The Pope?s visit to Britain in 1982 was one of his most successful. But right up to the last moment, it was doubtful whether it could go ahead, and there was conflict between Cardinal Hume and Archbishop Worlock. In the second extract from his forthcoming book, The Worlock Archive, Clifford Longley tells the inside story. AND so the Catholic Church in England and Wales travelled towards the ultimate Catholic happening ? a personal visit by the Pope. It was a great upheaval, requiring many clergy to leave aside their familiar tasks and undertake entirely new and strange ones. Canon lawyers became temporary business managers, seminary lecturers became press officers, hospital chaplains police liaison workers. One group had to negotiate with car companies for the manufacture of a right-hand-drive popemobile; another to strike deals with insurance companies; another to supervise the growing trade in official souvenirs of the papal visit and extract the appropriate rake-off for the Church. Amateurs though they were, they turned out to be very good at all this.

Preparations went ahead for a series of papal visits to London, Wales, Scotland and the English regions, each event to be a major celebration of the Catholic faith likely to be attended by tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people. The Catholic Church is not established by law in Britain, and enjoys no large holdings of property, neither estates nor investments. Its assets are its people and physical plant, mainly schools and churches, and though as prime sites many of these would have been immensely valuable on the open market, they were all in use. Thus the Church had to borrow from the banks ? the total budget was more than ?6 million in 1982 values ? and raise the money to pay for the visit afterwards, partly from church collections, partly from royalties on branded goods (which quickly became a minor industry). For an institution which traditionally lived hand to mouth, usually more interested in its overdraft limit than its cash in hand, there was a lot at stake.

It was decided, and the Vatican concurred, to make the theme of the visit the seven sacraments of the Church. Thus on one occasion the Pope would baptise an infant and preach on the sacrament of baptism; on another occasion he would anoint the sick and preach on that; and so on round the country and round the sacraments. Not only was the theme idea acceptable to Rome but, exceptionally, papal advisers agreed to allow very substantial British input in the briefing of the Pope and the preparation of his addresses. This enabled some careful downplaying of one or more of the most sensitive matters. It was widely felt among English Catholic leaders, for instance, that if the Pope went round the country berating the population for the looseness of its sexual morals, especially in the use of contraception, the visit would rapidly turn into a public relations disaster which English Catholics would have to live with for a long time to come.

Worlock reported in one of his recollections of the papal visit that when the rather delicate matter of briefing the Pope was raised, I moved that the matter be left with the Cardinal and subsequently he got a team of three or four together under George Leonard. Apart from Leonard, Hume?s group preparing draft texts for the Pope consisted mainly of Vincent Nichols, Alan Clark and James Hook (Leonard?s deputy), working under the Cardinal?s supervision. Worlock was asked to prepare a couple of drafts himself. One of them began: My brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ; thank you for your welcome. Thank you for coming here to greet me. In turn I greet you: peace be with you. Peace be in your homes. Peace be in this great city of Liverpool. I am glad to be here. I am glad to pay my first visit to this region of England and to this city of which you are so proud. . . . It was a brilliant pastiche of the papal style.

The major threat to the event came from an entirely unexpected direction: the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands in the South Atlantic. A British naval and military taskforce was rapidly assembled, in total more than 100 ships and including two aircraft carriers. It set sail at the beginning of April to try to reverse the invasion 8,000 miles away.

Cancellation of the papal visit was obviously an option from the start, but not necessarily the easy way out. In certain right-wing circles in Latin America, the invasion of the islands they called the Malvinas was being hailed as the correction of a historical injustice committed by a Protestant nation against a Catholic one. If the Pope was seen to cancel his visit because Britain was exercising its rights in international law and the UN Charter of defending its territory from invasion, would that be seen as a neutral and fair thing to do, or as an expression of Catholic bias? The thought occurred in the Vatican itself, and it suggested caution; the thought also occurred in Britain, and it suggested leverage. The idea had to be fostered that cancellation would be treated as a hostile act ? the British public would not understand . . . etc, etc.

There had to be a strategy for saving the visit, but who was to be in charge of it? Cardinal Hume thought he was; but Derek Worlock thought he was. This misunderstanding became acute as the weeks went on.

