It was the end of the 1960s and some in the Church were seriously worried that its properties would be confiscated by the State.

This led many within clerical circles to argue that it would be wise for the Church to invest funds abroad. The situation provided fertile ground for Canadian Charles Joseph Lovett to step in and sweet-talk his way up the Church hierarchy and convince Archbishop Michael Gonzi to trust him with €233,000 (Lm100,000).

Mr Lovett ran away with the money, causing countless sleepless nights for Mgr Gonzi, according to a new book documenting the Archbishop’s life, Mikiel Gonzi, Ħamsin Sena fit-Tmun.

The Lovett affair features in one of the chapters dealing with Church investments gone wrong, and the author Charles Buttiġieġ describes this as “one of the worst” experiences Mgr Gonzi had.

The Canadian man had settled in a Tarxien villa – where the Kastell Wine Bar is today – in 1964. His piousness and generosity had caught the eye of some in the Curia, who saw in him the opportunity to carry out foreign investments for the Church.

The trust put in Mr Lovett’s purported ability to manage investments by people in the Curia had eventually reached Mgr Gonzi.

In 1966, the Archbishop agreed to give €233,000 to Mr Lovett. The money had to be invested in a Bahamas company called Caribbean Plastics Company and had to earn interest at five per cent. But five years later, Mr Lovett disappeared from Malta and the Church stopped receiving interest payments on its capital investment.

Later, Barclays Bank stepped in to recover money owed to it by Mr Lovett, seeking a court auction on the Tarxien property.

The book says Mgr Gonzi used to insist that his decision was taken for the good of the Church and on the basis of advice given to him by people knowledgeable in financial matters. Mgr Gonzi said the decision was not against Canon Law and the money did not come out of funds bequeathed to the Church for the holding of Mass in the name of deceased people.

In 1972 Mr Lovett wrote to Mgr Gonzi telling him he was in Canada because of family issues. The book says that the Canadian even indicated the companies where the Maltese Church’s money was invested.

The author describes the Lovett affair as one of Mgr Gonzi’s worst experiences

Mgr Gonzi passed the communication to his legal advisers.

But the incident had prompted a man, who Mgr Gonzi would only refer to as “laico”, to donate €47,000 (Lm20,000) to the Church. The donation came with a condition: if the Church managed to recoup its capital investment, the €47,000 would go to its orphanages.

However, this was not the only investment that went wrong in that period. The Church lost €1.6 million (Lm700,000) in deposits with Bical bank, a Maltese institution, when it went bust and was taken over by the government.

Bical bank was opened in 1962 by brothers Henry and Cecil Pace, who held commercial interests in other economic sectors.

By 1972 the bank had overexposed itself with commercial loans to companies owed by the Pace family, a situation that put depositors at risk. The government moved in to nationalise the bank and by May 1973 Bical was declared bankrupt. An administrator was appointed to take charge of the bank’s assets and start paying out money owed to depositors. Until today, not all the money has yet been paid back. When the bank went bust, many inside the Church started questioning the decision to invest with Bical. The first deposits had been made in 1969.

In January 1973 the presbyterial council had approved a motion expressing concern at the damage that could result to the Church because of the Bical saga.

But in a declaration to the council in May, Mgr Gonzi insisted he wanted the Bical chapter closed, adding there was no point in having an internal investigation. He promised the Church would do everything it could to recover the capital. “I wish this issue to be closed,” he told priests, a message he reiterated a month later when the presbyterial council tried to revive the argument.

By April 1976 the Bical administrator had paid out €500,000, which accounted for 20 per cent of deposits held by various depositors. The last tranche of capital, 20 per cent, has still not yet been paid and the Bical case remains subject to various court cases.

‘You didn’t tell me!’

Charles Buttiġieġ had just been appointed editor of Church newspaper Il-Ħajja in June 1972 when Archbishop Michael Gonzi called him in for a second meeting.

It had only been a couple of days since the two first met and the phone call from the Curia surprised him.

Mr Buttiġieġ says he had barely set foot in Mgr Gonzi’s office when the Archbishop exclaimed: “You didn’t tell me!”

The author says the comment startled him. “I told him I did not understand what he meant by it… and he said he had heard that I was getting married. I felt relieved.”

Mr Buttiġieġ felt the matter was not important enough to raise with the Archbishop in his first meeting with him as editor a couple of days earlier.

But Mgr Gonzi’s next words came in the form of a question: “Who is officiating?”

The author did not have an immediate reply. Many thoughts were racing through his head but then he asked the Archbishop whether he wanted to officiate for him. The answer was immediate and very clear: “Yes, I accept with pleasure.”

Mr Buttiġieġ married Doris as planned on October 21, 1972, but the couple had to change the venue of the celebration. Mgr Gonzi wanted the ceremony to take place at the Archbishop’s Palace in Valletta.

The book and the author

Mikiel Gonz: Ħamsin Sena fit-Tmun (Michael Gonzi: Fifty years at the helm) is written by Charles Buttiġieġ and published by Klabb Kotba Maltin.

The book is selling at €30.

Mr Buttiġieġ was editor of the defunct newspaper Il-Ħajja and later public relations officer at the Archbishop’s Curia.

kurt.sansone@timesofmalta.com