The Vatican Scandals: The Devil’s Archbishop — The Crimes of Paul Marcinkus
Known As “The Gorilla,” Corruption and Criminality Once Went Right to the Top of the Vatican
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The priest who succumbs to corruption and vice has long been a trope of fiction. Serving functions including warnings against sin or satire against the church, these stock characters have been around ever since the medieval age. However, these characters are far from limited to the realm of fiction, with real-world examples being prominent throughout the history of organized religion. From the child sex scandals that have so shamed the church to well-documented links to organized crime, some within the clergy certainly don’t practice what they preach.
In the 20th century, chief amongst this criminal clergy is undoubtedly Archbishop Paul Marcinkus. Linked to crimes ranging from fraud to murder, Marcinkus controlled the purse strings at the Vatican Bank. Though this money came great power, Marcinkus seemingly forgetting the lesson about the root of all evil. Following the scandals created under his watch, at least three would lay dead, a girl would be missing, and one of those murdered may very well have been the pope.
Marcinkus was born in Cicero, Illinois, in 1914 and was born poor. His father had fled Lithuania to avoid conscription into the Russian army and was forced to work several manual labor jobs following his arrival in the United States. He worked variously at a steel mill and a farm before finding more regular work as a window cleaner.
Paul was the fourth son and related to the infamous Charles “Lucky” Luciano, one of the most prominent figures in the history of organized crime in America. Such thoughts seem to have been far from the young Marcinkus’ mind, however, and he entered the priesthood. He attended Archbishop Quigley Preparatory Seminary before being ordained in 1947, working in Chicago’s South Side.
Peppered with factories and mills, South Side Chicago was working class and had a reputation for crime. Irish street gangs were prominent for many years, and it certainly would have been far from an easy posting. The area had a high concentration of immigrant families, and following the Great Migration, it was increasingly becoming a center for black Americans forced into low-quality housing as they migrated into Chicago searching for work. Marcinkus’ work seemed to win him notice, however, and by 1950 he was carrying out special assignments for the Vatican.
During these years, Marcinkus would make a fortunate friend in Cardinal Giovanni Battista Montini, the man who would become Pope Paul VI. Marcinkus would earn a degree in canon law and follow it with a two-year program for diplomats, subsequently being posted to Bolivia and then Canada. Returning to Rome toward the end of the 1960s, Marcinkus would act as a translator for Pope John XXIII before his stock began to rise again when his friend Paul VI ascended to the papacy. Not only would he continue his translation services, but he was now tasked with arranging overseas trips and even serving as a bodyguard to His Holiness, being noted for his immense and imposing physical presence. While he was officially a bodyguard, many have claimed his position moved closer toward being an enforcer. He soon earned himself the nickname of “The Gorilla.”
In 1969, Marcinkus was consecrated as Titular Archbishop of Horta and appointed as Secretary of the Administrative Section at the Institute for Works of Religion, commonly known as the Vatican Bank. Just two years later, in 1971, he was made president. It was an astonishing rise in fortunes, yet not surprising had anyone known of the links that Marcinkus held close to his chest.
Just the year prior, in 1968, the Italian state had removed the Vatican’s tax-exempt status and forced the church to diversify its holdings. To this end, they had employed a financial advisor, Michele Sindona. Sindona was one of Italy’s most prominent businessmen and had extensive links to the Gambino crime family, managing their drug-running enterprises’ profits. Sindona had used the wealth generated from the Gambino deals to buy his banks and open doors into the Italian establishment, being another friend of Cardinal Montini before he became pope. The mafia’s money was laundered through these banks, including now the Vatican.
Despite being expressly forbidden by Catholic doctrine, Sindona was a member of Propaganda Due (P2), a Masonic Lodge reestablished in 1966 by Licio Gelli. Outlawed by the fascist Benito Mussolini, Freemasonry had been reborn following the war with American encouragement, the movement being turned into a fervently anti-communist underground. Gelli was a financier and former supporter of Mussolini. By 1970, he was implicated in plans to overthrow the Italian state in a coup d’etat and had developed extensive links in Latin America, particularly amongst the far-right junta in Argentina.
This trinity of Pope Paul VI, Paul Marcinkus, and Michele Sindona would soon be joined by a fourth name, Roberto Calvi, who, like Sindona, was a member of Propaganda Due. In 1971, Calvi was the general manager of the Banco Ambrosiano bank, and by 1975 he had become chairman. Banco Ambrosiano was known as the “priests’ bank” and had been founded as a counterbalance to Italy’s secular banks, intending to serve honestly and piously.
Paul Marcinkus and the Vatican Bank’s activities were known outside the Vatican as early as 1973 when U.S. federal prosecutor William Aronwald and Bill Lynch of the DOJ questioned him in his offices at the Holy See. Marcinkus’ name had arisen out of investigations into a $14.5 million counterfeit bonds scheme, the fraudulent bonds being delivered to the Vatican Bank in 1971 when Marcinkus became president. The $14.5 million had been part of a request for $950 million. However, the Archbishop was protected, and American officials decided privately that charges couldn’t be pursued.
