In the Closet of the Vatican

by Frédéric Martel

  These rumours and gossip, which were regularly passed on to me at the Vatican without ever being proven, all focus on the same thing: an emotional relationship.

  This is also the thesis of a book by David Berger, published in Germany: Der Heilige Schein (The Holy Imposture). A first-hand witness, Berger was a young neo-Thomist theologian from Bavaria, who rose rapidly through the Vatican when he became a member of the Pontifical Academy of St Thomas Aquinas in Rome and a contributor to several journals published by the holy see. Cardinals and prelates alike flattered – and sometimes made passes at – this closeted homosexual, even though he had never been ordained a priest. The young man responded to their attentions.

  For somewhat mysterious reasons, this adviser with a boundless ego suddenly adopted a militantly pro-homosexual position, becoming editor-in-chief of one of the main gay German newspapers. Hardly surprisingly, the Vatican immediately withdrew his accreditation as a theologian.

  In his book, apart from his own experiences, he describes in great detail the liturgical homoerotic aesthetic of Catholicism and the subliminal homosexuality of Benedict XVI. Revealing confidences unearthed by him as a gay theologian in the heart of the Vatican, he estimated the number of homosexuals in the Church at ‘over 50 per cent’.

  Towards the middle of his book, he goes further, talking about the erotic photographs and sexual scandal at the seminary of Sankt Pölten in Austria, which even implicated the entourage of the pope. Shortly afterwards, in a television interview on ZDF, David Berger denounced Benedict XVI’s sex life, referring to accounts he had heard from priests and theologians.

  This ‘outing’ operation provoked an intense scandal in Germany, but barely at all outside the German-speaking world (the book has not been translated into other languages). The reason may be the slenderness of the thesis.

  When I met him in Berlin, David Berger replied frankly to my questions, and gave me his mea culpa. We lunched together, in a Greek restaurant, which was somewhat ironic, given that he is often criticized for his anti-immigrant views.

  ‘I come from a left-wing, hippie-style family. I acknowledge that I had a lot of trouble admitting my homosexuality in my adolescence, and that there was a lot of tension between becoming a priest and becoming gay. I was a seminarian and fell in love with a boy. I was 19. More than thirty years later, I still live with him,’ Berger tells me.

  When he went to Rome, and mixed quite naturally with the gay networks in the Vatican, Berger began to live a double life, with his lover regularly visiting him.

  ‘The Church has always been a place where homosexuals felt safe. That’s the key. For a gay, the Church is “safe”.’

  In his book, which is filled with his Roman adventures, David Berger describes the homoerotic universe of the Vatican. And yet, when he accuses the pope and his secretary, this high-powered witness who toppled into gay militancy supplies no proof. In the end, he even had to apologize for going too far in the ZDF interview.

  ‘I have never disavowed my book, contrary to what people may have said. I just regretted stating on television that Benedict XVI was homosexual, when I had no proof. I apologized.’

  After our lunch, David Berger suggests that we go and have a coffee at his place, a few blocks away, in the heart of the historic gay district of Schöneberg. There he lives surrounded by books and paintings in a large Berlin apartment with a lovely classic fireplace. We pursue the conversation about the ‘Regensburg network’, which he discusses at length in his book under the name of the ‘Gänswein network’. According to him, Bishop Georg Gänswein, Cardinal Müller, the priest Wilhelm Imkamp and Princess Gloria von Thurn und Taxi belong to this same hard-right ‘network’.

  Strangely, David Berger shares several points in common with his detractors. Like them, he has moved towards some of the views of the German far right (AfD), as he acknowledges during our conversation, justifying himself with reference to two major problems in Europe: immigration and Islam.

  ‘David Berger lost a lot of credibility when he became close to the German far right and the ultra-nationalist AfD party. He also became obsessively anti-Muslim,’ the former German MP Volker Beck tells me when I meet him in Berlin.

  David Berger’s theory of Joseph Ratzinger and Georg’s active homosexuality is largely discredited today. We have to acknowledge that we know nothing about the particular relationship between Pope Benedict XVI and his private secretary. No one, even in the Vatican, has been able to establish the truth. It’s all speculation. Even though Georg goes to see the holy father twice a week when he ‘wakes up’ (the pope has siestas), and lunches and dines with him tête-à-tête, this isn’t anything even close to proof.

