Around the death of Pope Francis and the election of Pope Leo XIV last year, it became impressive how great the public interest in the Catholic Church can be.
The movie "Conclave" experienced a surprising comeback months after its launch, Wikipedia recorded record access, and also on Google, the papal election catapulted the head of the Catholic Church to the top of the searches.
Millions look spellbound to Rome, to the center of the church.
A central reason: the strangeness of the ritualized papal election and the closely guarded secret that surrounds the conclave. There are many elections.
But the dramaturgy of the conclave, combined with a strictly demanded secrecy, secured by oath and divine threat of punishment, makes the papal election a special case.
Officially, the Pope alone is allowed to speak after a conclave about the events of his election. To ensure this, the cardinals are completely sealed off from the outside world during the conclave.
Anyone who reports the election risks excommunication – the exclusion from the church.
Cardinals in Plauderlaune
But it wasn't long before cardinals got into a chattering mood after the conclave.
The Philippine Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle, for example, reported how he supported the later Pope Leo XIV on the final straight of the election.
When his seatmate Robert Francis Prevost realized during the counting of votes that the election would fall on him, he suddenly breathed heavily, according to Tagle. He then offered him a candy.
In addition to such harmless anecdotes, much more substantial information is now also available to the public. Vatican experts Gerard O'Connell and Elisabetta Piqué have recently published a book about the conclave.
In the Spanish-language book "El último Cónclave" they reconstruct in detail the distributions of the individual ballots and describe what took place in the Sistine Chapel. The research will be published in English in March.
Church and Media
In addition, the book provides an insightful look at the ambivalent relationship between church and media.
In diary-like form and on around 450 pages, the authors trace their journalistic work around the death of Francis and the election of Leo, lead into Roman back rooms, analyze intrigue and power games and reveal the background of a conclave that was less secret than it should be on paper.
Piqués and O'Connell's remarks make it clear: The church's secrecy bid lasts only as long as it benefits those involved. Without revealing their sources, the two Vatican experts describe how information specifically reaches journalists – to strengthen individual candidates or damage others.
Cardinals diligently used WhatsApp, SMS, email and phone before and after the conclave to launch, comment or influence reporting. Quite a few church princes followed earthly interests rather than heavenly inspiration.
So Piqué and O'Connell report that the cardinals have been accumulated not to give interviews. This is followed by a large number of conversation notes, which the two were able to make during interviews with cardinals. The focus of the incense games was, among other things, the Italian Cardinal Pietro Parolin.
As Cardinal Secretary of State, he is a favorite for the papal throne. So Piqué and O'Connell write in detail about cardinals who actively campaigned for the election of Parolin, but also of launched information and false reports that were supposed to damage the second man in the Vatican.
The Church Problem with Transparency
That has tradition.
Since the French Revolution and the rise of freedom of the press, the Church has struggled with transparency. This was evident at the First and Second Vatican Councils as well as later synods.
Journalists always found ways – and willing churchmen – to obtain information and documents. Some clergy even reported themselves, often under a pseudonym, from inside the power centers. For example, the priest and journalist Francis X wrote.
Murphy, under the pseudonym Xavier Rynne, texts from the Second Vatican Council that attracted worldwide attention. While those in charge of the church tried to stop the sale of the writings in Roman bookshops.
Sometimes such indiscretions led to more openness, sometimes to tightened rules.
But at the latest in the digital age, it became inevitable what Piqué and O'Connell now prove for the past conclave: information can no longer be controlled as before.
Backroom conversations, targeted leaks and lively WhatsApp chat are now part of the communicative everyday life in the church – with both progressive and conservative forces.
Even if many would dispute this – the state of church communication policy, which Piqué and O'Connell draw on the example of the 2025 conclave, speaks a clear language.