Can you imagine Malta without giants like Nerik Mizzi, Herbert Ganado, Sir Arturo Mercieca and Vincenzo Bonello?

These four men and 38 others were interned without a trial and sent to concentration camps in Uganda exactly 80 years ago. On February 13, 1942, the group of leading intellectuals who had already been detained in Malta for two years were locked in the hold of HMS Breconshire and taken to Cairo.

Unlike the rest of the ships that formed part of the same convoy, the cargo tanker safely made it to Cairo. Just one month later, the tanker was sunk by Axis bombers on its way back.

But by then, the 42 internees – some of whom later helped shape Malta’s history – were already in Uganda. Their crime? They were deemed to be anti-colonial.

The following three years were among the hardest not just for the internees, but especially for their relatives, who, at the height of World War II received very little information about their loved ones.

Bonello’s son Giovanni, who was just four years old when he was separated from his father, recalls receiving letters that had whole chunks of text scissored out as part of a censorship attempt.

His mother Rina initially spent five months begging British officials for news about her husband, the man who had founded the fine arts section within the Museums Department, which later became the National Museum of Fine Arts.

“The letters that my parents sent to each other were censored upon departure, and again on arrival. I still have some of them and they literally look like lace,” Giovanni Bonello told Times of Malta.

“This was our only means of communication, and I feel that I missed out on properly bonding with my father during my childhood as he was arrested when I was four, and only returned to Malta from Uganda when I was nine.”

His father’s arrest by security service officers at their Valletta home shortly before the war is Giovanni Bonello’s very first childhood memory.

“The officers asked my father to leave the house and go with them. I remember hiding behind a curtain, watching the unpleasant scene of my father being arrested. My father turned on my mother and told her: ‘Rina, I think I’d better take some pyjamas with me as I don’t think I’ll be sleeping here tonight. And he did not sleep home again for five years.”

The war reached Malta on the four-year-old’s birthday: June 11, 1940.

The sky was lit. I was scared. When I asked her what was going on she told me they were fireworks for my birthday

By then, Giovanni Bonello, his two older sisters and his mother, had moved in with relatives in Rabat, where they remained for the rest of the war with no financial income since the main breadwinner had been detained. 

“I recall the very first waves of airplanes, bombs, tracer bullets, flares and searchlights trailing the skies. The sky was lit. I was scared and cuddled up in my mother’s arms. When I asked her what was going on she told me they were fireworks for my birthday.”

Why were they arrested and exiled?

Giovanni Bonello, who went on to become a European Court of Human Rights judge and renowned author of history books, says the 42 internees were never charged with anything.

Moreover, two courts – both led by judges with ties to the British colonisers – had declared their deportation unconstitutional. 

“Maltese politics has always been very divisive. Before the war, the division was between those who were happy with being a British Empire colony and those who wanted a self-government and independence.

“There were a few people who back then wanted Malta to become part of Italy, but officially, the Nationalist Party was never formally in favour of integration with Italy. The only political party that formally requested integration with Italy was the Labour Party under Dom Mintoff.

“The moment Mussolini started being bellicose in 1940, the colonisers questioned why these Maltese patriots should be given free reign. So, they were rounded up and detained first at Fort San Salvatore in Vittoriosa, then briefly at the Corradino Correctional Facility, and eventually at the St Agatha convent and catacombs in Rabat.”

The men – including Mizzi who later became prime minister of Malta, dean of the cathedral chapter Mgr Albert Pantalleresco, chief justice Mercieca and Ganado who went on to write a set of iconic memoirs – were eventually exiled in 1942.

Giovanni Bonello recalls: “they locked them in the hold and were warned that if the tanker started taking in water and any one of them ran towards the lifeboats, they would be shot on site. 

“Imagine this: a human being told that if they tried to save their life they would be met with a bullet in their back. The crossing was absolutely terrible and frightening. I remember a Cairo newspaper reporting that the convoy went through the harshest war attack.”

Were they ever vindicated?

Upon their return, no one got their job back and Bonello died without receiving one penny from a pension scheme that he financially contributed to.

They are nowadays remembered on a large plaque at the courts of Malta, and several have had streets named after them.

But there has never been any formal apology or financial compensation from the British Empire.

“I’ve personally never been after any financial compensation, but I’ve always sought recognition of the injustices they suffered. And I am satisfied with the fact that they are nowadays considered victims of great injustice. I’m also glad that very few are nostalgic of colonial times.

“I believe that people have come to understand that colonialism is inherently wrong no matter how ‘benign’ the rulers are considered to be. I believe that no nation has a right to lord itself over another nation or be obliged to serve another.

“Some people say the British weren’t that bad… and it’s true. The Germans, Italians and French were definitely worse. However, the fact that they always had the last word in our own country is absolutely unacceptable.

“The British Empire might have been fighting a just war in support of democracy, however, the Maltese episode of internment was anything but democratic.”

‘Injustice a great formative element’

Although Giovanni Bonello’s father did not like to talk much about his time in Uganda, most probably not to open old wounds, the men often met in Malta following their internment.

“Once in Malta they would meet for reunions – informal meetings – for which I was sometimes present.

“And looking back I believe that injustice is a great formative element of the character. The fact that they were unfairly treated by the British Empire fortified their resolution towards independence. In that way, yes, I believe the arrest, detainment and exile had a direct influence on fortifying their spirit of independence.”

This article is being published as part of a series called Malta’s hidden treasures, a collaboration between the National Archives of Malta and Times of Malta. The project, forming part forms part of the European Digital Treasures co-funded by the European Union through the Creative Europe programme, allows readers to gain an insight into Maltese history, society through our archives. You can discover more at the National Archives of Malta headquartered at the historical building of Santo Spirito in Rabat and other archives. If you are unable to visit the archives in person, you can access an online oral and visual archive on www.memorja.com The website is the main repository of recent Maltese national and public memory and hosts hundreds of recollections dating back to the 1920s. More information about the national archives on 2145 9863 or customercare.archives@gov.mt