Merchants in the Temple (20 page)

These were festive days at the Vatican. April 26 was the eve of the Sunday of Divine Mercy, with the Holy Mass scheduled to take place at ten
A.M.
in St. Peter's Square for the beatification of Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims were expected, and significant security measures were taken. Early in the morning, someone had left a sealed parcel in the mailbox of the Prefecture. The package had no address and no return address. When the clerks opened it they found papers that they recognized immediately as some of the documents that had been stolen from the armored locker one month earlier.

The burglars had chosen to return a set of confidential papers dating back to 1970, regarding business relations between the Vatican, Umberto Ortolani (the corrupt middleman for the Freemasons), and the banker Michele Sindona. There were several letters from Sindona to the ecclesiastical hierarchs of the era, names that would be the source of major embarrassment for the Holy See. Sindona, in particular, was closely tied to the most powerful Mafia bosses active in the United States in the 1960s—from Vito Genovese to Joe Adonis to John Gambino. Together with Monsignor Casimir Marcinkus and the banker Roberto Calvi, Sindona had been the protagonist of one of the worst moments in the Vatican finances. Like Calvi, he also died in mysterious circumstances. Calvi was found hanging underneath the Blackfriars Bridge in London. Sindona was found dead in his prison cell after drinking coffee laced with cyanide, a few days after being sentenced to life imprisonment for having ordered the murder of the lawyer Giorgio Ambrosoli, who had been commissioned to liquidate one of Sindona's banks. For years, the investigators had claimed that both deaths were the result of suicide. Not until six years after his death was it discovered that Calvi had been murdered, but his accused murderers were all found not guilty in a series of trials. In the parcel that arrived in the Prefecture there was also an exchange of letters between Monsignor Giovanni Benelli, at the time the Substitute of the Secretary of State, and Cardinal Sergio Guerri, President of the Commission for the State of the Vatican City, who had written to Sindona. The correspondence made clear that Sindona was to feel at home at the Vatican, thanks in part to a network of relations and agreements drafted over the years. Sindona even received mail at the Holy See, with letters addressed to “Mr. Michele Sindona, c/o Pope Paul VI, The Vatican, Rome (Italy).” Sindona had also conducted business on behalf of the Vatican worth millions of the old lira, involving the transfer of blocks of shares in important companies, such as the shares that APSA held in the Smalterie Genovesi. (There was also the dramatic story of the huge hole in the finances of the Pantanella Company, into which the Holy See had made a no-return investment for the equivalent of 60 million euros in 1968 and 1969 which it continued to recapitalize, in the desperate hopes of saving a company that clearly had no future.)

In the Vatican, questions were raised, but not any alarms, about how to interpret this delivery, who might have made it, and what message it was meant to send.

The situation became more and more complicated. By that point—as Zahra put it in a few choice words spoken in a conversation with friends—“war had been declared.” Cardinal Pell tried to send reassuring messages to show that he was not intimidated. The perfect occasion presented itself a few weeks later. In an interview, Pell referred explicitly to the controversial characters who had been resuscitated:

This change was requested from the cardinals at the Congregations that preceded the Conclave. One year ago the Cardinals said “Enough.” Enough with these scandals … Proceed with perseverance.
Nunc coepimus
. We have just begun. We will go forward. We still need to improve. But one thing is certain: enough with Calvi and Sindona, enough of surprises that we learn in the newspapers … We need financial transparency, professionalism and honesty.
1

Some observers in the Curia thought Pell's reference to Sindona and Calvi was extemporaneous, maybe because they did not know the story of the mysterious parcel of letters from the Sicilian banker that had just been delivered to the Prefecture. To avoid media attention and possible resulting scandals, the occurrence was not made public, in keeping with most of the controversial events that take place within the holy palaces. The only element of the whole affair that filtered out was the news of the mysterious nighttime burglary in the Palace of the Congregations. The story of the parcel would have to remain top secret: otherwise Sindona's letters might attract the uncontrollable attention of the media.

