Before the White Smoke Rises

Living and teaching in Rome at the Gregorian University from 1973 to 2006 provided a front row seat for much recent papal history. I joined the congregation for the funeral Mass of Paul VI (pope 1963–1978), distributed Holy Communion at the installation of John Paul I (pope 1978), and just over a month later attended his funeral in the rain.

John Paul II (pope 1978–2005) began his pontificate by addressing the predominantly Italian crowd gathered in St Peter’s Square and asking them, “When I make mistakes in your—no, our—language, please correct me.” Clearly, no matter what other strengths the new pope brought to his ministry, he was also a first-rate actor who knew how to deliver his lines.

In 2005, I was on Edward Stourton’s BBC Radio team for a broadcast presenting John Paul II’s funeral. A few weeks later I returned with Brian Hanrahan of BBC Television for the conclave (“with the key” or gathering of cardinals under eighty years of age “locked into” the Sistine Chapel to elect Benedict XVI (pope 2005–2013).

Three of these four popes had strong links with the Gregorian University: Paul VI and John Paul I were alumni; Benedict XVI taught there as a visiting professor in 1973. Some other cardinals who elected him had also lectured there, and over 40 per cent of the electors were former students.

The media spends weeks preceding the conclave by listing the names and electoral chances of various cardinals, the papabili, an Italian term long since incorporated in the English language. Dan Brown—he of The Da Vinci Code—never got around to checking the snatches of Italian with which he sprinkled his novel about a conclave, Angels and Demons. He seemed unfamiliar with papabili and called the front-running cardinals the preferiti, a term used for favourites in horse races.

Before the papal conclave opens, some light-hearted arguments may be offered, such as “thin popes follow tubby ones”. Paul VI was unquestionably thinner than his predecessor, John XXIII. But was Benedict XVI less tubby than John Paul II? Nay-sayers swoop on the scene by sceptically repeating a traditional proverb: those who enter the conclave papabili come out papabili. This is not always the case. Before the conclave in 1963, Paul VI already looked the obvious choice. And the same was true of Benedict XVI in 2005. They entered papabili and came out popes.

The wider public often lacks a personal knowledge of cardinals, which could guide predictions about the next pope—a lesson I learned in 1978.

Over the summer I had been leading a spiritual program for a community of religious sisters in Glasgow when Paul VI died. On the way back to Rome for the funeral, I stopped for a memorable August evening with the editor of the London Tablet, Tom Burns, in his London apartment close to Westminster Cathedral. Wearing a shirt that barely covered his stomach, he stood in front of a tall mantelpiece and put the question to several formally dressed guests: “Who do you think will become the next pope?” Various names were mentioned, but nobody joined Tom in suggesting Cardinal Albino Luciani, the patriarch of Venice. We had our papal candidates, and gave our reasons. Tom kept his eyes on a truly holy papabile, whose publications and preaching revealed talents that matched the prime level of journalism.

Back in Rome, one other person predicted the election of John Paul I: Maurizio Flick, a tall and acclaimed Italian colleague at the Gregorian whose German-style name pointed to his Swiss origins. When I asked him why he chose Luciani, “He was the only clean [pulito] Italian cardinal”, came the frank reply from someone well acquainted with Italian cardinals—not least from giving the spiritual exercises to the pope and many cardinals at the Vatican. Flick also knew that a majority of foreign cardinals was still ready to vote for an Italian, provided that his holy way of living and human abilities made him a suitable successor for Peter the apostle as head of the Church.

At the three conclaves I attended, leaks about what took place seemed to increase, despite an official policy of secrecy.

Some of the leaks were trivial: Cardinal Ratzinger, when he was elected and became Benedict XVI in April 2005, carried off in his pocket the keys to a telephone that should have at once alerted the churches around Rome to his being chosen. Intent on changing into papal dress, he forgot that, in a spirit of jubilation, peals of bells right across the eternal city were to back up the message of the white smoke coming from the rustic chimney above the Sistine Chapel where the cardinals had been meeting.

