I do not wear a hat. If I did I would take it off to Alfred Sant, out of respect for him. And to wish him health and peace, and say thank you.

Malta owes him hugely. I mean hugely. He brought civility to Maltese politics. Who of today’s teenagers know what Labour politics were like before 1992, before he was elected leader of the Labour Party?

It is worth recalling that even in opposition, Labour, when it felt like it, was a political party that instilled physical fear in people. Might was right. Labour in opposition tested the Nationalist government sorely in 1987 (or was it 1988? I am writing from memory, and I was never one to remember dates) when an RN aircraft carrier (I cannot remember her name) was prevented from entering Grand Harbour, and had instead to down anchor at St Paul’s Bay, because the Labour Party’s supporters did not want her in Grand Harbour, and had commandeered a super tanker to block the harbour’s entrance.

The newly elected Nationalist government did not have the nerve to remove the tanker. And the carrier – if I remember correctly Prince Andrew was serving on her then – had to go to another port. The humiliation for the Maltese government was complete.

Eddie Fenech Adami as leader of the Nationalist Party in opposition was seen as a hero for standing up to his political adversary, Dom Mintoff, who did not shirk violence as a political weapon, but Dr Fenech Adami was not alone, he had an entire political party behind him. He could count on the masses that made up the party. Just as Labour could count on theirs.

The real heroes in Malta are the individuals who make up the membership of the parties – the naive masses who accept everything the party leaders say, unquestioningly. Only to find out in time how ingenuous they were to believe all they had been told. Simple heroes is what they are.

Some blood was spilled at times but sanity somehow was always regained. Civil strife threatened at times, too, but the parties somehow always drew back from the brink. Though a life was lost one night, and we were told, long after, that the killers were known, and would be tried. But no one was ever brought to justice.

The physical violence of political activities has gone. Thanks to Dr Sant. Politics is almost civil now. The only violence is in the language. And in the morality of the politics. Perhaps one day even that will be eliminated. Though at present the morass into which morality has sunk is deep, and there is no respect for anything today but self and party interest, and a craving for power. A lust which is accepting everything. Even untruths.

From day one of Dr Sant’s leadership, it was zero tolerance to violence. The thugs were in private told unmistakably there was no place for them in the party. They skulked away.

No one expected Dr Sant to win in 1996. At least, no one that I know of. Dr Fenech Adami, then Prime Minister, told us he was going to widen his majority. Did he really believe that, or was he aware of the impending disaster and lied to us? He lost so badly.

And I, for one, expected Labour to celebrate as they had always done before then. I expected their supporters, for one, to come running down St Paul Street in Valletta and smash the window panes of Strickland House. I worked there uninterruptedly for over 34 years, and know well how Labour used to celebrate.

Hordes would run down St Paul Street, shouting insults and throwing stones. Those reporters, like me, who had to report what was going on, worked in fear. In terror sometimes. I remember well how I used to slink past groups of people whenever I had to go out to report parliament and there was tension in the streets.

But wonder of wonders, Labour’s supporters celebrated civilly in 1996. Under their new leader. They were noisy, of course. They packed the streets of the capital in their party flags and banners, and danced and cavorted. But it was all friendly. There was no ill will towards anyone. No settling of scores. If Labour’s supporters had been instructed to keep the peace, they followed their instructions to the letter.

Zero tolerance by Dr Sant to violence when he was in opposition could have been a ploy to win votes, but zero tolerance in the flush of a victory for the party, a victory which so unexpectedly gave him the government, showed a sincerity that was rare in politics. Dr Sant had meant what he said, and passed his first real test without a blemish.

Unfortunately for him, Dr Sant’s government was short-lived. We were not given the chance to know what he could deliver. The reason is well known, I need not go into that. Though even in the decision to call an early election, Dr Sant showed principle. He was not willing to govern with a sword hanging over his head, and went to the country knowing he could lose the power of office that he held. Power had not gone to his head.

Dr Sant leaves an enviable legacy to his successor. The legacy of political peace. Of hot debate without the violence. Of civil debate, even. People can talk, and they can argue, without fearing physical repercussions.

Dr Sant can say he did it his way, and his way was what the country earnestly wanted, and what he gave it.