To understand what actually triggered this no-holds-barred war, we need to take a step back and relate what happened only a few months earlier, just as the Commission's investigations were going full steam ahead and to touch on every corner of the Curia.

These were critical weeks that would determine a definitive split between the senior representatives of the Vatican. In addition to the COSEA investigations, starting in the fall of 2013 there were also concrete initiatives to reform the Vatican state and change its dicasteries, the rules and regulations that govern them, and indicate new roles, responsibilities, and hierarchies. At some point the “evangelical revolution” of the Curia driven by Francis—to repeat the words of his Uruguayan friend Guzmán Carriquiry Lecour—would risk implosion.
2
There was too much tension, and too many situations that inflame that small world—a world that by the will of the Gospel and of Francis should be a world of peace, mercy, and poverty but instead risked growing further and further away from its pastoral and theological dictates.

Bertone Makes a Noisy Exit

Day after day, in the fall of 2013, the extent of the reforms became clearer to everyone. Francis and his men were trying to make the move from analysis to action. Once the most compromised situations came into focus, the culprits were held accountable and dozens of wayward laypersons, bishops, and cardinals were quickly dismissed. The Pope did not act with stealth. He publicized the guidelines of his pontificate, inviting the involvement of everyone, inside and outside the walls.

Francis sought to be inclusive, collecting in the new power centers the souls of every member of the Curia from the Focolare movement to Opus Dei, from ex-Bertone loyalists to diplomats and the representatives of the episcopates of the two Americas, but he did not always succeed. The pilgrims, parishes, and rank-and-file Catholics were enthusiastic. In the Vatican, however, the Pope's moves often provoked the opposite reaction. Every day the ranks of the malcontent grew by a few new members, religious people who were frustrated or trying to delay a change they feared.

Francis's opponents became more numerous and alarmed when, over a ten-day period in late September 2013, the Pope granted two long interviews that stunned the Curia. The first was granted to the Jesuit priest Antonio Spadaro, the respected editor-in-chief of the prestigious magazine
La Civiltà
Cattolica
:

The dicasteries of the Roman Curia are at the service of the Pope and the bishops. They must help both the particular churches and the bishops' conferences. They are instruments of help … The Roman congregations are mediators; they are not middlemen or managers. How are we treating the people of God? I dream of a church that is mother and shepherdess … God is greater than sin. The structural and organizational reforms are secondary—that is, they come afterward. The first reform must be the attitude. The ministers of the Gospel must be people who can warm the hearts of the people, who walk through the dark night with them, who know how to dialogue and to descend themselves into their people's night, into the darkness, but without getting lost. The people of God want pastors, not clergy acting like bureaucrats or government officials.
3

A few days later the Bishop of Rome returned to the same subject. This time he chose an Italian intellectual, an atheist, Eugenio Scalfari, founder of the daily newspaper
la Repubblica
. In this interview he was even clearer:

Heads of the Church have often been narcissists, flattered and thrilled by their courtiers. The court is the leprosy of the papacy. There are sometimes courtiers in the Curia, but the Curia as a whole is another thing … The Curia is Vatican-centric. It sees and looks after the interests of the Vatican, which are still, for the most part, temporal interests. I do not share this view and I'll do everything I can to change it … I have decided as the first thing to appoint a group of eight cardinals as my advisors. Not courtiers but wise persons who share my same sentiments. This is the beginning of a Church with an organization that is not only vertical but also horizontal.
4

Francis gave a harsh direct analysis of all those who had abused their power for decades. But passing from words to deeds would not be easy. In the holy palaces the two interviews became the main subject of discussion among the cardinals. Almost no one had expected such sharp words. It was the first time that a pope had expressed such a firm attitude, a clear sign that his revolution was meant to be much more than empty promises. This time the Curia really did have to change. Francis showed himself to be authoritative but not authoritarian. His decisiveness was always tempered by his kind manners.

