I hadn’t been to a church in ages, so I thought of stopping by the Lisbon Cathedral last Sunday, in a vain attempt at restoring some devotion to these bent shoulders of mine.

Indeed, I was truly inspired by Sandro Chetcuti’s saintly gospel in an interview he gave to Mark Laurence Zammit in last week’s The Sunday Times of Malta.

Unfortunately, as I inched closer to the Sé, I couldn’t help thinking I’d be thrown out by more devout visitors after trying – yet again in vain – to suppress my bouts of raucous laughter, as the contents of Chetcuti’s interview would inevitably take a second lap around my stream of consciousness.

Instead, I took the route to the edge of the Tagus, where a single tower crane in an industrial zone across the river blighted the skyline, and sat alone in contemplation of my sins.

Indeed, it was a pleasure to see Chetcuti again, after his long and still unbroken silence on the Fomm ir-Riħ issue. As the wrangle for access to the beach went on, the usually mouthy construction lobbyist let his lawyer do the talking.

However, his interview struck me for his conviction in stating the exact opposite of what the media, statistics and our own quality of life clearly tell us. Chetcuti believes the MDA are ethical business leaders who shun corruption and who have never, ever broken the rules.

Let’s ignore the fact that the MDA have unfettered access to the corridors of power; let’s ignore workers dying in construction sites; let’s ignore the pollution, traffic congestion, noise; let’s ignore the raft of (often shady) permits issued by the Planning Authority; let’s ignore Chetcuti’s consultancy for Chris Agius, which, of course, we all paid for: let’s just try and hear him out.

Chetcuti moans about politicians knocking at his door for money; but this is a bit like an opioid dealer complaining about his burgeoning, loyal clientele. All the while, he criticises politicians’ friendliness with businessmen, casually forgetting his fraternal, sweaty hug he gave the disgraced Konrad Mizzi during a party for Chris Fearne’s bungled leadership campaign.

But then, of course, citizen Joe and Chetcuti are always bound to have a different weight in front of any politician, so the latter can hold the authorities and the public hostage in what is an unwarranted negotiation about Fomm ir-Riħ.

He will most likely have his way in the rezoning of Swatar, where, together with fellow burghers of virgin steed, Chetcuti aims to develop the last green space of a suburb surrounded by a hospital, a university and thousands of apartments who sleep to the rumble of motorways.

I’ll miss Chetcuti, who will take with him countless sound bites, statements and maybe secrets, while the developers’ lobby will have to carefully look for someone with at least the same charisma to replace him, ideally before Stetsons start to reappear on the expensive boardroom table. I wonder whether his successor will also be the saintly type, perhaps employing an ex-PM as a ‘consultant’.

Chetcuti will understand that my criticism of him – which is often as forgiving as a landmine in a jungle – is not rooted in distaste for the person but falls squarely within my line of work.

I’ll grant him, besides the “record property sales” he likes to brag about (in the midst of a pandemic), another trophy: that of having to face the anger of a bigger environmental bloc, which understands and witnesses the influence of private interests such as the MDA on our quality of life, instead of simply blaming politics. Tango’s a two-way thing.

Chetcuti gets to “move on with his life” at 50, without pressures on his properties and well-being.

Now that the development spree has tightened the noose around green areas, this is a privilege allowed to very few people. In particular, one not afforded to farmers who are now caught in an authentic pincer movement as speculators, road builders and landowners have started doing their utmost to kick them out of their land.

Landowners (including a notable ex-PN politician) have taken to unilaterally evict farmers in spite of rent agreements. They rely on the fact that farmers do not fully know their rights, with recourse to justice being a long and uncertain path for most of them.

Then come road builders, who continue to gobble up land faster than any other mechanised unit in history. Ian Borg, who had given his developer chum the stewardship of the developers’ registry (“against the spirit of the law”, according to the ombudsman), is heading into a loud and flashy electoral campaign that will inevitably trample over farmers’ lands.

His momentum is largely due to the human bulldozers at Infrastructure Malta, who forgot, however, to calculate the anger of residents and farmers at their methods. Now, in fact, he is trying to bury the expropriations saga which involves entities that respond to him and the Lands Authority which answers to Silvio Schembri.

Meanwhile, the authority is chugging away without its auditors and their oversight. While a Borg acolyte with ties to Fortina has been reluctantly shown the door, CEO Robert Vella seems busier hunting down leaks than making an effort to clear the filth in his domain.

Lands is not as often in the mire as the Planning Authority, yet, it presents another goldmine for developers. And while the MDA supremo walks out trying to deny the undeniable, big business – developers included – have helped weaken authorities such as this by pushing, if not paying for, deregulation.

Standing up to this needs more than prayers, even after the change of a pope.