’s appreciation of their history and cultural heritage?

VB: With some laudable exceptions, many Maltese appreciate history and heritage exclusively from a business and investment perspective. How many times have I been outraged by the defence of our heritage and our environment: because otherwise tourism will suffer; not because nature and icons of cultural memory are inestimable values in themselves; no, only because otherwise we risk losing money. Must we be compulsive mercenaries even in the pursuit of what is right?

I earned the reputation of “dak ma jibżax” (he’s not afraid of anyone), and human rights litigation eventually became my routine; on entirely false pretences. I was scared witless

MX: Your father, Vincenzo Bonello, was a passionate nationalist and faced significant adversity for his beliefs, including internment and exile by the British. How did his experiences and stories influence your views on nationalism and human rights?

VB: I can’t decipher my own DNA, but I rather doubt the injustices my father suffered for his unremitting aversion to colonialism contributed substantially to my commitment to the promotion of human rights and the rule of law. He certainly instilled in me a sense of the inevitability of Christian virtue, but I never recall him inspiring in me any resentment or any subconscious craving to settle scores.

MX: Did your father’s experiences with the British colonial administration influence your decision to specialise in human rights law?

VB: I don’t believe there was any decision-making involved in becoming a – or perhaps ‘the’ – human rights lawyer. That happened mostly by default. I was a busy civil law practitioner when the human rights abuses of the 1970s started biting. Victims could find very few, if any, lawyers willing to take up their defence in the law courts against the regime’s systematic contempt for human rights. Many of the 170 human rights victims I defended were referred to me by other lawyers who preferred not to challenge the mob rule that terrorised both lawyers and a part of the judiciary. Gradually, I earned the reputation of “dak ma jibżax” (he’s not afraid of anyone), and human rights litigation eventually became my routine; on entirely false pretences. I was scared witless.

My excuse for this masochism was a sense of duty towards what I believed was right, in spite of the hateful intimidation by the regime and the monumental cowardice of some members of the judiciary. I was handicapped by mothballed principles: you do your duty whether you like it or not. It’s good to do it if you’re gratified, and better still, if you’re terrified.

MX: How would you describe your political views, and have they evolved over time?

VB: In so far as one can pigeonhole something so elusive as political orientation, I would identify myself as broadly centre-left, a believer in Christian democracy with a strong social mission. No doubt old-fashioned political views. Activism in politics is not for experiencing the highs of power, but as advancement of the people. Not as a slogan and as a vote-trap, but as a service and a mission.

MX: Have you ever been involved with Nationalist Party, and if so, how did this involvement shape your perspectives?

VB: I always tried to resist falling under the spell of partisan politics. My loyalties were never for a party or a leader, but for the political movement that most closely approximated my values and my principles. In my lifetime, that happened to be, on several occasions, the Nationalist Party. I found I could, with less difficulties, identify with the party’s social democratic principles, with its life-saving resistance to integration with the UK, with its passion for defending our centuries-old traditional culture, with its emphasis on education, with its struggles for self-government and independence, with its belief in Malta’s self-sufficiency, with its anti-totalitarian stances, and with its consistent openness to a European unity of purpose.

Did the party always represent my ultimate ideals? Often it did, but not always. When I felt it did not, I was the first to register my disagreement and my disapproval. My loyalty, I like to believe, was consistently towards my ideals, not towards any particular partisan worship.

With hindsight, I now acknowledge how right Borg Olivier was to take the gamble at a time when the economy was still a total mess

MX: What are your thoughts on the political dynamics of the 1960s, particularly regarding Herbert Ganado’s splinter party and Giorgio Borg Olivier’s stance on Malta’s independence?

VB: Herbert Ganado split from Borg Olivier’s mainstream on ideological grounds, not for personal ambitions. They both craved independence for Malta. Borg Olivier believed Malta could survive, politically and economically, with immediate independence. Ganado was more cautious. He was well aware and scared that all the countries in the British empire that became independent after the 1940s had turned into communist or military dictatorships shortly after. All, without an exception.

With Mintoff around and at the height of his popular hold, that prospect was pretty chilling. Ganado had a more nuanced approach to independence. His programme consisted in three steps: One, obtain from London a solemn undertaking that independence would be granted the moment the Maltese asked for it.

Two, consolidate the economy to make Malta viable and self-sufficient. Three: obtain independence. I believed in Ganado’s programme. With hindsight, I now acknowledge how right Borg Olivier was to take the gamble at a time when the economy was still a total mess. He had full faith in the resilience of the people, and independence promoted an unprecedented economic boom. Chapeau to Borg Olivier.

MX: How do you view Dom Mintoff’s impact on Malta, considering his charisma and significant political influence?

VB: It is undeniable that Dom Mintoff figures among the most charismatic, complex and contradictory personalities in our recent political annals. Though claiming to be the primordial patriot, he had no qualms in promoting the annihilation of our statehood by integration, first with the UK and, when that failed, with Italy.

He aimed at ideals often precious but left a trail of destruction in the wake. He achieved invaluable social progress at the price of national divisiveness, violence and glaring contempt for democracy and the rule of law. Despite his domineering personality, he failed to rein in the violent, the corrupt and the incompetent in his entourage, something the less autocratic Alfred Sant achieved overnight with the flick of a finger. For his greatness I honoured him, for his failings I battled him.

Mintoff achieved invaluable social progress at the price of national divisiveness, violence and glaring contempt for democracy

MX: How did you feel handling human rights cases during the Mintoff administration?

VB: During the Mintoff regime and immediately after, I defended 170 human rights cases in the Maltese and international courts. In Malta, it was painfully uphill all the time. A good number in the Maltese judiciary had absolutely no human rights culture or sensitivity, nor the faintest desire to acquire any. No appeal from their lurid judgments to the Strasbourg Court of Human Rights was then permitted.

