CHAPTER ONE

The Next Conclave

Popes are elected for life, and there is no such thing as a deputy pope. Consequently no one is "a heartbeat away from the papacy." Yet someone has to take charge when the pope dies. In 1991 the Spanish Cardinal Eduardo Martinez Somalo was appointed "camerlengo," or chamberlain. His first task will be to check that John Paul II is truly dead. This is traditionally done by tapping him on the forehead with a silver hammer.

Then he has to notify the cardinal vicar for Rome, Cardinal Camillo Ruini, who will tell the world. The "camerlengo" will then organize the funeral, to which world leaders will come. He will arrange for the "Novemdiales," or nine days of mourning, and the lying in state of the body of the pope, attired in pontifical vestments, in the Vatican basilica. He will arrange for the destruction of the Fisherman's Ring and of the lead seal used for Apostolic Letters. He will place seals on the pope's study and bedroom. He will convene General Congregations during which the cardinals will praise the recently deceased pope, familiarize themselves with the rules for the coming election, and delicately hint at what sort of pope is needed next. But Martinez Somalo's main task is to organize the conclave itself The one near certainty is that he will not be elected himself.

The assembly of cardinals that will elect Pope John Paul's successor is called a conclave because they are locked up "con clave" ("with a key"), preventing communication with the outside world. In previous conclaves they have actually been locked inside the Apostolic Palace, to the right of St. Peter's, which includes the Sistine Chapel, telephone wires were ripped out, andoutward-looking windows were shuttered and sealed. But John Paul II has built the cardinals a new and comfortable hotel block, the Domus Sanctae Marthae (in Latin) or just the Santa Marta (in Italian)-St. Martha's-with 108 suites and 23 single rooms, all with private baths, but with rather thin walls so that conversations can be overheard. There are just enough rooms to accommodate the 120 cardinal electors plus the secretary of the college of cardinals, the master of papal liturgical celebrations, two masters of ceremonies, two religious attached to the papal sacristy, and an ecclesiastic to assist the cardinal dean. A couple of doctors and some cooks are also to be allowed inside, as well as some priests to hear confessions in the various languages spoken by the cardinals. All of these will take a solemn oath of secrecy.

From the Santa Marta the cardinals will be "transported" (presumably by bus) a mere stone's throw across the Vatican courtyards to the Apostolic Palace, under strict security so that no one can approach them along the way. Inside there will be no cameras, radios, televisions, tape recorders, mobile phones, modems, or fax machines. Two trustworthy technicians will search the buildings for bugging devices. The cardinals will be totally incommunicado. They will be forbidden to make phone calls, send or receive messages, read newspapers, listen to the radio, or watch television.

Hundreds of journalists and television reporters will converge upon Rome, hoping in vain to break the security; instead, they will have to spin words and juggle speculations in the protracted news blackout. Much nonsense will be written. Bookmakers will offer odds. Fools will take them.

Yeta few things may be said with fair certainty about this future event. The conclave will be made up of a maximum of 120 cardinals none of whom will be over eighty (as of the day the previous pope died). Although the cardinals could theoretically elect any male Catholic, it is virtually certain that the next pope will be sitting there among them. So it is safe to assume that the next pope will be male and will emerge from the college of cardinals. According to the predictions customarily ascribed to the twelfth-century archbishop of Armagh, St. Malachy, his motto will be "Oliva pacis," the "Olive branch of peace."

Beyond that, it is impossible to predict the result of the next conclave-for the simple reason that we do not know "when" it will occur. As of October 1999, John Paul 11 had already completed twenty-one years as pope. Undoubtedly we have entered the preconclave period that comes toward the end of any long pontificate.

This can be said without having any privileged insight into the state of Pope John Paul's health. For some years now, the Vatican has stopped denying that he is suffering from Parkinson's disease, a progressive degenerative condition that slows him down, makes him shake, and gives his face an impassive appearance. The shaking can be controlled by drugs, but the side effect is a slurring of the speech: John Paul is now very hard to understand when he speaks over a public address system, no matter what language he is using.

But Parkinson's is no quick killer. There have always been health scares, which Vatican watchers have seized on with alacrity. The first and most dramatic was in 1981 when a Turkish assassin, Mehmet Ali Agca, tried to kill him in St. Peter'sSquare on May 13, feast of Our Lady of Fatima. The two operations John Paul underwent for the removal of the bullets would have taxed the strength of a less tough constitution.

But he recovered, remarkably, attributing his escape to Our Lady of Fatima. On the first anniversary of the shooting, in 1982, he went to Fatima in Portugal and left behind one of the bullets as a memento. He was back again in 1991 on the tenth anniversary of the shooting. On his return to Rome he remarked, "I consider this entire decade to be a free gift, given to me in a special way by Divine Providence."' So he has had a sense of living on borrowed time and feels confirmed in his policies: if he has been spared by Divine Providence, it is surely for some purpose.

Who will be the next pope? With the waning health of John Paul II, that question is being hotly debated around the world. The answer has profound implications not only for the future direction of Catholicism, but also for the course of world politics and culture. This timely guide, completely revised and updated, offers an inside look at the top contenders, whose remarkable diversity--with several African, Asian, European, and North American cardinals, two Jesuits, a Jewish convert, and several Italians leading the list--reflects how dramatically the Church has changed in the past forty years.

The authors, who have closely observed some of the Church's key leaders, provide a compelling, behind-the-scenes look at the dramatic process of electing a pope. They evaluate the political maneuvering, examine the issues sure to influence the next conclave's decision (including the need for a skilled diplomat and a return to choosing an Italian, the ordination of women, and the question of married priests), and project the most likely successors to John Paul II. After demystifying this fascinating yet notoriously secretive process, the Hebblethwaites use their expertise to identify the basic options--to pursue a moderate or a conservative course--that will face the conclave.

Peter Hebblethwaite was a widely respected commentator and journa list who covered trends and events in the Catholic Church.

Margaret Hebblethwaite is the assistant editor of theBritish journal The Tablet.