Your Excellency, Bishops of Bermuda, Mr Chief Justice, Madam President, Mr Speaker, His Worship the Mayor of Hamilton, Cabinet and Parliamentary colleagues, the US Consul General, former Premiers Brown, Cox and Cannonier, the Swan family and friends, ladies and gentlemen; good afternoon.
In a clear indication that both Sir John and the Almighty share a sense of humour, I stand today for the second time in 24 hours to pay tribute to a man whose last political act was one determined to put a minor dent in my government’s parliamentary majority.
Thankfully, the complexity of the man and the tremendous breadth of his service to Bermuda mean that there is more than enough to say. What I will not do is betray the confidence of those phone calls we had, where sometimes I had to hold the phone just away from my ear as I was reminded by him that he didn’t start life in the 10th-floor boardroom of Seon Place.
No difference in political position or ideology can diminish the miracle that saw a boy from Friswell’s Hill become the man who strode confidently to Front Street and held sway in the highest office for an unequalled 13 years. Beyond Front Street, this man of such humble beginnings courted Queens and Presidents, lawmakers and CEOs, earning their respect and their friendship.
He often took to driving GP1 himself, so much so that it is said that on one occasion, the actual diplomatic driver had to explain to someone why he was driving “John Swan’s car”.
The Bermuda into which Sir John was born in 1935 did not align with who he became and who we celebrate today, almost 91 years later. His belief in the dignity of home ownership permeated his policymaking.
In both his private ventures and his political service, he was determined to forge a generation of Bermudians who would enjoy the financial security of owning their own homes. After all, the term “A John Swan House” became a part of the lexicon of the 80s and 90s.
Away from the business acumen, we may never know how many people Sir John helped with everything from school uniforms to school fees. He believed in people and was prepared to extend himself to match the vision and drive of others, in whom I suspect he saw some of himself. It is this unyielding love of people that made Sir John unique.
I cannot imagine how long it would take him to walk a city block, but we all know that he had time to hug everyone and take a moment to ask about parents and grandparents and their well-being.
In death, there is an odd desire to sanitise the life lived by the deceased, particularly if it has been long and colourful. That tendency speaks more to our sensibilities than to the right way to honour such a life. For like any leader, Sir John’s legacy is not one of universal acclaim.
There were moments in his public service that could still be termed controversial today. But a true legacy of leadership means that not everyone will like what you do.
What cements John Swan’s legacy in Bermuda’s history is that he was always at the cusp of change, even before others knew change was in the air. His 13 years as Premier were marked by some of the most significant economic and social changes in Bermuda and have defined a generation and beyond.
Accordingly, pursuant to the provisions of the National Heroes Act 2024, I will invite the Naming and Recognition Committee, established under that Act, to consider an appropriate token of recognition of Sir John’s service to Bermuda, in a lasting, public tribute to all that he accomplished in service to this Island.
During all of this, he was a son, a husband, a father and a grandfather. As much as he loved Bermuda and her people, he was never more animated or prouder than when telling others about his family.
He knew that while chapters of public service may close, the arms of our families remain open and available. Our families are the core of our being, and one look at our sons and daughters reminds us of the value of the sacrifice we and they make in serving that greater good.
Over the last week, Bermudians of all walks of life have taken the opportunity to pen words of remembrance in a Book of Condolence at the Cabinet Office. I am pleased to present that Book to the family today, but one entry is particularly moving, and it says:
“Sir John’s soul belongs to God, but his memory belongs to all of us and to all Bermuda.”
May he rest in eternal peace.