  From a distance, the limits of the bromance appear vague; from close up, let’s suggest the most likely hypothesis: that of ‘loving friendship’ in the great tradition of the Middle Ages, chaste and purely beautiful. This idealization of Platonic love, this dream of a fusion of souls in chastity, corresponds to Ratzinger’s psychology. And perhaps he drew his passion and his bursts of energy from that ‘loving friendship’.

  If this hypothesis is true – and how can we know? – it may be that Ratzinger was more sincere than LGBT activists believed when they rebuked him so often for being ‘in the closet’. According to this view, Benedict XVI had no other ambition than to impose his own virtues on others and, faithful to his own vow of chastity, he was only asking homosexuals to do as he did. So, Ratzinger ‘would be a man to be hunted from the human race had he not shared and surpassed the rigours that he imposed on others’: these memorable words are Chateaubriand’s, referring to the Abbé de Rancé, but they are also perfectly applicable to Ratzinger.

  If the intimate life of Joseph Ratzinger is a mystery to us, contrary to what some people have claimed, the private life of Georg is much less so. I have interviewed priests who he lived with at Sancta Martha, an assistant who worked with him, and contacts who knew him in Spain, Germany and Switzerland. All of these sources describe with yearning a very agreeable priest, ‘sinuously handsome’, always very nicely turned out, an ‘obviously irresistible creature’, but sometimes ‘crazy’, ‘volatile’ and ‘capricious’; no one has a bad word to say about him, but I’m told that in his youth, this young blond liked to enjoy wild nights and, like all priests, spent evenings among other young men.

  One thing is certain: Gänswein was interested in the double lives of cardinals, bishops and priests. Always secretive, this ‘control freak’ was said, according to several sources, to ask for information about gay prelates. In the Vatican closet, everyone keeps an eye on everyone else – and homosexuality is at the heart of many intrigues.

  This handsome young man also regularly travelled, to avoid the constraints of the Vatican, to visit other parishes and to forge new friendships. Very handsome, he likes to surround himself with men, rather than feed rumours – which are numerous but unfounded – about his relationships with women.

  ‘He’s very conniving,’ a priest I interviewed in Switzerland tells me. ‘He’s very affable,’ I am told by a priest I meet in Madrid. He has ‘worldly’ associations, a third tells me, in Berlin. Less of a courtier now, more courted, given his prestigious titles, he enjoys advantageous associations in which his narcissism can only be of benefit.

  Despite rumours and gossip, Pope Benedict XVI never got rid of his favourite: on the contrary, he promoted him. After the VatiLeaks scandal, in which Georg was both a victim, and at the same time partly responsible (if only by virtue of trusting the mole responsible for the leaks), the pontiff renewed his trust in him, appointing him both Director of the Pontifical Palace (essentially, head of protocol) and making him an archbishop. The official act took place on Epiphany, 6 January 2013 – a month before the startling resignation of the holy father – and we can date the unofficial end of the pontificate from that extravagant gesture.

  ‘Benedict XVI was daring!’ The phrase comes from a Curia priest who was stunned by the event he had witnessed, ‘t
he finest in his life’. No other modern pope had had the audacity to hold such a coronation mass, such an extravagant gesture, such an act of folly for his handsome protégé. On the day of Georg Gänswein’s consecration as archbishop, Benedict XVI presided over one of the most beautiful liturgical celebrations of all time. (Five people who were present described the scene to me, including two cardinals, and the ceremony – lasting almost three hours – can be seen on YouTube. I also managed to get hold of the original libretto of the mass, and its musical score, which is 106 pages long! Details of the ceremony were related to me at length by dazzled Vaticanologists. Archbishop Piero Marini, the master of ceremonies to Pope John Paul II and Benedict XVI, and Pierre Blanchard, who was for a long time the director of APSA – two men, then, very familiar with the unshakeable protocol of the Vatican – explained its solemn rules to me as well.)

