You see them, heads close together, chatting quietly, in their favourite restaurants in Rome.
It might be Velando, close to St Peter’s Basilica.
Or they might go further west to Rinaldi al’Quirinale, where members of the Italian intelligence service enjoy the seafood as much as the princes of the Church do.
Not that those princes – the elite squad of the Roman Catholic Church, its cardinals who elect the Pope – seem all that different to other priests, as, for lunch, they dress down in black suits and Roman collars.
The giveaway is the heavy gold ring each wears – placed on their finger by whichever pope made them a cardinal.
Now, those lunching cardinals are becoming more gossipy, more conspiratorial in tone. On December 7, Pope Francis will create another 21 cardinals in a lavish Vatican ceremony.
But there are mutterings about the health of the Pope himself, who is in his 87th year and often in a wheelchair.
Who should be the next Pope, they ask, and how can someone ensure his favoured fellow cardinal reaches the throne of St Peter?
The plotting that surrounds the election of a Pope is the stuff of Conclave, the film based on Robert Harris’s novel of the same name, and starring Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci and John Lithgow, released this past weekend.
It is set when a fictional pope has died and cardinals from across the world are locked into the Sistine Chapel for secret deliberations until they reach a two thirds majority decision to elect a new pope.
But the election of a pope is more complicated – and conspiratorial – than Conclave suggests.
Rather than be the only setting for such plotting, a conclave is the endgame. For conversations about those considered papabile – likely candidates to become Pope – happen with increasing frequency as an existing papacy grows longer, and a pontiff grows older.
Of course, cardinal-electors are supposed to be guided by the Holy Spirit in their final choice of Pope. But, in reality – as in Conclave – mucky manoeuvrings are par for the course.
As John Cornwell wrote in A Thief in the Night, his celebrated investigation into the curious death of Pope John Paul I in September 1978 just 33 days after his election, today’s Vatican can be “a palace of gossipy eunuchs… a village of washerwomen… they get down in the river, wash clothes, punch them, dance on them, squeezing out all the old dirt.”
Well before the cardinals will gather in the Sistine Chapel for a real conclave, blocs of voters have started to form. Elderly cardinals over the maximum voting age of 80 have lobbied the eligible voters; lunches and dinners of the type described above have taken place; and even the embassies of various nations to the Holy See – the UK’s included – have held some sway.
Despite its name – “con clave” means “with key” and suggests deliberations are secret – what goes on behind locked doors has rarely stayed private for long. Prior to the first conclave in 1241, popes had either been imposed on the Church by the powerful kings or rulers in charge of Rome, or elected by the city’s inhabitants by popular acclaim.
They included, it is written in many papal chronicles, the ninth-century Joan, a woman disguised as a man whose true identity was only revealed when she gave birth in the street mid-papal procession.
The change of format came about following the death of Pope Gregory IX, who had been at odds with the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick II. A group of 10 cardinals were locked in the ancient and squalid Septizonium Palace in the city (two other cardinals were being held prisoner elsewhere by Frederick) by those who wanted the new pope to be staunchly anti-Emperor.
Despite their privations, the prelates couldn’t agree on the right man. One died in the sweltering heat. Finally, after 60 days it all became too much. They compromised on an elderly monk, who took the name Celestius IV.
The nine remaining cardinals quickly fled the city. Their haste was rewarded when, two days after taking office and without performing a single official duty, the aged and frail new Pope promptly died.
Such abject failure of the first conclave did not stop them becoming key to the papal election process going forward. And the physical discomfort endured by the first participants was retained, as far as was possible, with poor rations, basic quarters and quasi-imprisonment for months on end.
In fact, the papal election following the death of Pope Clement IV lasted almost three years, from November 1268 to September 1271.
The last two conclaves took place in 2005 (after the death of John Paul II, which led to the election of Benedict XVI) and in 2013 (when Benedict shocked the world by resigning and was replaced by the current Pope Francis). Each involved a first vote in the evening, more the next day, and was over within 28 hours. The famous white smoke rose from the Sistine Chapel chimney, bells rang, the crowds cheered and a cardinal announced from St Peter’s balcony: “Habemus papam” – We have a Pope.
In 2005, Joseph Ratzinger was one of the most senior cardinals based in the Vatican. There was a sense that well-organised conservative Cardinals outplayed liberal ones with their lobbying of the undecided, ensuring that Ratzinger, with his critique of modern culture, love of traditional liturgy, and a focus on European Catholicism, took the throne of Peter as Benedict XVI.