The decision not to investigate Marcinkus further came from the top of the chain. It should be noted that Michele Sindona had extensive links within the Nixon administration, having taken control of New York’s Franklin National Bank in 1972. Beyond these links at the highest level, P2 was incredibly useful to the CIA. By the end of the 1970s, Banco Ambrosiano and the Vatican Bank were central to U.S. foreign policy interests in Latin America. The CIA funneled money to the Vatican and then onto Banco Ambrosiano, destined to fight communism across the continent. Much of this money ended up in Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza’s hands and, after 1979, the Contras, then fighting a brutal dirty war against the Marxist Sandinistas. Without the cooperation of Marcinkus, the CIA’s entire Nicaragua policy was at risk. Other money was destined for Poland and the Solidarity trade union movement, with Cardinal Karol Wojtyła instrumental in securing the funding. Wojtyła would soon become Pope John Paul II.
In 2022, it is perhaps hard to comprehend the world of just 50 years ago. The ideological tensions between communism and capitalism brought chaos to many parts of the world and not only those in Asia, Latin America, or Africa. Terrorist attacks by the likes of the Red Army Faction in Germany and the Red Brigades in Italy brought violence directly to the capitals of Europe. Indeed, Italy was central to this battle, with Marxist and fascist groups regularly committing atrocities across the country. This political and social unrest frequently reached near states of anarchy in what became known as the “Years of Lead.”
These years’ peak was undoubtedly the 1978 kidnapping and execution of Prime Minister Aldo Moro by the Red Brigades. The Italian mixed government system contains an element of proportional representation, meaning that the country is near-universally forced into coalitions between differing parties. Minority parties can find themselves wielding extensive power as backing out of agreements would cause the government to fall. At several points in recent history, this balance of power has been held by communist and fascist factions. During the 1970s, the so-called “Historic Compromise” between the Christian Democracy Party and the Italian Communist Party was one such attempted alliance. Between 1946 and 1976, the number of seats won by the communists in Italy had increased at each election. The number of votes received by the party had similarly increased each time since 1953. There were real fears amongst the Western powers that Italy could soon see the Communist Party in sole control. Moro was open to forming a government with the communists, this being utterly unacceptable to the United States.
On the day of the kidnapping, Propaganda Due members had met at the Hotel Excelsior in Rome, just a few hundred feet from the U.S. embassy, and allegations have been made that P2, in conjunction with the CIA and Vatican, had a hand in the kidnapping. The Red Brigades had long been infiltrated by both American intelligence and Mossad, and there is some belief that they had been used as a front to hide the true group behind the affair. Moro’s widow, Eleonora Chiavarelli, would later state that he had been warned off by American politicians and would point the finger directly at Henry Kissinger for his killing.
During the imprisonment of Aldo Moro, the journalist Carmine Pecorelli made a name covering the case. He was considered a maverick and somebody who had extensive secret service contacts. Pecorelli was another member of Propaganda Due and hinted in his writing that a “superpower” was behind the incident. The motive was the “logic of Yalta,” that meaning anti-communism. He linked the killing to Operation Gladio, NATO’s underground anti-communist organization that was meant to be activated in the event of a Soviet invasion of Europe. Pecorelli would be assassinated in 1979 while investigating Archbishop Paul Marcinkus. The Banda della Magliana criminal group and Licio Gelli of P2 were investigated by authorities.
Marcinkus’ power had only increased over the year prior to the Pecorelli killing meanwhile. On August 6, 1978, Pope Paul VI died and was soon replaced on August 26 by Pope John Paul I. The new pope received a mixed welcome at the Vatican, being seen as a compromise candidate between liberal and conservative factions. Meanwhile, there were worries from Opus Dei and the United States alike that the new pope might be favorable to the Jesuit position in Latin America. While ardently anti-communist, John Paul had made social justice a top priority, being particularly disturbed by many American backed juntas in the region.
With Aldo Moro’s death just three months prior, the heat was turned up on Propaganda Due and those involved with corruption at the Vatican Bank. Marcinkus and Calvi would undoubtedly have been worried, particularly when the new pope began suggesting that the clergy should live more frugal lives and started to talk about reforming the Vatican’s finances.
The Bank of Italy had already produced a report that year on Banco Ambrosiano, which had uncovered the illegal exportation of cash and claimed that the bank was in danger of collapsing. A criminal case centering on money laundering was opened. However, the investigation was halted after the magistrate was conveniently killed by a “left-wing” terror group, just like Moro. The official at the Bank of Italy who was overseeing the investigation found himself imprisoned on trumped-up charges and was later released when it was found there was no case to answer. However, with investigators sniffing around, there were already too many people who knew about Propaganda Due and what was going on with Banco Ambrosiano and The Institute for the Works of Religion. The pope on the case would be the last thing anyone needed.
