How to elect a pope
The next conclave
A leading church historian fears that a future conclave run according to the current rules is open to catastrophe. He urges Pope Francis to make reforms to the voting procedure
Here is a scenario from an imaginary future conclave: white smoke
from the chimney above the Sistine Chapel; the cardinal protodeacon
appears on the balcony of St Peter’s to declare Habemus papam; the
purple mozzettas crowd around the side windows; the newly elected pope
steps out. And as he smiles and humbly introduces himself to the crowds
in the square, a lone social media post makes a stunning allegation.
Within seconds, the story is across the internet: the elected cardinal,
when he was bishop, had received a hypothetically credible complaint of
an abuse committed by a priest and had waited, or waited too long,
before acting. The accused priest had gone on to commit further crimes.
In the square and in the press boxes, eyes drop from the balcony to
their smartphones. Enthusiasm gives way to embarrassed silence. The pope
steps back inside, and resigns. The see is again vacant.
The
first episode of a third series of Paolo Sorrentino’s The New Pope? The
prelude to a new western schism, with some cardinals giving their
obedience to the accused, whose election they hold to be valid, and some
to his successor? The result of a conspiracy by hostile forces to bring
the Church to its knees? No. But it could happen. And it’s a scenario
that in my view demands an urgent revision of the rules governing the
election of popes.
Actually, it’s been customary for centuries to reform the norms that
govern the election of the bishop of Rome. From the second half of the
nineteenth century, every pope has done so, sometimes ordering detailed
and incisive changes. This is how the voting rights of excommunicated
cardinals came to be preserved, how the clause annulling simoniac
elections was abrogated, how the veto power of Catholic heads of state
was cancelled, and how the rule excluding cardinals aged 80 and over
from the conclave was established.
The constitution setting out
the rules for a conclave and for the governance of the Church in the
period in between the death of a pope and the election of his successor
largely in effect today, Universi Dominici Gregis, was signed by John
Paul II in 1996, though it had been written by Cardinal Francesco M.
Pompedda, a Sardinian. It stipulated that conclaves would take place in
Rome, abolishing the rule that cardinals would convene in the place
where the pope had died. It established the location of the preparatory
meetings (even if the new Synod Hall was to be preferred in 2005 and
2013) and of the election (the Sistine Chapel). It eliminated certain
types of voting (by acclamation and per compromissum) and it stipulated
that if after three weeks no candidate had succeeded in winning the
support of two thirds of those participating in the conclave, a simple
majority would suffice.
In June 2007, Benedict XVI made a small
but surgically precise adjustment to the rules. Perhaps because he had
seen Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Buenos Aires receive a third plus
one of the votes in one ballot in the 2005 conclave, to free his
successors from the insinuation that they had been elected only because
their opponents realised they didn’t have enough votes to prevent it, he
reinstated the requirement that a two-thirds majority would be required
for the election of a pope, regardless of the number of ballots needed.
Up to now, Francis has left the rules governing how popes are elected
untouched. Since his election, however, two things have happened which
will alter the dynamics of future conclaves.
One is that
legislation has been enacted to ensure that bishops accused of covering
up the crimes of priest abusers can be properly investigated. This has
opened the door to the possibility of anonymous accusations being made
and has created a rushed system of undifferentiated sanctions. The other
is that the restoration of “Vatican justice” in the tribunal of the
tiny papal state – which has thrilled the modern-day tricoteuses who
rejoice in every blow of the “media guillotine” that lops off the head
of clerics, usually for alleged financial crimes – has rendered
cardinals vulnerable to invented financial improprieties. The
twenty-first century could see the power of the veto return, wielded
not, as 100 years ago, by Catholic monarchs, but by powerful pressure
groups or the emperors of social media.
Interference with the
choice of a bishop of Rome could unfold in several ways. It could happen
during the general congregations which follow the death or resignation
of a pope, when the college of cardinals spends several days in an
auditorium listening to short, seven-minute speeches. It would not be
difficult for well funded and well organised lobbyists and campaigners
to use this time to manipulate opinion and destroy a candidate
antipathetic to their interests.
Francis has appointed cardinals
who barely know each other. There has not been a consistory where they
have met together to discuss serious issues in depth. At the next
conclave, many of them might be meeting as a college for the first time
in the most intense and solemn moment: the lack of time for considered
discussion, the blinding lights of media attention and intense public
pressure could amplify the differences between them and turn candidates
into cartoon heroes and villains.
