Iconography rich as leaders meet
By JOHN L. ALLEN JR.
NCR Staff Castel Gandolfo, Italy
When a pope meets a U.S. president, something more is in the air
than usually attends meetings of world leaders. More than political titans,
these are embodiments of two mythic institutions. The White House symbolizes
earthly power; the Vatican centuries-long spiritual tradition.
That clash of cultures was on display when President George W.
Bush came to call on Pope John Paul II July 23 at Castel Gandolfo, the
popes summer residence in the Alban Hills above Rome.
The iconography of power was evident at Bushs arrival. A
fleet of vehicles flown over by the White House included two stretch Cadillac
limousines, two Chevy Blazers, a van that served as a control
vehicle, and the presidential car itself -- armor-plated, with at least
three layers of bulletproof window glass, small turrets in the doors and five
radio antennae atop the trunk. Its motor sounded like a small jet engine.
A blue-uniformed Air Force officer carried the presidents
nuclear football -- a black bag with a transmitter and launch codes enabling
Bush to order a nuclear assault from wherever he happens to be.
Meanwhile, in the inner courtyard, the Vaticans trademark
passion for anachronism was on parade. A column of 18 Swiss Guards in the
yellow and blue uniforms designed by Michelangelo periodically brought their
halberds and pikes to attention as various ecclesiastical dignitaries passed.
(Their heel-clicking was especially energetic for Cardinal Angelo Sodano, the
Vaticans secretary of state).
The focal point of the papal retinue were, as usual, the
charmingly purposeless Gentlemen of His Holiness. Visiting
dignitaries to the pope are always greeted by these scions of noble Roman
families, who before a 1968 reform were known as the Chamberlains of the
Sword and Cape.
The presence of these 11 men is a typically illogical flourish of
Vatican etiquette, given that the Gentlemen of His Holiness today
have no assignment except to seat VIPs at papal events. It would be a bit like
having the ushers at the Kennedy Center say hello to Vladimir Putin or Jiang
Zemin. Normally imperturbable, the 11 passed the time before Bushs
arrival by adjusting their cummerbunds and polishing their papal medallions,
then were startled as Bush greeted them by grasping their elbows in a Texan
gesture of amiability.
Laura Bush, the Bushes daughter Barbara, and key foreign
policy adviser Condoleeza Rice wore the black dresses and head scarves
(mantillas) that women are supposed to don for papal audiences. Yet the
partys command of Vatican protocol nevertheless proved a bit spotty. In
direct address, the pope is always Your Holiness or Holy
Father. Bush, however, fell back on a typically American expression of
polite respect: sir.
Following the predictable high-level handshake, the popping of
flashbulbs, the exchange went like this:
Pope: You were at the Roman Forum yesterday.
Bush: Yes sir, it was so beautiful. And this place is
beautiful.
Pope: Popes come here in the summer.
President: Yes sir, I understand that, and I can see
why.
As at any meeting of leaders, though, each had business to
conduct: a policy agenda, a set of political disiderata.
Bush, of course, has strong political motives for wanting to be on
the popes good side. No administration in recent American history has
made such a point of openly soliciting Catholic support. Bush has met with
scores of Catholic bishops, archbishops and cardinals, and on March 22 he
opened the new John Paul II Cultural Center in Washington. In Rome he squeezed
in a brief afternoon visit to the U.S. Embassy to the Holy See, where he met
American cardinals Edmund Szoka and James Stafford.
In many ways, the interest is mutual. Vatican personnel tend to
see Bush in a more favorable light than his predecessor, Bill Clinton, with
whom they fought bitter battles over abortion and population control in
international forums.
One senior Vatican official said, off the record, that he thinks
Bush has more affinity in his ideas with the Catholic church. Yet,
he cautioned, personal rapport only goes so far. I think hes more
sympathetic than the other guy, but right now its a question of
business, he said.
In a separate session with Bush after his meeting with the pope,
Sodano and Archbishop Jean-Louis Tauran, the Vaticans foreign minister,
appealed for help on two points of business: China and Saudi Arabia. Both are
countries where the Vatican has long complained about restrictions on religious
freedom. The Vatican official said Sodano and Tauran hope Bush will use his
influence to convince those governments to relax their policies.
In a gesture of support for Bush, Sodano let it be known that Bush
handled these topics and others, including the Middle East and Africa, without
referring to his aides.
John Paul offered a standard catalogue of exhortations: combat
poverty, be open to immigrants, cancel debt, promote religious freedom. He also
warned of a coarsening of conscience on right-to-life issues such
as euthanasia and abortion.
The pope made a direct reference to stem-cell research, urging
Bush to reject proposals for the creation for research purposes of human
embryos.
Bush confined himself to praising John Pauls role in
encouraging people to stand, unafraid, before tyrants. He displayed
a familiarity with Catholic argot by saying John Paul reflects the
splendor of truth, a reference to a 1993 papal encyclical, and by
thanking John Paul for promoting a culture of life.
Afterward, as Bush walked from his final handshake with Sodano to
his rolling fortress of a limo, reporters had a brief opportunity to shout
questions. Bush stayed silent, until NCR offered this probing query:
Mr. President, how was your meeting?
As he ducked in the car, Bush responded: Very
good.
Not the most stirring exit line ever spoken, but given the warm
tenor of the encounter, it seemed at least to have the virtue of sincerity.
The e-mail address for John L. Allen Jr. is
jallen@natcath.org.
National Catholic Reporter, August 10,
2001
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