As the military expedition to the South Atlantic progressed ? the arrival off the coast of the Falkland Islands of British sea power, the duels with aircraft, the first landings, the losses of warships on both sides ? the visit seemed less and less likely to go ahead. Hume expressed his own doubts at a press conference, to Worlock?s consternation: would the Pope not be seen to be favouring one side against the other, if he visited it under such conditions? As the date got nearer, however, the Catholic Church in Britain was incurring ever higher financial liabilities. Insurance would have covered the first ?1.5 million, but costs were mounting rapidly towards the ?6 million which had been the overall budget. Each new day with no cancellation raised the stakes; contractors were starting work, bills were having to be paid, hundreds of coaches booked; everything from temporary lavatories to emergency lighting to first aid to helicopter landing pads had to be settled according to a strict schedule of dates. To Worlock, having to pay for a papal visit that never happened would have seemed like the ultimate catastrophe. He had the connections and the guile, all the diplomatic skills required, to bring about a near impossibility. To Hume, however, it was just one of those things; the visit would surely take place another time. What worried him, it seems, was that Worlock was doing deals to save the visit at all costs, when there were other, higher, issues at stake, and principles that ought not to be compromised.

WORLOCK often assumed for himself an air of infallibility. When he supposes that Hume?s mood is the product of his stubbornness, lack of imagination, or failure to acknowledge the brilliance of Worlock?s arrangements, he is ignoring the more likely explanation ? that his own manner was provocative. He seemed to have no respect for Hume?s misgivings; nothing that he reported himself as saying or doing was designed to offer Hume the reassurance he needed. At one point he calls him a imperialist hawk; at another, a warmonger. That was a serious miscalculation. When the St Paul?s Falklands service was being planned after the conflict, Hume threatened to pull out because he found the tone of what was being proposed too militaristic and triumphalist. It was he who insisted on prayers being said for Argentine casualties.

Worlock had gone to Rome to use whatever influence he had to devise some sort of package deal that would have allowed the papal visit to go ahead, despite the approaching military climax in the South Atlantic. He noticed that some Vatican officials ? Latins, he called them ? were not over-impressed with British policy. He returned to Britain to report back.

Basil Hume was waiting at the airport when we flew in and for a long time could talk of nothing else but an article which he had in The Times that day which he described as a bit ?hawkish ? not a bad thing when the Church is being shown on television as Argentine bishops blessing their forces etc?. I had not seen The Times that day. When I did I had grave misgivings about what had appeared under his name. It was pure ?George Leonard?, trying to apply the well-worn just-war principles to the present situation and of course in clear support of Britain?s position and the measures taken. It certainly attempted to justify the use of military force to regain possession of the islands. It produced an indelible picture of GBH as an imperialist hawk. GBH was very tense when we met, convinced that everyone in the airport both recognised him and had read that day?s Times. . . .

The source of Worlock?s irritation was more that the tone of Hume?s article would offend the doveish circle advising the Pope, some of whom had made plain their feeling that Britain was over-reacting to the Argentine invasion, than because he was convinced that the use of armed force was not justified. This was precisely what Hume feared ? that Worlock had no feeling for the principles at stake. Wherever I went, said Worlock later, I picked up the report that the Times article had for ever branded GBH as a warmonger in the eyes of the Latin Americans. THE uncertainty over the visit grew, until eventually a stalemate ensued. Desperate to do something, Worlock decided to invite himself back to Rome, this time in the company of the Archbishop of Glasgow, Thomas Winning. The Pope set up a round-table discussion for them the following day, and at extremely short notice summoned Archbishop L?pez Trujillo, president of the Conference of Latin American Bishops, who had been attending a meeting in the United States. Over lunch and afterwards, the Pope, L?pez Trujillo, Worlock, Winning, Casaroli and one or two others gradually fashioned out a package of proposals, at the heart of which ? proposed by himself, Worlock claimed ? was the holding of a Mass of Reconciliation in the Vatican, which would be celebrated by the Pope, the two cardinals from Argentina, Aramburu and Primatesta, and the two cardinals from Great Britain, Hume and Gray (Archbishop of Edinburgh). Included in the package was an offer by the Pope himself to visit Argentina at the earliest opportunity.

Meanwhile, knowing this was going on, Cardinal Hume had summoned a meeting of the Bishops? Conference for the same afternoon, and they were standing by to hear the outcome of the Pope?s meeting. Worlock felt triumphant. The package he had helped to assemble seemed to him more than adequate. All he had to do was to relay the good news to those anxiously awaiting his call in London, modestly accept their grateful thanks, and arrange for Cardinal Hume to join him for the Mass of Reconciliation a couple of days later.

