These weeks are a time of elections — the Canadian and Australian this week, and the Papal election some time in May. The elections differ in their procedures but share a reliance on the ballot and an emphasis on the character and convictions of the person who will lead the nation. At a time when democratic processes are under pressure, it is worth reflecting on the growing focus on the personality of leaders.
The Australian and Canadian elections are democratic in that almost all citizens are entitled to vote for their representatives, and the value of their votes is equalised by adjusting the size of electorates. The election follows a period of campaigning by candidates for seats. The leader of the political party that can command the most seats in its own right or through alliance with other parties then forms government. Theoretically, elections are about parties and their policies, but in practice they increasingly focus on the quality of the leaders — most notably in Canada.
For many centuries, the Pope as Bishop of Rome has been chosen through an election by the Cardinals — advisers to the previous Pope, and themselves all bishops. The people have no say in the election. Catholics believe that the Holy Spirit is active in the appointment. That led the journalist Claud Cockburn to joke that it would be inconceivable for Catholics, who were popularly thought to wager on anything that moved, to bet on the result of the Papal election.
Among the Cardinals there is certainly no public campaigning. Nor are there political parties, though groups of Cardinals may differ on the direction in which the Pope should lead the Church, and so on who should lead it. They — along with national leaders and wealthy Catholics — may try to influence the result of the election. These conversations, as well as broader speculation, naturally focus on the quality and philosophy of possible Popes.
While reflecting on the growing emphasis on the personality of candidates for leading nations and the Church, I revisited the section of the Jesuit Constitutions that deals with the election of the Superior General. This document, which bears the stamp of St Ignatius, is not the most obvious place to seek insights into other elections. I certainly neither expect nor want another Jesuit Pope: our calling is to be at the disposal of Popes, not to become them. Nor do the Constitutions envisage a diverse nation or Church. They concern the appointment of the leader of a relatively small group of Catholic religious, bound to one another by vows, close relationships and a shared mission. In political terms, too, the Jesuits are anything but democratic in their structures. Although the Superior General is responsible to the General Congregation — the law-making body of the Society, chosen by delegates from each region — in his administration he has complete authority and may, in theory, appoint any Jesuit to any position anywhere.
That said, Jesuit governance works only when sharing of information and personal conversation informs relationships at every level. That is why the qualities of the Superior General — and indeed of superiors at all levels — are of vital importance in the Society, and perhaps of wider relevance. They set leadership within the context of human relationships, as well as those of power.
In the Jesuit Constitutions, the focus on relationships is evident in the reasons given for appointing the Superior General for life rather than for a fixed term. The argument was that his experience of governance, his intimate knowledge of individual Jesuits throughout the Society, and the respect in which he is held are best expressed in a lifetime commitment.
'People today are right to focus on the qualities of those who seek high office. Their character and personal qualities matter.'
Supporting reasons for a lifetime appointment included avoiding the disruption and cost of frequent gatherings of scattered Jesuits. More significantly, it would reduce the incitements to ambition and plotting — a feature of the political culture at the time, and decried by Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises. Anyone politicking to become Superior General was to be excluded from voting and from being voted for in that or any future election. Almost as an aside, the Constitutions also argued that life terms were supported by the wisdom of the time and were the common practice in governance of state and church.
The Constitutions go on to describe the qualities that electors should seek in the Superior General. The most important have to do with relationships — above all, that with God in prayer. His relationships with others are also ideally warm and simple. He should be self-controlled and composed, able to balance sympathy for his fellow Jesuits with insisting on what God’s service demands of them. His largeness of spirit and courage will be necessary to withstand opposition and the inevitable failures of some enterprises. He should also have gifts of understanding and judgment based on discernment and experience, be ready to initiate projects and to complete them, and possess the required physical energy. Such fringe benefits as a background of wealth and nobility would also be welcome.
Having sketched this ideal image of the Superior General as a person of recognised virtue, the Constitutions go on to say that if he lacks some of these qualities, he should at a minimum be honest, love the Society, and have good judgment and theological understanding.
These reflections on the character of the Jesuit Superior General may have wider relevance. They suggest, first, that people today are right to focus on the qualities of those who seek high office. Their character and personal qualities matter — as we are learning from the United States.
Second, the Jesuit document emphasises the importance of relationships. If we focus on the personality of people in office, we necessarily see them through their relationships with us. We expect them to be interested in what we want and to engage with us. We also claim them as our representatives.
Third, the focus on the personal qualities of candidates for office leads us to ask what philosophy of life drives them to seek office. This may be religious faith, a strong humanism, a vision of a better world, or naked self-interest. It is personal: a belief in, not just a belief that. It will shape the way they meet the challenges they face in office.
Fourth, the Jesuit Constitutions remind us that none of our representatives will be perfect or govern perfectly. They will live in a complex and imperfect world, and their own lives will reflect that complexity and imperfection. They will make mistakes. But we can reasonably expect that they possess a humane compass and sound judgment.
Finally, the world of shared belief and values assumed in the Jesuit Constitutions points to the challenge facing democratic governments today, where there is no shared view of human flourishing, virtue, or the good society. The focus on character in recent elections is encouraging because it brings these large questions back onto the public agenda.
Andrew Hamilton is consulting editor of Eureka Street, and writer at Jesuit Social Services.