Secret Archives of the Vatican
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You would think that the Vatican's Secret Archives would be some
dumb conspiracy theory. I mean, it sounds ridiculous. The Vatican's
Secret Archives. Let it roll off your tongue. Surely, we're into
serious conspiracy weirdness here.
Except, of course, that there really is such a thing. And it's
pretty much exactly what you think it is.
There are a lot of reasons for an organization like the Catholic
Church to have Secret Archives. After all, they've been in the conspiracy
business for millennia longer than Majestic-12. They've been in
the disinformation business for about 18 times as long as Donald
Rumsfeld has been alive. They were taking secret vows when the Masons
were just a bunch of architects. And they have more to hide that
Richard M. Nixon on his worst day.
The Catholic Church first officially started keeping a library
around the fourth century. Formed at the height of the first great
heresy craze, the contents of this library included a lot of attacks
on heretical branches of Christianity and the documents and scriptures
used by these heretical branches (which the Church fathers admitted
to having read).
The entire contents of the pre-eighth century archives, presumably
including all these fascinating heresies, mysteriously disappeared,
according to the Vatican's official account of the library's history,
"for reasons not entirely known."
The library was strictly closed to the public until around the
15th century, when the church decided to open its contents for the
masses. OK, not all of the contents. Starting in the fourth century,
the Catholic Church, in a position of political power for the first
time, had been ruthlessly suppressing what it saw as heresy:
"Theodosius is said to be the first (Roman emperor) who pronounced
heresy a capital crime; this law was passed in 382 against the Encratites,
the Saccophori, the Hydroparastatae, and the Manichaeans. Heretical
teachers were forbidden to propagate their doctrines publicly or
privately; to hold public disputations; to ordain bishops, presbyters,
or any other clergy; to hold religious meetings; to build conventicles
or to avail themselves of money bequeathed to them for that purpose.
Slaves were allowed to inform against their heretical masters and
to purchase their freedom by coming over to the Church. The children
of heretical parents were denied their patrimony and inheritance
unless they returned to the Catholic Church. The books of heretics
were ordered to be burned."
Well, most of the books. After all, you would have to be pretty
stupid to destroy valuable intelligence on your most hated enemies
(read the Catholic Encyclopedia's entry on heresy for a sense of
the magnitude of enmity we're talking about here). Around the time
the library first opened to the public, Pope Paul IV issued the
"index of prohibited books." Reading, possessing or distributing
these books had a spiritual penalty of excommunication (i.e., condemnation
to hell without appeal), and in Catholic countries, they often had
civil penalties as well (of varying severity, depending on the nature
of the books).
Ironically, the pope issued an order later that same year mitigating
the penalties regarding violations of the Index's non-reading list,
but the order was conveniently "lost" until 1909. Whoops!
Guess they should've invented the Dewey decimal system while they
were opening the library. This minor paperwork snafu justified 400
years of suppression and censorship, and when the modification of
the order was discovered, it was ignored in favor of 400 years precedent,
until the church finally lightened the order (slightly) in 1966.
While all this sounds pretty revolting to the American mindset,
the church officially condones censorship even today: "Censorship
of books is a supervision of the press in order to prevent any abuse
of it. In this sense, every lawful authority, whose duty it is to
protect its subjects from the ravages of a pernicious press, has
the right of exercising censorship of books."
Starting in the third century, the Church had expressly ordered
the destruction of heretical books, but their contents were clearly
referenced by the main heresy-hunters of the day, such as Irenaeus,
a Father of the Church who wrote extensively about the fallacies
of heresy. His texts explicitly admit he had read some of the source
materials, as well as showing a great familiarity with the various
beliefs of the many different heretic sects in existence at the
time. The church's official history of the archives confirms it
contained such materials as a resource for those designated to fight
against heresy.
Thus, the existence of a secret archive became inevitable for an
organization obsessed with information control. Whatever form this
archive took, it indisputably dates back to the fourth century at
the latest. According to the Vatican, the early secret archive contained
mainly the names of believers and wealthy patrons of the church,
but as noted above, it almost assuredly contained copies of heretical
and banned works, information deemed too "dangerous" for
the public.
As the centuries wore on, the list of banned and dangerous books
grew and grew, thanks to repeated expansions of the enemies list
and aggressive attempts to snuff out the list's members. The Inquisitions
rounded up hundreds of books on topics ranging from Protestantism
to Witchcraft and ritual magic, to the libraries of groups like
the Knights Templar and the Cathars.
The latter groups might have had some particularly explosive additions
for the library. Modern Conspiracy theorists have speculated that
the Templars and the Cathars could have been protecting secrets
like the possibility that Jesus Christ didn't die on the cross as
advertised, and that there might be hard evidence to support that
claim, not to mention descendents of the allegedly sexless messiah.
Pope Pius IV is credited with first officially designating the
existence of something which would formally be called the "Secret
Archive." The actual building was completed early in the 17th
century and remained an ironclad fortress of forbidden information
until the end of the 19th century, when it was purportedly opened
to select scholars.
A heavily edited index of the Archives contents was published,
and a large set of rules were developed regarding who got access
to what. An even more secret archive known as the "Apostolic
Penitentiary" exists, containing papal documents and canon
law, and a lot of other stuff which is super-classified. Absolutely
no one is allowed access.
As the 20th century dawned, the increasingly free flow of information
around the world (and the decreasing political power of the Catholic
Church) made it more and more difficult for the Vatican to effectively
control what people were reading.
Archaeological discoveries of ancient Gnostic texts spilled the
beans on the original heretics, and a vast surge of interest in
all things magical and occult just made things worse. It's difficult
to justify banning access to the rituals of witchcraft, just for
instance, when every major bookseller in American carries three
or four flavors of "Teen Witch Spell Kits."
Another predictable problem arose when the Vatican admitted the
secret archives existed. People very naturally began guessing what
might be in there, sometimes very accurately.
Among the more recent good guesses were the contents of the Third
Secret of Fatima, an allegedly devastating prophecy of doom delivered
by the Virgin Mary in a series of appearances to illiterate peasant
children which was allegedly revealed by the Church in 2000. Under
intense pressure, the Church released a series of 20th century documents
from the secret archives relating to papal complicity in the rise
of the Nazis in Germany.
In addition to Nazi collaboration, the archives are generally thought
to contain rather a lot of information about the Catholic Church's
wrongdoings, such as the current scandal on priestly pedophilia.
In fact, the archives contain miles of allegations concerning the
sexual kinks and other vices enjoyed by priests and bishops, dating
back to at least the 14th century, and possibly even earlier.
Realizing the danger of such disclosures, the Vatican structured
access to the archives to allow a minimum of accidental disclosures
and a maximum of secrecy. The most obvious way to do this is also
the most effective. It's strictly prohibited to go browsing the
shelves in the Vatican's secret archives. It's unclear whether even
the archive's librarians are allowed to do so.
Scholars wishing to review information in the archives have to
arrive at the gate knowing exactly what documents they want, which
is a pretty crappy way to encourage scholarship but a great way
to make sure no one stumbles onto the Explicit Erotic Diaries of
Jesus and Mary. Scholars also have to present their research requests
in writing in advance, allowing the librarians ample time to decide
between their three options in responding — 1) bring out the
requested document, 2) claim the document doesn't exist, or 3) admit
the document exists but refuse to give the scholar access.
So if you were hoping poke around the archives looking for evidence
that Jesus was an extraterrestrial, just forget it. You have a better
chance of getting a guided tour of Area 51 than getting a glimpse
of the Sacred Alien Rectal Probing Device.
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