January-February 2001

You think we had an election mess? Look at this one!

by Robert McClory

After the recent presidential vote-counting debacle, some have suggested the United States might learn a thing or two about running trouble-free elections by studying the tried and true papal system. When a pope dies, the cardinal electors all hustle to Rome, lock the doors and debate the candidates. In a few days, voilá — white smoke and a new Holy Father! No press interference, no public hassles, no recount. What could be more efficient?

In fact, papal elections have not always been as trouble free as they seem today. Consider, as a cautionary tale, an historic 14th century election, which bears some eerie resemblances to events of our own day. There was bitter division between the French and Italian Cardinals who met in Rome in 1378 to replace a deceased pope. Italian citizens were determined to see an Italian elected, but the French cardinals were in the majority. As the sacred college was deliberating, an angry mob of Republicans, er… Italians, invaded the consistory and threatened death or worse if their demands were ignored. Shaken and intimidated, the cardinals did eventually select an Italian (who was not even a cardinal) and he became Pope Urban VI.

Meanwhile, six cardinals who were in Palm Beach, er…Avignon, France, and had missed the consistory, complained that they did not have a chance to cast their ballots; they demanded a recount. So the French cardinals and some of the Italians left Rome for a safer location where they were joined by the Avignon contingent. They cast new ballots, electing a Frenchman, Clement VII, as the real pope and declaring the original election invalid.

Not to be outdone, Urban immediately named 28 new cardinals, all of whom supported his claim to the papacy. He therefore excommunicated Clement, who moved to Avignon and insisted (Bush-like) that he alone had the votes of the true electoral college and was the legitimate pope. For the next 31 years no one knew who the real pope was. Half of Christendom went with the pope in Rome, half with the pope in Avignon.

Some dioceses had two bishops, each calling the other a schismatic and heretic. During these years Urban and Clement both died, but competing successors were quickly elected by the two competing colleges of cardinals.

The situation became so confused that cardinals from both sides assembled in Pisa in 1409 (as a kind of Supreme Court) to restore order. This assembly repudiated both popes and elected a new Italian, Alexander V, as the true pope. Unfortunately, the competing popes refused to resign. Thus, for the next eight years the Church had three popes, one in Rome, one in Avignon, and one in Pisa (which may explain why the tower leaned).

The weary cardinals met again in 1417, at a council in Constance, and dismissed all three popes on the principle that the decrees of an ecumenical council take precedence over those of any pope. They then elected a brave Italian, Martin V, as sole pope. This time the decision stuck. The Roman pope and the Pisa pope (John XXIII) both resigned, though the Avignon pope (with Gore-like determination) tried to hang on for a few years, excommunicating everyone in sight. At last, after nearly 40 years, what has come to be known as the Great Western Schism was over. Needless to say, this damaged Church credibility for centuries.

Only time will tell whether the 2000 election snafu may lead to a similar tangle of competing U.S. presidents in the years ahead. History (gasp!) has a way of repeating itself.