  Below Michelangelo’s magnificent tower and the gilded stucco baroque pillars of Bernini’s baldacchino, the pope consecrated Georg in St Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Stubborn, with the legendary hostinato rigore (‘obstinate rigour’ is the motto of Leonardo da Vinci), the pope did not try to conceal what he was doing, as so many cardinals do when they promote their protégés; he went completely public with it. That’s what I’ve always admired about him.

  Benedict XVI insisted on giving the pastoral ring to his Bavarian excellency Georg Gänswein in person, in a Fellini-esque ceremony engraved forever on the memory of the 450 statues, 500 columns and 50 altars of the basilica. First comes the procession, slow, superb, and choreographed to perfection; the pope with his huge topaz-yellow mitre, standing in a little indoor popemobile, a throne on wheels, travels like a giant the full 200-metre length of the nave to the sound of triumphant brass, beautiful organ sounds and the children’s choir of St Peter’s, straight as unlit candles. The chalices are encrusted with precious stones; the censers smoke. In the front rows of this new style of episcopal organization, dozens of cardinals and hundreds of bishops and priests in their finest robes provide a palette of red, white and ox-blood. There are flowers everywhere, as if at a wedding.

  Then the ceremony proper begins. Flanked by secretary of state Tarcisio Bertone and the incorrigible Cardinal Zenon Grocholewski, co-consecrators, the pope, twinkling with pride and contentment, speaks in a voice that is faint but still beautiful. In front of him, where the nave and the transept meet, four prelates, including Georg, lie with their bellies to the ground, as tradition decrees. In a flash, a ceremonial priest rearranges Georg’s robe when he doesn’t do himself up properly. The pope, motionless and imperturbable on his throne, concentrates on his great work, his ‘sacred aromas’ and his flame. Above his head, a host of cherubs looks admiringly at the scene, while even Bernini’s kneeling angels are stirred with emotion. It is the coronation of Charlemagne! It is Hadrian moving heaven and earth, building cities and mausolea to pay tribute to Antinous! And Hadrian even makes a whole audience of Roman dignitaries, cardinals, ambassadors, several politicians and former ministers, and even the prime minister Mario Monti, become a blur of genuflections.

  Suddenly the pope takes Georg’s head in his hands: the emotion has reached its peak. Georg gives a Leonardo smile before plunging his hair into the pontifical hands, the cameras freeze, the cardinals – I recognize Angelo Sodano, Raymond Burke and Robert Sarah in the pictures – hold their breath; the chubby cherubs holding the fonts are open-mouthed. ‘Time is out of joint.’ Between the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus and Benedictus, the music is lovely in St Peter’s, calculated down to the last diapason by several ‘liturgy queens’. The pope spends a long time (19 seconds) stroking the salt-and-pepper curls of his George Clooney, with infinite delicacy along with infinite prudence. But ‘the body doesn’t lie’, as the great choreographer Martha Graham used to put it.

  The pope was, of course, informed about the rumours that are going around, and about the name of the lover attributed to him. Wicked? Uranist? He laughs. And makes things worse! What panache! What glamour! Ratzinger had the grandeur of Oscar Wilde who, when warned of the danger he ran in associating with young Bosie, appeared in public with him more often; or of a Verlaine, whose family insistently asked him to get rid of the young Rimbaud, but who went off to live with him instead – actions that cost both Oscar Wilde and Verlaine two years in prison respectively. ‘The insults of men / What do they matter? / Well, our heart alone / Knows what we are.’

  In his way, Joseph Ratzinger remained loyal to his singleton, in spite of the frantic warnings of the Curia. This high mass was a magnificent statement. And that day, he was radiant. His restrained smile was a marvel. Having drained the chalice to the dregs, he was not afraid of taking another drink from it. He is handsome. He is proud. Magnetized by his own daring, he has won. Seeing him again in the video, so superbly dramatic, I have never loved him as much as I do at that moment.

  Georg had been consecrated as an archbishop by the holy father, and no one yet knew that Benedict XVI had taken the most spectacular decision that a pope has ever taken: he would announce his resignation shortly afterwards. Was Georg already aware of it? It’s probable, but not definite. Whatever the case, for the pope, the coronation mass dedicated that day to ‘Ciorcio’ would be his historical testament.