By 2013, when Benedict resigned, the progressive cardinals, who advocate more involvement of the laity in the Church, prefer modern worship, and are less insistent on strict rules opposing birth control and divorce, were more organised.
One key, pre-conclave meeting was held by the UK Embassy to the Holy See. For some years, the ambassador to the Holy See, Francis Campbell, had, like other ambassadors, hosted dinners for major Vatican events at his residence. The guests included not only Vatican officials and cardinals and bishops from the UK, but also cardinals from around the Commonwealth.
“We once had 28 cardinals around our table,” Campbell recalls. “We would gather cardinals from Ghana, Nigeria, Kenya, south-east Asia. It was about the networking capability of the Foreign Office, but it also gave these cardinals an opportunity to meet Vatican-based cardinals they might not know and talk about the Church and its needs.”
By the time Benedict resigned, Campbell had been succeeded by another ambassador, Nigel Baker, who continued the tradition, hosting an event with the Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, for Commonwealth cardinals.
Although he was just over the maximum conclave voting age of 80, Murphy-O’Connor was in Rome for the pre-conclave gatherings called general congregations. He was a friend of Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Buenos Aires and made sure that he let the embassy gathering know who they should vote for. Bergoglio was duly elected as Pope Francis.
Bergoglio himself spoke to the assembled cardinals during their pre-conclave gatherings and seemingly convinced his colleagues that he had the strength of character and the vision to take on reform of the Church – and of the Vatican, including its troubled finances.
Jean-Baptiste de Franssu, chairman of the Vatican Bank, told me recently how much impact the time between Benedict’s resignation and Francis’s election made on the cardinals. “There were more opportunities to talk about the challenges the Church faced,” he said. “It was unusual.”
During the days of the sede vacante, or interregnum, before the conclave, Vatican officials are forbidden from leaving Rome unless for a personal emergency, but undoubtedly speculate about who will get elected.
One bishop who was permitted to leave to attend a relative’s funeral before the 2013 conclave sheepishly admitted to me that back home he had placed a bet on the conclave’s outcome. He won: he had heard enough gossip in Rome to be convinced, even before the doors of the Sistine Chapel were locked, that Bergoglio would emerge as pope.
Now, 11 years later, Francis is thinking about the future, with his latest batch of 21 cardinals about to be installed. Analysis of the College of Cardinals shows a sharp change in its make-up during his 13 year papacy. There are just six voting cardinals left from John Paul’s time, plus another 24 voters appointed by Benedict.
Once the Dec 7 cardinals are included, there will be 111 voters appointed by Francis and so his liberal picks could easily achieve the two thirds majority needed.
With the new intake, the number of English cardinals will rise to four. Arthur Roche, head of a Vatican department on worship, Archbishop of Westminster Vincent Nichols and Michael Fitzgerald – appointed after a lifetime of service to interfaith dialogue – will be joined by Timothy Radcliffe, a Dominican friar and former master of his Order.
The cardinals’ installation ceremony – called the consistory – is when cardinals are introduced into the College of Cardinals and get to know their fellow “red hats”.
Cardinal Nichols, who was consulted by Ralph Fiennes for Conclave regarding the rituals and practices of a cardinal, holds membership of several Vatican departments, including the one that chooses bishops and meets every fortnight, so he sees more of Rome than most. “It is difficult for those who are not doing so,” he says.
“At one time we also used to have discussions organised around the time of consistories but that has not happened so often.”
That has consequences for what happens at the next conclave, when cardinals – some of them little known and inexperienced – weigh up the Church’s future and assess who is best placed to lead it.
Will Francis do a Ratzinger and resign, after attempting to reform the Catholic Church? Neither Nichols nor Fitzgerald thinks so.
“At first he thought he would be there just five years,” says Fitzgerald, “but now I believe he will die in office. He’s gone past the moment for resignation.”
The eminent church historian Alberto Melloni wants voting to change, arguing that the general congregations have “inevitable leaks and distracting incidents”. He wants a gathering without the too-old-to-vote red hats.
Fitzgerald, too old to vote, disagrees: “I think we have something to say.”
And what about the man who will be the next Pope?
“As Paul Gascoigne said, talking about Newcastle United,” said Nichols. “I don’t do predictions.”
He might be the soul of discretion about naming names, but he is clear what it takes – something much more profound and timeless than the social media dominated 21st century might suggest: “Strength of purpose, a strong will, and an unshakeable trust and confidence in the Lord’s presence.”