Personally, I was repeatedly threatened and reviled in and outside court. I had the distinction of being hounded by a notorious Żejtun thug wielding a Kalashnikov, almost certainly the same weapon that later assassinated Raymond Caruana.

When, in 1987, victims of Maltese violations were finally able to take their complaints to the Strasbourg Court of Human Rights, the then Maltese judiciary instantly acquired the most unenviable record in the whole of Europe – the ECHR rubbished over 90 per cent of their Maltese human rights judgments examined on the merits; a squalid record that even Russia, Azerbaijan and Turkey would have aspired to, but the poor innocents never made it. These were the Maltese courts I had to face daily. Things later thankfully improved.

MX: Have you ever considered a career in politics to effect change, and what factors influenced your decision?

VB: No, I never did. I admire and respect those who take up politics as a calling. They are not useful – they are indispensable. But to do politics you must pay the price for craving popularity. It was never a price I considered paying.

I still pay unbounded homage to Fenech Adami for saving democracy in Malta from a barbaric death

MX: In 1990, you declined Eddie Fenech Adami’s offer to nominate you as Chief Justice. What were your reasons?

VB: Prime Minister Fenech Adami ‘begged’ me (his words) to accept the nomination of Chief Justice and President of the Constitutional Court. I thanked him and told him I felt better suited to work in human rights law. If the office of Chief Justice could be combined with working as a judge in Strasbourg, I would have accepted. He said that would not be possible, and so I declined. Curiously, what was not possible for me became possible shortly later for someone else. Though, personally, this wounded me, I still pay unbounded homage to Fenech Adami for saving democracy in Malta from a barbaric death.

MX: In 1998, you accepted Prime Minister Alfred Sant’s nomination as Maltese judge at the ECHR. During your 12 years in Strasbourg, you became known for drafting 53 separate opinions. How do you view the role of dissent in the judicial process, and do you consider it an art form?

VB: Did I write 53? I never counted them. I hope I am allowed to flatter myself that during the 65 years of existence of the Strasbourg Court and the hundreds of judges that alternated on the bench, mine were the only separate opinions to be selected for publication during the judge’s tenure of office, and this entirely behind my back; a not insignificant distinction for a piddly judge from a piddly state. 

MX: What motivated you to write separate opinions on European Court judgments, and what impact do you believe they had?

VB: Giving reasons why you disagreed with the majority’s conclusion or reasoning is almost mandatory for judges in the Strasbourg Court. You have to justify your position. Separate opinions serve very useful functions. They have led to changes in case law in future similar cases. It is the functional way of showing the majority what you believe to be the errors of their ways. It doesn’t always work, but sometimes it does when the court finds inspiration in previous well-reasoned dissenting or separate opinions.

To do politics you must pay the price for craving popularity. It was never a price I considered paying

MX: Your critical assessment of British behaviour in Basra led to a landmark human rights decision. Let me play the devil’s advocate. To what extent do you think your father’s treatment by the British influenced your perspective on this case?

VB: My Basra separate opinion was my very last one before retirement. After the Anglo-American invasion of Iraq, when the armed hostilities had ended, the UK was tasked with the adminstration and control of the Basra region. Some British armed personnel behaved abominably – torture and murder of Iraqi civilians were not uncommon.

The survivors of some of the victims sued in the UK for breaches of human rights. The government defended itself that its undertaking to respect human rights only applied on UK territory, and not in Iraq. The UK courts agreed with the government’s pleadings. The relatives of the victims then forwarded their complaints to Strasbourg. The Court (and, separately, I) argued that any state that has ratified the Convention of Human Rights is bound to abide by its obligation wherever it exercises control, and not only on its geographical territory.

This was a revolutionary breakthrough that gave an added dimension to human rights protection. I did not pull any punches and let rip. Mine is one of the most quoted separate opinions in the history of the court; and not because I wrote it with any intent to vindicate my father, but because it was seen to be compellingly argued. 

MX: How has Malta’s relationship with human rights evolved over the years, and what are some key milestones in this development?

VB: When I started my legal career, the courts were mired at one extreme end: nothing, however monstrous the abuse, was human rights. Now we have swung to the opposite extreme – everything, even the most trivial, is human rights. Some of our law professionals have still to find a reasonable middle way.

MX: How would you assess the current state of human rights in Malta, and do you believe it has improved over time?

VB: There has been a marked, and positive, shift in human rights consciousness, exemplified by a cursory look at past and recent litigation. Up to the late 1980s, many human rights cases dealt with core complaints – torture, police beatings, extorted confessions, political violence, thuggery, official frame-ups, denial of freedom of expression and of conscience, unfair trials, political discrimination, hijacking of private banks, hospitals, schools, property, denial of labour rights. Now, thankfully, most cases that come before the courts deal with the niceties in the rent laws, money matters and poor governance. 

MX: With few pending human rights cases in Malta outside of property rights issues, what does this indicate about the country’s human rights landscape?

VB: There was a time when human rights were a stretcher case. Today they need some therapy and plenty of tender loving care.

MX: Reflecting on your career and life, are there any decisions or actions you regret?

VB: Yes. Sometimes I regret I never regretted giving too much. Periodically I lament having been an incurable idealist and a relapser. And not listening to my mother’s wisdom, like, don’t be generous if you can’t stand ingratitude, or, never argue with the stupid, the vulgar and the ignorant – they always win. Or believing, against all evidence, in the goodness of human nature.

MX: How would you like to be remembered, and what do you hope your legacy will be?

VB: I have no cravings for the time I am no longer around. My epitaph is written. It says: Vanni, Vannitas vannitatum. Vanni, Vanity of vanities.