Thirty-Three days after his reign began, Pope John Paul I officially died of a heart attack in bed. From the outset, the official Vatican story was suspect, with a nun by the name of Sister Vincenza Taffarel telling the press she’d found him dead in the bathroom. The story changed that same day, and officials stated he’d been in bed and discovered by his secretaries. Many years later, it would switch once again to a final version that said he had been in bed but found by Sister Vincenza. While there has never been any hard evidence that the Pope was murdered, some have claimed that he was, in fact, poisoned after he became aware that prominent figures at the Vatican were involved in the Vatican Bank conspiracies with Propaganda Due.
When Pope John Paul II became pontiff, one of his first tasks was to promote Marcinkus, and any fears that the new pope might not play ball were seemingly ended. By 1981, Marcinkus had been appointed Pro-President of Vatican City, officially making him the second most powerful man in the enclave. Privately, most people knew he was the real power behind the Papal throne.
That was until the Vatican house of cards came tumbling down, police raiding P2’s offices and arresting both Licio Gelli and Roberto Calvi. A list composed by Gelli revealed the existence of Propaganda Due and exposed who the members were. It was extensive and contained a staggering 962 names, including Calvi, Pecorelli, Sindona, and Marcinkus. The smoking gun that linked everything had been found. Calvi was sentenced to four years in prison but was allowed out pending an appeal, managing to retain his position as chairman of Banco Ambrosiano. By 1982 it was discovered that the bank was unable to account for $1.287 billion. Banco Ambrosiano collapsed, and Roberto Calvi fled.
The links between Banco Ambrosiano, the Vatican, Calvi, and Marcinkus were now front-page news worldwide, with lurid accusations of ties to the mafia creating a sensation. The crisis at the Holy See would only grow on June 17 when Calvi’s secretary threw herself from the window of his now-former office at Banco Ambrosiano, leaving a note denouncing him. This would merely be a prelude of what was to come.
On June 18, 1982, Roberto Calvi’s body was found hanging beneath London’s Blackfriars Bridge. The suicide of a man ruined, and in disgrace, it was claimed. However, Propaganda Due called themselves the frati neri or “black friars,” and it was quite a coincidence he should be found in this particular location. While an initial coroner’s inquest returned a verdict of suicide in July, a second the following year returned an open verdict. In 1991, relatives of Calvi commissioned a new investigation by the U.S. based Kroll Associates. The company found that Calvi could not have committed suicide with physical evidence proving he could never have made it to the location his body was found. Equally, bricks found in his pockets that were believed to have been utilized as weights had never been touched by Calvi. In September of 2003, police in London reopened the case as a homicide. Italian prosecutors believed that Licio Gelli, P2, the Banda della Magliana, and the Sicilian Mafia were all involved in a revenge killing for the loss of money after Banco Ambrosiano’s collapse. Other motivations included ensuring that Calvi wouldn’t talk.
Marcinkus would resign from his position at the Vatican Bank not long after the Roberto Calvi affair, the entire Vatican being granted immunity by the Italian government. However, Calvi wouldn’t be the last victim of the Banco Ambrosiano collapse that Marcinkus has been accused of having a hand in silencing.
In June 1983, fifteen-year-old Emanuela Orlandi went missing at the Vatican. Her father was an employee at the Vatican Bank, and no trace of the girl has ever been found. In 2011, a former member of the Banda della Maglianaalleged that she had been kidnapped by the mafia to force the Vatican to pay out money after Banco Ambrosiano’s collapse. However, others close to the Banda della Magliana tell a different story. The former girlfriend of godfather Enrico De Pedis has alleged that it was, in fact, Marcinkus who ordered the kidnapping to send a message to the employee. Others have suggested the message was intended for the pope and other Vatican officials. Investigators were said to be skeptical but impressed by the claims, showing information that would likely only be known to somebody genuine.
Paul Marcinkus finally resigned his position in 1990 and was sent back to Chicago. He retired to Arizona, where he lived as an assistant parish priest. It was quite a comedown for a man who had once probably wielded more power than the pontiff himself. He refused to ever discuss his role in the Vatican scandals and died in 2006.
The truth behind the crimes of Paul Marcinkus is likely never to be fully known, nor his level of involvement in them. While others such as Licio Gelli are likely to have played a more significant role, none had the same level of influence that Marcinkus did. As the controller of the purse strings, Marcinkus was the real power at the Vatican for many years, and he undoubtedly knew enough secrets to bring down individuals across the globe.
Long corrupted by money, Marcinkus was instrumental in opening the doors of the Holy See to fraudsters, killers, and all manner of other deviants condemned by the God he claimed to represent. Whether he genuinely could square this hypocrisy in his own mind, or even truly believed in his faith, is a matter of conjecture. Had he somehow managed to retain his beliefs, then we can only wonder if his final years were filled with repentance and fears of eternal condemnation. This will be little comfort for the families of those killed who were denied any earthly justice while he was still alive by a web of corruption that still exists to this very day.
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