Interview published in Télérama on February 12, 2009 —
A brilliant but dogmatic theologian, often poorly advised, Benedict XVI is reaching out to fundamentalists – including Bishop Williamson, who has just made Holocaust denial statements – and the entire Catholic community is shaken. Frédéric Lenoir, director of “Le Monde des Religions,” discusses this major unease with us
It's a fortnight that many within the Catholic Church would have preferred to avoid. Two weeks during which we first saw Benedict XVI lift – unconditionally – the excommunication of a sectarian and schismatic Christian community that included among its members a bishop who was a Holocaust denier and proud of it. The uproar from bishops in France and Germany, the protests of Catholic faithful and intellectuals, and the demands for clarification from Angela Merkel: the noise, not to say the fury, finally reached the thick walls of the Vatican. The Vatican, through its Secretariat of State, finally imposed two essential prerequisites on the conspirators of the Society of Saint Pius X (1) for their reintegration: "Full recognition of the Second Vatican Council" (which symbolizes the Church's openness to the modern world) and Bishop Williamson's recantation of his statements on the Holocaust. Submitting to it would obviously mean resigning, for the children of Archbishop Lefebvre. At the time of publication, this decision is therefore uncertain. In the meantime, the damage is done.
A look back, with Frédéric Lenoir, director of Le Monde des religions and author of Christ the Philosopher, at two chaotic and not always Catholic weeks.
Why is Benedict XVI now imposing conditions that he initially refused to impose?
The Pope, after the fact and under pressure, imposed the conditions he should have set before signing the decree. The convergence of Bishop Williamson's Holocaust denial remarks on January 21st and the lifting of the excommunication on the 24th proved disastrous—far more so than he had imagined. He may have briefly believed that only progressive voices would speak out within the Church, only to discover that Catholics—particularly in France—were deeply shocked. Ultimately, he found himself facing a serious crisis within the Church.
But why weren't these conditions imposed from the start?
There are two reasons for this. Everyone knows that since Vatican II, Benedict XVI has expressed doubts about certain aspects of the implementation of that council, without, however, repudiating it: he believes that the Church has lost its sense of liturgy and has become too open to the world. By reintegrating the traditionalists—a priority of his pontificate—he was betting that once the excommunication was lifted, he could influence them from within. The fundamentalists, for their part, were undoubtedly betting the opposite: once in the Church, they fully expected to influence the Pope. Instead of bringing back the lost sheep, Benedict XVI thus took the risk of letting the wolf into the sheepfold.
And the second reason?
The Secretariat of State claims that Benedict XVI was unaware, when he signed his decree, that Bishop Williamson had made Holocaust denial statements. This is possible, since the Pope signed the decree three days before its publication, on January 21st. But he had plenty of time to change his mind between signing and publication! He could very well have said: "In light of Bishop Williamson's recent statements, I am suspending my decision and awaiting his retraction." What worries me is not the obvious bureaucratic inefficiency plaguing the Vatican, but that these statements about the Holocaust did not appear more serious to Benedict XVI!
The Pope is not suspected of anti-Semitism…
Indeed, and this explains why the juxtaposition of the lifting of the excommunication and Bishop Williamson's remarks seemed so abrupt. Imagine if a French bishop had made Holocaust denial statements a month ago. We would have expected Benedict XVI to immediately suspend him from his duties. Yet here is an excommunicated bishop making the same statements, and two days later, the Pope… officially reinstates him!
What exactly does the lifting of excommunications mean?
The excommunication was pronounced in 1988 by John Paul II when Archbishop Lefebvre ordained bishops without the Vatican's approval. It simply meant that Archbishop Lefebvre had placed himself outside the Church. The decree of January 21, 2009, lifted the disciplinary measure but did not imply that the traditionalists fully adhered to the Catholic Church established by Vatican II. To avoid this ambiguity, Benedict XVI should have demanded from the outset a full and complete acceptance of Vatican II and the famous decree on religious freedom, which considers that individuals are free to choose their religion according to their conscience—or not to choose one—and affirms that there is truth in each religion, thus opening the door to interreligious dialogue.
A dialogue to which Archbishop Lefebvre was firmly opposed…
The schism dates back to 1988, but the final straw was the Interreligious Meeting for Peace in Assisi in 1986, during which John Paul II prayed with the leaders of the major religions. The Dalai Lama holding the Pope's hand was an image intolerable to Archbishop Lefebvre. But it can hardly be said that interreligious dialogue was among Benedict XVI's priorities either. One of his first actions was to ask the Franciscans of Assisi to cease their meetings…
The timing of the papal decree and Bishop Williamson's remarks is described as a "tragic ambiguity" by the Catholic intellectuals who signed the appeal published in La Vie. this "historical" ambiguity in the Church's view of Jews been resolved by John Paul II's acts of repentance?
Indeed, the Church no longer has any problem with Judaism. The missal promoted by Paul VI in 1970 removed the references to the "perfidious people" found in the missal of Pius V, and the vast majority of Catholics today consider themselves very close to Jews. Fundamentalists, on the other hand, had no qualms about using this old text just three weeks ago. They will now have to do without it…
Fundamentalism was founded by a Frenchman – Archbishop Lefebvre – and half of its followers live in France. How can this French peculiarity be explained?
