The Pope's Powerful No. 2

When Pope Paul VI sits down at breakfast, the newspaper clippings and reports in front of him have been prepared and organized by Archbishop Giovanni Benelli. When there is a sudden crisis in the Roman Catholic Church, the man who rushes to the papal chambers with the message is Archbishop Benelli. When a cardinal prefect of a curial congregation wishes to see the Pope, his appointment is arranged--or postponed--by the same Benelli. And when President Richard Nixon helicoptered into St. Peter's Square two weeks ago, who was there to greet him officially but Giovanni Benelli.

At 47, Archbishop Benelli is easily the most visible personage in the Vatican today and, next to the Pope, the most powerful. Technically, he is only the Vatican's Deputy Secretary of State, but the force of circumstances and the good will of Pope Paul have thrust him into such prominence that Benelli is, in effect, the Pope's Prime Minister. His role originated in Paul's sweeping reform of the Curia 18 months ago, when the Vatican Secretary of State was awarded, ex officio, special responsibilities in the Roman Curia, the church's administrative body. In theory, these duties were entrusted to Secretary of State Amleto Cardinal Cicognani, who at the age of 86 can only put in half a day's work. In practice, the job has fallen to Cicognani's sostituto, or deputy, Giovanni Benelli.

Man of Action. Benelli has been close to the present Pope since 1948, when Giovanni Battista Montini was serving as Deputy Secretary of State for Pius XII. Just five years after his ordination, Benelli was appointed to the Vatican diplomatic service as secretary to Montini, who quickly spotted him as a man of action and talent. Later Benelli served as a Vatican diplomat in Dublin, Paris, Rio de Janeiro, Madrid and Senegal. He was named to his present post in 1967.

Since then, Benelli has set about forming what Vatican observers are calling the "first real Montini government." Brisk and forceful, he has streamlined Curia procedures and organized his own corps of energetic subordinates. He works unusually long hours for Rome, and even lives next door to his office. He has, says one Vatican official, "acquired or deliberately taken into his own hands almost every decision made by the Secretariate these days." Understandably, Benelli is careful to couch many decisions in the voice of his boss. His suave letters will often read "The Holy Father thinks," or "According to the Pope."

Tuscan, and Ruthless. Because he insists that curial officials with greater seniority and prestige channel business through him, Benelli has already earned the nickname "the Berlin Wall." He has also, inevitably, bruised many clerical feelings. "Benelli is a Tuscan," said one Vatican critic. "He has inherited traditional Tuscan pigheadedness. He is ruthless." Not everyone is intimidated. Not knowing that the Pope had asked Archbishop Michael Gonzi of Malta, then 82, to stay on in office, Benelli sent word asking the prelate to vacate his see within two weeks. Gonzi stormed to Rome. "You've been a bishop two years," he said indignantly when Benelli finally received him. "I've been a bishop for 44 years, and you want to throw me out in two weeks!" Gonzi is still Archbishop of Malta.

Such rare setbacks do not slow Benelli's frenetic pace. Somehow he even finds time to promote a favorite cause: helping to wipe out illiteracy in underdeveloped nations by upgrading the educational programs of Catholic missions. Last week he flew off to the Ivory Coast to dedicate a new seminary in Abidjan. The trip was expected to take him to other African countries on still another act of service for Paul VI: exploring a possible papal visit to that continent later this year.

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