Bergoglio's attitude and his groundbreaking public statements made his closest collaborators even more enthusiastic about participating in the change. In particular, the men who had pushed for greater transparency, and been ignored for years, were now ready to stake everything on Francis. They included Monsignor Viganò who, from the nunciature in Washington, started to engage in a more intense dialogue with the monsignors and priests at the Secretariat of State as well as with various laypeople who held important roles within the administrative bodies of the Holy See.

And there was also Nigel Baker, the Ambassador of Great Britain to the Holy See, who on October 3, 2013, sent Peter Bryan Wells, the Assessor for General Affairs of the Secretariat of State, a “personal and confidential” missive. Baker attached to the letter a confidential five-page memo, signed by Thomas Stonor, 7th Baron Camoys, an English politician and descendant of King Charles II of England. For thirty-five years Stonor had been a prominent banker on the board of directors of some of Europe's most important credit institutions, including Barclays and Amex. Ltd. Stonor wanted to forward to the upper echelons of the Holy See a document he considered decisive, a proposal articulating a precise, detailed reform of the Vatican economies.

The surprising thing was the date of the proposal: June 22, 2004. This meant that nine years earlier the banker had submitted the memo to Cardinals Nicora and Bertone, and that his ideas had been ignored. Stonor, in addition to being an expert on financial issues, had also been a close collaborator of the Church as an advisor to APSA. By virtue of this role, and after consulting Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, he had sent the memorandum to the top dogs of the Holy See. Its contents were still relevant, which is why the British baron was now going back on the attack through the mediation of the British ambassador:

The historic structure, with regard to the financial management of the resources of the Holy See, is not only inappropriate for the 21st century but also dangerous to the resources of the Holy See and potentially to its reputation … It is dangerous because of the risks due to involvement of money laundering (through the IOR) or simply the mismanagement of the financial activities and/or annual budget. After the Calvi affair any event related to the points discussed previously would in all likelihood damage the reputation of the Holy See. During the sporadic meetings with the APSA advisors, I mentioned some of these concerns, but in vain: perhaps I did not explain myself clearly enough … At APSA I notice a lack of decision-making power, which is understandable as a consequence of the Calvi affair … I ask myself quite seriously whether the Holy See really needs an entity like the IOR. All of its services could be provided by other banks and with greater security … in particular, reference is made to the very serious risk of becoming involved in episodes of money laundering.

The document was read and interpreted by the men closest to Francis as further proof of the fact that many at the Apostolic See knew how critical things were but had no intention of changing their approach—starting, perhaps, with the Secretary of State, Tarcisio Bertone, whose term was set to expire in a few days. The handover ceremony from Bertone to his successor, Archbishop Pietro Parolin, the Apostolic Nuncio to Caracas, was on the calendar for mid-October.

The audience had already been scheduled, but something unexpected arose. Parolin was unable to attend because he had to undergo minor surgery. The appointment could have been postponed, but Francis seemed not to want the Secretary to be in power even one day longer. So rather than a handover ceremony there was a tense farewell meeting, with clichéd expressions of gratitude.
5
Bertone made use of the occasion to try to rehabilitate himself with the new Pope, describing the “crows” and “snakes” in the Holy See, as he would often repeat to the few loyalists he had left and in public settings.
6
But it was too late.

For some time, the powerful secretary chosen by Ratzinger was more isolated and less influential. “In the first six months of the pontificate”—one prelate let slip in a conversation with some clerics at the end of the ceremony—“the Pope has acted as if Bertone didn't exist.” In fact, the Pontiff had gone through the first six months of his pontificate without a Secretary of State. Bertone had never won his trust. This was intimated by Óscar Rodríguez Maradiaga, a loyalist of Jorge Bergoglio and a maverick Salesian, the first cardinal in history from Honduras and the coordinator of the so-called C8, the Council of Eight Cardinals chosen by the Holy Father to help him in guiding the Universal Church.