In his interview with The Sunday Times of Malta this week, Archbishop Charles Scicluna was twice asked whether he thought the Muscat government fears him. He tried to wiggle out of answering but then replied: “I don’t think so, no.” Then he changed the subject while pretending to be sticking to it.

Let’s remove any lingering doubt. Muscat definitely does not fear the Archbishop. Otherwise, his media enforcer, Glenn Bedingfield, wouldn’t be using his blog to try and stir up another Church-Labour conflict (or, at least, the appearance of one).

Of course, that’s not how Bedingfield puts it.

He says the aggression is coming from Mgr Scicluna, who is interfering in politics, in favour of the Nationalist Party and in cahoots with Daphne Caruana Galizia.

That last bit he deduces from a passing remark by Caruana Galizia on her blog – that she knows the Archbishop reads her regularly – while using a post to draw his attention to an issue. This mite of a sliver of a fragment of information is inflated by Bedingfield into hard shocking evidence of an anti-Labour conspiracy.

Sane people of course know that, if reading Caruana Galizia’s blog regularly (religiously?) was enough to make you an anti-Labour co-conspirator, her collaborators would include Bedingfield and most Labour politicians. And if Caruana Galizia were on such intimate plotting terms with the Archbishop, she would hardly need to put something up on a blog post to draw his attention to it.

Bedingfield knows this too. Which is why the strain he is ready to put on our credulity is an indicator of how much he is straining to create the appearance of a Church-Labour conflict.

Why do it? For the same reason that, since 2008, Labour has tried (successfully) to define its political conflict with the PN as one between liberals and conservatives. Eight years ago, Labour was still a toxic brand (not any more). Redefining the political contest, as the PN foolishly permitted, enabled Labour to broaden its appeal far beyond its ken.

Now, in 2016, Labour needs to redefine the Archbishop’s public criticisms of Muscat’s neoliberal policies on the environment.

If the issue remains defined as one to do with rich men’s greed and the ruin of living standards and the environment, then the Archbishop remains credible.

If, however, Labour can redefine the issue as yet another example of how secular modernity and its liberal champion (Labour, apparently) is under siege yet again by a Church that doesn’t know its proper place in a democracy, then Labour will manage to weaken the opposition to its deregulated capitalism.

The argument will change to being one about freedom of thought: a non-issue. The real arguments – about democratic control over public goods and standards of dignified living – will have been deflected. Modernity will be discussed in terms of who controls our inner life, not in terms of who controls what goes on in our public spaces.

Obviously the Archbishop has recognised the ruse. But he needs to recognise a great deal more if he is to have his message understood the way he’d like it to be. The traction and respect he’s won on the environmental issue – particularly the hell planned for Sliema – have been obtained under special circumstances, in which his authority is secondary.

It’s difficult to contemplate what’s planned without thinking we’re looking straight in the face of savage capitalism

It’s difficult to contemplate what’s planned without thinking we’re looking straight in the face of savage capitalism, whose spirit was defined by Karl Kraus: what is not nailed down is mine; what I can prise free of the nails is also mine.  The rapacity of the developers makes this a case of greed – perhaps the only one of the seven deadly sins that still is able to elicit universal disapproval.

(The rest are often worn as badges of pride, with Facebook posts and photos putting envy, anger, pride, lust, gluttony and sloth on full display.)

Not only is this a viciousness on which there is widespread moral agreement. The victims of the predators include the affluent and disadvantaged alike. Environmental disaster is classless. Kleptocrats spare no one.

All this makes it patently clear that the Archbishop really is, as he says, speaking up on behalf of the common good. But it also means that one cannot extrapolate from this case to other cases where he will want to speak up.

In cases which are more contentious, he will face a series of obstacles from friends as well as adversaries.

First, there is the widespread misunderstanding of what kind of organisation the Church is. It’s neither a mini-state (within a state) nor an army nor a club. But many people think it’s one of those things, including some of its supporters.

It means that every time the Archbishop speaks, many will think he is speaking with the power of a head of state or a general: someone who exercises power over people. And so his words will be misconstrued or twisted into an attempt at imposition.

Second, many people have a childish view of religion – perhaps because their religious education ended before they became adults – or else think of religion as infantile because what they remember is religion as taught to children.

In both cases, a bishop speaking as an adult to adults might sound disconcerting if not irreligious – a bishop straying beyond his remit.

Third, fatalism in our society is misrecognised. We think it exhibits itself typically in religious faith. Perhaps in some pockets of society that is true. But real, widespread fatalism, across classes, is to be found in our submission not to God but to Mammon – in the idea that there is little we can do to counter the command of the wealthy elite and its decisive influence on our politics and the quality of life.

These obstacles are deeply ingrained. They touch upon fundamental issues to do with the life of the Church.

They cannot be tackled by a tweeting Archbishop alone.

The second-worst thing he can do is to settle for being a prophet. The worst, of course, would be to back off into safety.

ranierfsadni@europe.com