We must go back to the Revolution. It championed freedom of conscience and the separation of politics and religion, which Rome, at the time, rejected outright. Gradually, a rift emerged between a majority of the faithful who rallied to the Republic (and accepted the principles of the Revolution) and a minority who remained close to the Vatican… as long as it refused to embrace modernity. But Vatican II—and the Pope's recognition of human rights and freedom of conscience—shattered this relationship with the "intransigents," hence the schism: on one side, fundamentalism, which sacralizes the pre-revolutionary period and freezes it in nostalgia for "Christendom"; on the other, an open Rome. This distinction remains sensitive in the Church in France, where, alongside a largely liberal clergy (vigilant against the fundamentalist temptation), a community of faithful attached to "eternal and Catholic France" continues to exist, often monarchist, sometimes Le Pen-supporting.
Is Holocaust denial prevalent in these fundamentalist circles?
For them, things are clear: the Jewish people must convert. There is no salvation outside the Church; those who do not convert reject God and the truth, and are therefore in error. And in falsehood. This leads back to the idea of the treacherous Jew… It is obviously easier to lean towards Holocaust denial when one has such a negative view of the Jewish people. Meanwhile, “traditional” Catholics, who tend to be right-leaning, are among the groups least likely to vote for Le Pen: their dialogue with Judaism is, moreover, very rich, and parishes include numerous Judeo-Christian associations.
After the Regensburg speech affair in September 2006, in which Benedict XVI distinguished between Christianity and Islam on the links between faith and violence, does this mess not reveal certain dysfunctions in the governance and communication of the Vatican?
This confirms what we've sensed since the beginning of his pontificate: that Benedict XVI is a man of dogma, certainly not a diplomat. The Pope lacks political skill, is poorly advised, and surrounded by the wrong people. It's hard to understand, for example, why this reinstatement wasn't handled in greater consultation with the French bishops.
Is the Vatican out of touch with the world?
A comparison with the pontificate of John Paul II helps explain many of its missteps. For Benedict XVI, the Church's timescale is not the same as the media's. The former operates on a long timescale—a decision can be criticized today, but its truth will be recognized later. As for the latter, he disdains it. Yet, the Vatican expends a colossal amount of energy trying to correct its mistakes, issuing statements about "what the Pope really meant," etc. This communication problem is undoubtedly linked to Benedict XVI's solitude. The Pope eats his meals alone, whereas John Paul II shared them with five or ten people. But it must also be remembered that while John Paul II, like Benedict XVI, was a man of conviction rooted in his beliefs, he had to contend with communism. He was therefore well-versed in politics. Whereas Benedict XVI is a dogmatic theologian, detached from the world. The first was able to understand non-believers and followers of other religions without losing his own identity. The second retained his predecessor's sense of tradition without his open-mindedness. We are seeing the consequences of this today.
If the goal is truly to bring together the extended family of the Church, why not make a gesture towards those who have been marginalized for years – Eugen Drewermann or Hans Küng, who are trying to reconcile the doctrine of the Catholic Church with new knowledge and the evolution of society?
Clearly, Benedict XVI feels closer to traditionalist bishops than to Küng and Drewermann. Or to put it another way: his natural inclination leads him more to the right than to the left. This is all the more unsettling for French Catholics, given their liberal views on religious matters. Many Catholics don't understand why the Pope extends a hand to traditionalists without making a gesture for divorced and remarried Catholics (who still don't have the right to receive communion, even though many of them are devout Catholics), why he continues to condemn the use of the pill and marginalize liberation theologians.
What do you think of the intensity of their reactions?
It is reassuring to see that French Catholics know how to stand out on certain fundamental issues. From the grassroots to the top of the hierarchy, including Catholic intellectuals, they have said: no, we do not agree, and thus confirmed their deep attachment both to the developments of the Second Vatican Council and to their freedom of conscience.
The French bishops, too, reacted unequivocally to Williamson's remarks, without, however, challenging the Pope's authority. One sometimes gets the feeling that schizophrenia is lurking…
The motu proprio issued a few months ago by the Vatican, authorizing the Mass of Saint Pius V, had not pleased the French bishops. But they had accepted it as a sign of openness and diversity within the Church. This time they are very uneasy, torn between their loyalty to the Pope—genuine, even if I think Benedict XVI wasn't exactly their preferred candidate—and their outrage at what has happened. Never before has an affair put the French Church at such a disadvantage with the Vatican.
Interview by Olivier Pascal-Moussellard,
Télérama, February 12, 2009, No. 3083
(1) Founded on November 1, 1970 by Archbishop Lefebvre, this society of Catholic priests has set itself the objective of "orienting and realizing the life of the priest towards what is essentially his reason for being: the holy sacrifice of the Mass," while "carefully avoiding modern errors." It has approximately 500 priests and 150,000 faithful worldwide.
Read "The Philosopher Christ", published by Plon, 306 pages, €19.