By night, he was a different man, obsessed with helping root out what he saw as corruption in the Roman Catholic Church.
The pious butler who helped Pope
Benedict dress and served him his meals now finds himself on trial for
aggravated theft, accused of stealing documents in what could prove to
be the most sensational Vatican trial in decades.
Gabriele, 46, a reserved family man and devout Catholic, told investigators he acted for the good of the Church.
While tending to the man Catholics
believe is Christ's vicar on earth, the clean-cut, black-haired butler
said he saw “evil and corruption everywhere in the Church”, and began
leaking the papers that would cause one of the biggest crisis of Pope
Benedict's papacy.
The documents, which Gabriele
admits he photocopied and passed to an Italian journalist, contained
allegations of corruption in the Vatican's business dealings.
His trial, which could bring a sentence of up to four years in jail, starts in the Vatican's small tribunal on Saturday.
Gabriele told a pre-trial inquiry
that he never received payment for the papers, which included personal
letters to the pope, but felt he was acting for the good of the Church
and as an “agent” of the Holy Spirit.
“I was sure that a shock, perhaps
by using the media, could be a healthy thing to bring the Church back on
the right track,” he said in pre-trial testimony, explaining how he
felt the pope was not sufficiently informed of problems the letters
outlined.
The butler, who told investigators
he was in a state of confusion and disorder in the months leading to
his arrest, seems to have been thrown into a crisis of conscience by
insights into the inner workings of the Vatican that he encountered.
Acquaintances interviewed by
investigators described a devout Catholic and a good father who lived in
a comfortable apartment in the Vatican with his wife and three
children.
To fathom the apparent gulf
between Gabriele's acts and his appearance as a reserved and obedient
servant of the pope, the Vatican summoned psychologists to determine if
he could be held responsible for his actions.
The
results were conflicting.
One report cited in the indictment concluded
that Gabriele showed no signs of major psychological disorder or of
being dangerous.
But another concluded the
opposite: that while he could be held accountable for his actions, he
was socially dangerous, easily influenced and could “commit acts that
could endanger himself or others”.
The latter described Gabriele as
subject to ideas of “grandiosity”, as attention-seeking, and as a simple
man with a “fragile personality with paranoid tendencies covering
profound personal insecurity”.
He turned to more than one person
to share his anguish. He confided in a man he called his “Spiritual
Father”, referred to only as “B” in the indictment, and passed copies of
incriminating papers to him as well as to the journalist.
“B” told investigators he destroyed the documents because he knew they had been obtained illegally.
The trial may shed more light on the strange case of Paolo Gabriele, the man who started out as a humble cleaner in the Vatican, slowly rose to become an aide to one of the most revered spiritual leaders, and then quickly fell from grace.