Worlock returned to the English College where he had been staying. I found myself confronted with an angry telephone message from Westminster, he recalled, saying that it was already past their 3 o?clock limit, the bishops were waiting to disperse, would I please phone the Cardinal?s secretary at once.

I suppose I should have taken time to think about my case but when at last I got through I could only sort out in my mind what I regarded as the seven points which had been made at lunch. . . . I have to say that far from reflecting the enthusiastic hope I felt at a breakthrough, GBH expressed anger and horror. He had no wish to go to Rome, no wish to meet the Argies and these conditions would give grave offence in Britain. I tried to explain that these were not conditions but points for consideration if the planning of the visit was to continue. He said his reaction was against what was being proposed but he would put the points to the bishops and someone would phone back. . . .

I was desperate when at last George Leonard phoned back after 6 p.m. George stood back and GBH came on the phone in what I can only describe as a great fury. He felt cornered, he was being put in a false position, and George Leonard felt that the Foreign Office would regard the package as near treason.

Worlock rang Westminster again shortly before midnight, to see if anything had changed. It was worse than ever. My notes of that time say that he was in a raging temper. He said again that I had cornered him and put him in an impossible position whereby he was being forced to act publicly against his better judgement and in a way which would be gravely harmful to the Church in England. Moreover, he was convinced that my proposals had no real support from the bishops. I told him that if he informed me of that officially, I would return to England the following day, but I would have to tell the Holy Father that the new proposals had no support in England.

It was the Vatican Secretary of State, Cardinal Casaroli, who resolved the impasse. Worlock told him what was the problem. Casaroli replied: Please explain to your dear Cardinal Hume that the Holy Father has summoned the two Argentine cardinals to come to Rome at once. He has already called Archbishop L?pez Trujillo here. Cardinal Gray is already on his way. Moreover, out of respect for the difficulties, the Holy Father has requested you to invite Cardinal Hume?s co-operation. We are not asking him to come here to prove Britain?s case nor to negotiate a settlement. We ask his help in explaining to our Latin American brothers why the visit must go ahead. Please help us to help them to understand.

It was a masterpiece of diplomatic tact. Worlock conveyed the message; Hume thought some more; another small problem was removed (whether news of a British landing would automatically abort the papal visit ? the answer was no). Eventually he agreed to come. The Pope was informed.

The quarrel between Worlock and Hume faded away. When Hume and Leonard reached Rome they seemed elated. In spite of the disgraceful phone episodes earlier in the week, there was really no sign of embarrassment. What did Worlock expect?

The pitch of excitement was not quickly reduced, and the relationship between the two men had to be patched up. The major crisis was behind them, but there were many smaller crises ahead. The Pope was coming after all; there were a million things to see to. To have a successful papal visit in the middle of what was virtually a war was an amazing thing to see, but the Pope knocked the Falklands off the newspaper front pages for nearly a whole week. He did indeed visit Argentina; and though what he said to the bishops in private was never published, it was quite widely reported that he had ticked them off. Patriotism was good, he more or less told them, but it was not permitted to feed one?s own patriotism at the expense of another?s. So poking Britain in the eye in order to bolster the popularity of an ailing, corrupt and vicious military junta was not acceptable. Whether and to what extent this contributed to the downfall of the Galtieri regime shortly after the capture of the Falklands is impossible to say. It might be an exaggeration to say the Pope helped to undermine the regime?s moral authority, as it had no moral authority anyway. Relations between Hume and Worlock never became easy, but nor did they again become so raw. The papal visit was a success; the two men had to work hard together to make it so, and a great deal of the credit for this lay at Basil Hume?s door, as Worlock was on occasion to acknowledge. And after it was over the relationship between the two of them became once more a strength not a weakness in the affairs of the Catholic Church of England and Wales.

There was in any event a fundamental level of trust between the two. They could have done each other great damage, had they chosen to. They had to close ranks. Instead ? and it is tempting to see here the influence of the faith to which they were both deeply committed ? they did not let personality problems stand in the way of the aims they both shared. It was part and parcel of their faith to do so: they had learnt almost at their mother?s knee, so to speak, that anger was a sin, other people?s motives had always to be given the most charitable interpretation, spreading ill-will towards another person was wrong. In the secular sphere, after the crisis of the papal visit preparations, the prognosis for their relationship would not have been promising. By the grace of God, perhaps, they were able to keep it alive.

? The Worlock Archive by Clifford Longley will be published on 2 December by Geoffrey Chapman at ?19.99. Tablet bookshop price ?17.99 plus 99p postage (UK)

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