VATICAN CITY — On the eve of the conclave to elect the next pope, the world’s smallest country is engulfed in commotion.
Packs of pilgrims chant and sing as they carry large, wooden crosses on the uneven cobblestones toward St. Peter’s Basilica. Street vendors and polo shirt-wearing tourists haggle over 1 euro fridge magnets bearing the face of the late Pope Francis. Espresso machines hiss, taxi drivers honk and crowds swell under intermittent clouds strafing the Vatican — which this week feels like the center of the universe.
The real action will happen nearby under a hush of near silence and total secrecy.
On Wednesday, 133 cardinal electors from all over the world will gather under the god-breathed frescoes of the Sistine Chapel for the most clandestine of ballots. Barred from leaving and with zero contact with the outside world, they must vote — and vote, and perhaps vote again — until they select the next leader of the world’s 1.4 billion Catholics.
“We are in a very close, very deep, very rich and very responsible preparation,” Cardinal Luis José Rueda Aparicio, the archbishop of Bogota, Colombia, told NBC News during a chance meeting near the Vatican on Monday. “We are in need of prayer — much prayer — from all the people of God.”
The conclave is unique, straddling the ley lines of religion, geopolitics, pop-culture and media speculation. When the choice is made, white smoke will billow from the Apostolic Palace, and the next pope will emerge onto the balcony to greet his flock.
He will immediately become one of the most prominent voices in a world in turmoil: wars in Ukraine, the Middle East and Africa; right-wing populism stoking anti-migrant hostility in the United States and Europe; and Washington launching a trade war with the world.
In his own house, the new pope will grapple with the church’s budget deficit and fallout from its decadeslong sex abuse scandal, which Francis’ critics say he did too little to address.
Accordingly, there has been heated debate as to whether his successor should continue his progressive style — asking of same-sex couples, “Who am I to judge?” and proselytizing on immigration and climate change. Or if he — and it will be a he — should revert to the church’s more conservative, traditional origins.
Among those lobbying for that are many on the Catholic American right, such as former White House adviser Steve Bannon, who has been openly unhappy at Francis’ teachings and campaigning for a conservative correction. His former boss, President Donald Trump, has attracted criticism, too, for the posting of an AI image of himself as pope.
Less than three months ago, Francis accused the president of triggering a “major crisis” with his “program of mass deportations.”
Francis also tried to make the church more representative of its growing popularity in Africa, Asia and Latin America, a boom that has pulled Catholicism’s center of gravity away from Europe’s nosediving religiosity. He appointed 108 of the 133 cardinal electors. In total, 52 are from Europe, 23 each from Asia and Latin America, 17 from Africa, 14 from the U.S. and Canada and four from Oceania.
Many traditionalists feel the next pope should reflect the church's geographical roots, perhaps by electing the first Italian pope since 1978.
Either way, the cardinals “must elect a pope capable of having a vision of a global Catholicism and who knows how to act on this world panorama,” said Roberto Regoli, a priest and professor of contemporary church history at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. “The horizon is not only Rome, the West, but the whole world.”
Given the stakes, extreme measures have been taken to avoid eavesdropping, not just sweeping the Sistine Chapel for bugs but shuttering its windows to prevent scanners from detecting vibrations of the cardinals’ words on the panes.
The electors must not only give up their cellphones but are also encouraged to vote using disguised handwriting. They will stay in the H block-shaped St. Martha House, built in the 1990s. But these unglamorous, proletarian quarters will contrast with the day of pomp and high ceremony that follows.
At 10 a.m. (4 a.m. ET) Wednesday the cardinals will swap their small zucchettos, or skullcaps, for tall, white miters woven with damask fabric. And Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, dean of the college of cardinals, will then lead a Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica. In the afternoon, they will proceed from the Pauline Chapel into the Sistine Chapel, festooned with Michelangelo’s frescoes, singing the Litany of Saints prayer and the hymn “Veni Creator Spiritus,” as they did in 2013.
In a scene depicted in 2024’s Oscar-nominated “Conclave,” Cardinal Diego Giovanni Ravelli, master for papal liturgical celebrations, will announce “extra omnes” — “everyone out” in Latin. All those not involved in the ballot, including cardinals over the age of 80, must leave.
The first poll that afternoon is often a chance to sound out front-runners and give token votes to friends and respected colleagues. That can backfire; in 1334, Cardinal Jacques Fournier, not seen as a serious candidate, was accidentally elected Pope Benedict XII.
Then there are four votes daily, two in the morning and two in the afternoon. After the final morning and afternoon votes, ballots are burned in a specially installed furnace and mixed with a different compound of chemicals depending on the result: black smoke for no decision, white for a two-thirds majority and a new pope — “Habemus Papam!” ("We have a pope!").
While some conclaves have taken hours, in recent history they’ve lasted two to three days. Few foresee a repeat of the longest conclave, in 1268-71, in which the townsfolk became so exasperated with the deadlocked cardinals that they locked the doors, tore off the roof and fed the cardinals nothing but bread and water until they made a decision. Hence the term “conclave,” meaning “with key” — i.e., a lock-in.
This time, the favorite among bookmakers like Polymarket is Cardinal Pietro Parolin, 70, Francis’ secretary of state, who is seen as a centrist stabilizer. He is also top choice for the 60,000 players of Fantapapa, or Fantasy Pope, which mirrors sports-based draft games and allows people to select their top 11 likeliest pontiffs.
However, Parolin has faced significant criticism over a 2018 deal he engineered giving the Chinese Communist Party control over bishop appointments in exchange for greater freedom for worshipers.
Behind him is Cardinal Luis Antonio Gokim Tagle, 67, of the Philippines, often dubbed “the Asian Pope Francis” because he holds progressive views and champions the poor.
“We would be so happy if he was elected,” Ida Del Rosario, 72, of Manila, said of Tagle. She spoke to NBC News as she took selfies with her husband, Rody, 69, outside the Basilica during a 12-day trip to Europe. “He is very modern yet very holy — he is able to mix those two perspectives.”
Not everyone would be happy with those choices.
BishopAccountability.org, a Massachusetts-based church watchdog, said Friday of Parolin that “no church official in the world has played such a central role in keeping hidden information about sexual crimes within the Vatican.” And it accused Tagle of being “ineffective” at combating abuses in his native Philippines.
In a statement the same day, the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines said Tagle advocated for a church that “acts decisively to protect the vulnerable.” NBC News has requested comment from the Vatican.
Other contenders considered “papabile” include a conservative favorite, Péter Erdő, 72, of Hungary, and Cardinal Peter Turkson of Ghana, 76, who would be the first African pope in more than 1,500 years.
This can easily become an outsider’s game, with one local saying that “he who goes into the conclave a pope, comes out a cardinal.”
Whether front-runner or lesser-known, the red-cassocked cardinals are treated as rock stars and draw excited glances whenever spotted in the streets surrounding St. Peter’s.
“God bless and have a good day,” said Cardinal Frank Leo, archbishop of Toronto, who was approached by NBC News in Rome’s Borgo neighborhood, a warren of lanes and trattorias where these eminences, many of whom do not know one another, have been seen lunching in recent days.
“I really can’t say any more right now,” Leo said with a smile and a thumbs-up, leaving a group of young student-types open-mouthed when they realized who had just walked by.
The electors will pray for guidance, but the choice will ultimately rest with mortal men, Regoli, the professor and priest in Rome, said.
“There is often a spiritualization,” he said. “But this is an election like all the others in the world.”