More serious disclosures, for instance, provided information about Cardinal Franz König of Vienna emerging as a front runner and apparently only one round of voting from being elected at the second conclave in 1978. “Don’t vote for me,” he urged, “I’m too old.” He obviously encouraged the “candidature” of Cardinal Karol Wojtyla, who emerged as Pope John Paul II. Such leaks may come from cardinals attending the conclave. But let us not ignore, especially at the two latest conclaves (2005 and 2013), the presence of other “suspects”: for instance, those who drive the minivans from “Santa Marta” to the Sistine Chapel and ferry the electors home to that Vatican guesthouse for lunch and in the evening. Four times a day they can listen to cardinals, especially older ones, discussing, sometimes in loud voices, the sessions they have just completed or are about to face at the conclave. Add too the information coming from those who staff “Santa Marta”. Their commitment to silence may not always be perfect.

The white smoke from the Sistine Chapel and ringing of bells across the Roman sky announce the election of the new pope. But who is he? In the hour or less that elapses before his name is publicly announced and he steps forward onto the balcony of St Peter’s Basilica, thousands of people charge across the city of Rome. In next to no time, 100,000 people can gather in St Peter’s Square and the adjacent Via della Conciliazione to share personally in the breaking news from the papal conclave.

The name the new pope chooses will obviously be shaped by the perspective of an incipient program. It may weigh on the mind of the next incoming pope not to associate himself too closely with some immediate predecessors by calling himself, for instance, Pius XIII, Paul VII, John Paul III, or Benedict XVII. But he might want to express continuity with Pope Francis by choosing Francis II. Or he could pick up a name not used by previous popes, by turning, for instance, to the family of Jesus and introducing, for the first time, Pope Joseph. Before the new pope has literally said a word, his chosen name may speak volumes.

In describing what happens at a papal election, we should not forget a pope’s first words to the thousands of people gathered to welcome him. On a wet evening in late 2013, Pope Francis began by proving himself a model of utter simplicity: “Buona sera” (good evening). When John Paul I appeared on the balcony of St Peter’s, he seemed overcome; he simply gave his blessing, smiled, waved at the crowd, and disappeared inside. The following day, Sunday August 27, 1978, he delighted the people gathered in St Peter’s Square for his midday blessing. He began: “Yesterday I went off to vote without a worry in the world, and suddenly I saw the danger.” His very first word, yesterday, drew long applause from the crowd. They started to feel that they could share with him the experience of being elected pope, almost in the spirit of “Yesterday a funny thing happened to me on the way to the Forum.” It was clear that Catholics and the whole world were blessed in having a pope who could communicate in ordinary language.

Who will Pope Joseph be? I would be delighted if the cardinals were to elect the Gregorian alumnus and present Secretary of State, Cardinal Pietro Parolin. He is certainly papabile. But at this point speculation seems crass, or at least inappropriate.

What we can clearly expect, however, will be films (new and old) featuring papal conclaves: Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons (starring Tom Hanks), Nanni Moretti’s masterpiece Habemus Papam (starring Moretti, who is also the director), and Robert Harris’s Conclave (based on his novel Conclave about a fictional pope). Published in 2016, this novel will have its counterpart in a film to be released in the US in November and starring Ralph Fiennes. Moretti and Harris have made themselves well informed about the rules and procedures for conclaves, even if they leave many people surprised by the popes they represent as elected.

Dan Brown often throws Italian words into his English text in an attempt to give it verisimilitude. One Swiss guard asks another whether he has “scopato” the Sistine Chapel, that is, “Have you swept the Sistine Chapel?” The problem remains, however, that in Italian the extended meaning of scopare is “have sexual relations”, not check for concealed electronic devices.

Professor emeritus of the Gregorian University and now resident in Melbourne, Gerald O’Collins, SJ, has authored, co-authored, or edited nearly ninety books.