  For now, the carnival continues. The mass is endless, so much so that the pope will be over twenty minutes late for the angelus, and will have to apologize to the impatient crowd in St Peter’s Square.

  ‘It was a celebratory liturgy! A spectacle! A mistake! The liturgy cannot be a spectacle,’ says an outraged Piero Marini, former master of ceremonies to John Paul II and Benedict XVI, during our interview.

  More generous, one of his successors, Mgr Vincenzo Peroni, master of liturgy to Pope Francis, who also contributed at the time to the preparation of the mass, explains to me when we have a one-on-one dinner together: ‘Such a ceremony illustrated the beauty that reveals the face and the glory of God: nothing is beautiful enough for God.’

  At the end, amid sustained applause – which is rare – and the flashes of the photographers, I can make out Bach’s Art of Fugue, played by a chamber orchestra in the upper floors of the basilica, and one of the favourite ‘music for the eyes’ of Joseph Ratzinger. To the sustained rhythm and rigour of Bach, the huge cortège sets off back down the nave, framed by the multicoloured Swiss Guard and the black-suited bodyguards.

  An extravaganza! When it passes in front of the Pietà, one of the most beautiful sculptures in the world, it is not unthinkable that Michelangelo’s statue is dumbstruck by the departed procession.

  Just as unusually, the church wedding was followed by a wedding at the town hall. After the mass, over two hundred guests were invited to take part in a prestigious reception in the big Paul VI Audience Hall, Finally, in the evening, a more intimate gala dinner organized in the Vatican museums by the audacious pope, who would take part in person, surrounded for the occasion by Leonard da Vinci, Michelangelo, Caravaggio and Il Sodoma.

  Pope Francis confirmed the dual function of the great chamberlain Georg Gänswein, after the resignation of Benedict XVI and his own election. An unusual situation, and an unusual title: Georg is now both personal secretary to the retired pope and prefect of the pontifical house of the acting pope.

  This double hat has the advantage of allowing daring comparisons. How many times have I heard a phrase attributed to Georg Gänswein, that he works ‘for an active pope and a passive pope’? It was immediately picked up in newspaper offices and syndicated! Gay militants still delight in it! I found the phrase in question in the original speech, and the version handed down is sadly apocryphal. During a talk in 2016, Georg briefly compared the two popes and said: ‘Since the election of Francis, there are not two popes but, in fact, an expanded ministry with an active member and a contemplative member [un membro attivo e un membro contemplativo]. That’s why Benedict XVI has not given up his name or his white cassock.’ Inevitably, the phrase was removed from its context, travestied on lots of gay
websites and repeated endlessly by dozens of bloggers. Even though Georg never actually mentioned an ‘active pope’ and a ‘passive pope’!

  Between the two holy fathers, Georg is a link, a messenger. He was one of the first to be informed by Benedict XVI of his plan to resign. Georg is said to have replied: ‘No, holy father, it’s not possible.’ When Benedict finally did step down, in 2013, Georg was seen with the pope flying by helicopter to Castel Gandolfo, an image mocked as suggesting that the pope was ascending into the heavens while he was still alive! Georg then moved with the pontiff and his two felines into the monastery of Mater Ecclesiae, behind a guarded gate and high grilles – unlike any other building inside the Vatican.

  I am told that Francis appreciates the intelligence of Georg, who is more than just a handsome face. He is a man of great culture, very Teutonic, and so different from the Hispanic culture of the pope that he opens up new perspectives to him. A profile of Gänswein published by Vanity Fair quoted the man who wanted to be Benedict XVI’s éminence grise expressing the wish ‘that people don’t stop at his looks but go beyond to what lies under his cassock’.

  Ecce Homo. While we’re looking at the personality of Benedict XVI, let’s look also at a hypothesis that I shall borrow in part from Freud’s subtle and reckless analysis of Leonardo da Vinci’s homosexuality. I’m not a psychoanalyst, but I’m surprised, like many others, by the fact that homosexuality was one of the cardinal questions, if I may put it like that, of Joseph Ratzinger’s life and thought. He’s one of the theologians who have studied this matter in depth. In a way, the gay question lends substance to his life, and that makes him very interesting.