A tribute to a political giant

As this year’s midterm election swings into center stage, I had the opportunity to recall the contribution of a political giant in years past when the helpless GOP was the perpetual recipient of the trophy of defeat in basically every election.

The late Jess P. Mafnas was at the driver’s seat often alone all through the years–with a few loyal friends–gradually building a foundation that eventually gave the GOP its first taste of victory. He never gave up building an organization that had “defeat” as its nickname.

Mafnas had a vision, a vision very few were able to see then. He accepted a fundamental truth that in carving a road through a huge mountain, he must begin with a small clearing and the slow and long process of removing dirt piles, daily. He had the uncompromising commitment to plow through the ravines of local politics. Not only did he drill a road through the mountain, but he came back later to put the puzzles together to secure a first major victory for the GOP in 1977–republican control of the first constitutionally established bicameral legislature that took office in 1978.

In his decision to run on an independent ticket, he’d call me quietly to a corner and quiz if his plan would make it to victory. I responded in the affirmative. He won the election although I wasn’t on his side as one of his soldiers. I was troubled by the depth of a master political strategist who has opted to leave a boat he’s brought to calm waters with a few dedicated crew members. I am still perturbed by such a decision to which the prospects of getting answers is history given that he died without our discussing the issue forthwith.

I admire him for his forthright views although admittedly he’s very demeanor is often misunderstood and all because he speaks his mind where most would resort to sanctimonious diplomacy or venomous niceties. He meant well and he’d put anybody through the ropes not that he wants to punish that person, but he also wanted to see you earn your stripes. To the day he left us, he was relevant and articulate given his thirst for analysis and research. Most importantly, he was willing to listen to the educated views of his young lieutenants.

I miss the dynamic and uncompromising enthusiasm of a rare master political strategist and I’m sure too that even his once bitter rivals have come to respect the gentleman for what he was and not who he was as a major contributor in the political development of these isles. In my quiet moments, I could hear his voice as he delivers his vision of what lies ahead. Frankly, most of what he said then are true. How sad that in our daily work we really never took the time to remember a masterful political architect who turned the tide of perpetual defeat into a well earned trophy of victory.

Mafnas was like a father to this columnist and I can’t dismiss him as just another politician. I remember a day last week as I waited at the parking lot at Mt. Carmel School to pick-up my son after class. I took a quick glance at the spread of white crosses at the Chalan Kanoa Cemetery. In the front right side corner was my Uncle Jess’s grave with his picture cemented right in the middle. I drove closer to take another glimpse at his face. He looked tired, reluctant, hardly smiling, as I prayed quietly for his repose. Perhaps I really miss his razor-sharp mind as he buckles down to organizing a plan from A-Z or maybe it is his forthright attitude that I find most appealing. If there’s anything I learned from him, it’s his innate courage to say his piece.

I had watery eyes as I took a quick trip into memory lane of our days together. I said my prayers and adios ever grateful to have made his friendship as a master political tactician and warrior. Just as I finished my prayers, I saw a tiny hand at a distance waving and yelling “Over here, dad”. I had to go, it was my son.