The worst-case scenario is the
sudden revelation of a serious misdemeanour rendering a newly elected
pope unsuitable for office. We saw a hint of this in 2013, when after
Francis’ election there was a flurry of fabricated rumours about his
involvement with the military junta during the Dirty War in Argentina
in the late 1970s, during which thousands “disappeared”, including
several priests. The issues were complex and eventually the main charges
were found to be false. At the time, profiling technologies were in
their relative infancy. Today, a group dissatisfied with the cardinals’
choice could find traction with a “story” involving, say, foreign money
and mysterious wire transfers.
No revised rules for a papal election could eliminate all these
risks. But that is no excuse to simply leave the outcome to providence. A
conclave has one clear purpose: a representative body of the Roman
clergy (all cardinals – apart from the patriarchs of the Eastern
Catholic Churches – take on a titular church in Rome) is locked cum
clave (“with a key”) together until Rome has an uncontested and
uncontestable bishop. After the election, both the canonical majority
and the minority must be convinced enough by the process not to
second-guess the decision. No myth, no mystery: the conclave has endured
for 10 centuries because the system of voting, the level of secrecy,
the waiting time for those electors who have to travel, the
participants’ diets and the duty of the cardinals (the distant, the
excommunicated and the elderly) to participate have all evolved in order
to meet this unchanged purpose.
The present moment calls for a
conclave that is slower, more productive and more silent than the two we
have seen this century. There are several areas where Pope Francis,
together with a skilful canonist, could relieve some of the pressures
currently faced by electors and design a conclave with more
opportunities for genuine dialogue. First, the cardinals’ residence: as
they arrive in Rome following the death or resignation of a pope, they
could all go directly to Santa Marta. There could be a first phase, when
all the cardinals, including those over 80, would be present; this
would include the period of mourning and the obsequies for the dead pope
or for the departure of a pope who has decided to step down.
Second,
the enclosure: currently, all the cardinals, including those too old to
vote, are immersed in the general congregations, with several days of
speeches, inevitable leaks and distracting incidents. Instead, the
general congregations could be reserved to the cardinal electors alone:
after the oaths, they could meet in a hall inside the Apostolic Palace
for thorough exchanges which could, for example, allow each cardinal
elector up to 20 minutes to express himself and respond to questions,
allowing the cardinal electors to better understand who is saying what,
who is keeping silent and who is asking questions.
Then, the
balloting itself: currently, a conclave begins with a vote on the first
evening and then four ballots every day. The two conclaves this century
each lasted less than 28 hours. In order to give the cardinals some
respite, there could instead be a single vote per day for three days,
then two per day for three days, going up to four votes for the three
days after, continuing with the breaks already planned. Slowing things
down would allow more time for majorities and minorities to engage with
each other, and give candidates time to withdraw their names – and not
only out of humility, which once attracted admiration as well as votes.
Finally,
it might be stipulated that once a cardinal has reached the two-thirds
majority required for election, he would be given time to meditate
before he is formally asked to accept. Having examined his conscience
and memory with the help of the cardinal dean and the cardinal
protodeacon or with the cardinal who is first in order and seniority,
he could give the majority and the minority among the cardinals an
acceptance that would encourage and seal their loyalty and obedience.
There
are two other issues. It would be unthinkable to make the 100 or so
cardinals who are over 80 electors. But the age at which diocesan
bishops must submit their resignations – currently 75 – should be
aligned with the age at which cardinals are no longer able to vote in a
conclave. If someone has reached the age of retirement from running a
diocese elsewhere in the Church, does it make sense for them to be
eligible for “re-election” as bishop of Rome?
The second issue
concerns the access the cardinal electors should be permitted to have to
the outside world. I suggest they should be put out of the media’s
reach. This is not to denigrate the press or social media, which have a
significant and valuable role in forming the opinion of the cardinals
and of the faithful, and of public opinion more widely. But the media
should remain outside the “electoral booth” that is the conclave. The
physical and digital cloistering of the electors is not intended to
isolate them, but rather to allow them the space to discern freely among
themselves.
A conclave such as we had in 2005 and 2013, run
according to the same rules and in the same conditions, but with a group
of cardinals even less familiar with each other, and perhaps even more
emotionally exposed and vulnerable to external pressures and
manoeuvrings, need not lead to the horror scene I described in the first
paragraph. But it may incubate it. So why take the risk?
Alberto Melloni is professor of history of Christianity at University of Modena/Reggio Emilia, secretary of the Foundation for Religious Studies, and a member of the European Commission’s Group of Chief Scientific Advisers.
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