I have read any
number of times that the "Jesuits were expelled
from Naples in 1773" and have even referred to that
episode in some of the items I write. It recently
occurred to me that I knew nothing about the affair. So,
with apologies to any Jesuit historians who may be
reading this…(please don't hunt me down to "correct"
me).
Jesuits are, properly termed, members of "The Society of Jesus"; the name "Jesuit" was apparently coined by the Protestant, Calvin, although it is commonly used even today by Roman Catholics. The Society was founded by a Spanish soldier, Ignatius of Loyola in 1539. He originally called his order "The Company of Jesus," an indicator, no doubt, of the militant, aggressive spirit that imbued the organization. Although the Company was not founded expressly to combat Protestantism (Martin Luther put his 95 Theses up on the castle church door in Wittenberg in 1517), it was in the forefront of the movement of Catholic revival commonly called the "Counter-Reformation," the official origins of which were at the Council of Trent in 1545. The Jesuits were (and are) extremely active in missionary activity throughout the world and are known, as well, for their charitable work and emphasis on education.
From the very beginning, the order of Jesuits was marked by a supranational sense of mission. Their ultimate religious allegiance was, of course, to the Pope, but they also swore allegiance to the head of their order, the General, an office that became so strong in the course of the centuries that its holder was often termed —unofficially, of course— "The Black Pope". That kind of situation breeds a sense of, at least, semi-autonomy, guaranteed not to sit well with an earthly monarch.
In a way, obedience
to God before King made some sense in the Middle Ages,
especially the early Middle Ages, before there were
European nation states. There certainly was a time when
you were, first of all, a Christian before you were
Spanish or French or German. Yet, by the 1500s, and
certainly the 1600s, that sense of overarching obedience
to the princes of the Church over the princes of the Earth
was an anachronism and was one of the factors that
contributed to the conflict between the Jesuits and the
rulers of Europe, a conflict that led to the eventual
suppression of the order.
By the mid-1700s, Jesuit activities in the mission field, in commerce, trade and banking (in order to have money for their missions) —behind-the-scene intrigues (according to their critics)— had created such ill feeling between them and, primarily, the Bourbon monarchs of Europe (France, Naples, Spain) that there was wholesale call from those nations to the Pope to abolish the order.
Some nations
didn't wait. Portugal took the matter into its own hands
in 1760 and kicked the Jesuits out of the country.
France did the same in 1762. Spain expelled the
Jesuits in 1767, marching 6000 of them to the coast and
expelling them to the Papal States. It is clear that the
general spirit of the times also had something to do
with all this. The Humanism of the French Enlightenment
was bound to be on a collision course with a dogmatic
religious order. France and the Kingdom of Naples were
home to many influential philosophers who were natural
enemies of such soldiers of the faith as the Jesuits.
Clement XIII, a friend of the Jesuits,
was elected Pope in 1758. When he died in February 1769,
a conclave to elect his successor assembled in Rome.
Those charged with electing the new Pope were beset by a
powerful coalition of anti-Jesuits from Spain, France
and Naples whose single purpose was to get someone
elected who would abolish the Jesuit order.
Representatives from those nations were —at least, so
they said— prepared to wage economic, military, and even
religious war (that is, they threatened schism) against
the Papal States unless they got what they wanted. Such
intrigues are beyond me, but, interestingly, the choice
for Pope went to one who had been educated by the
Jesuits —Cardinal Ganganelli, who took the papal name of
Clement XIV (medallion, above).
The Pope was reluctant to suppress the Jesuits. He still had some political backing from the Hapsburgs in Austria, who, obviously, were against anything the Bourbons were for. That support faded when empress Maria-Theresa married off one of her children, Marie Antoinette, to the Bourbon king of France. Part of the agreement was that Hapsburg royalty stop defending the nefarious Jesuits.
In any case, the Pope caved
in to the anti-Jesuits and issued a decree of suppression,
the Dominus ac Redemptor, in June 1773. It wasn't
a particularly strong edict. The general line was that
orders had been abolished in the past and since the
presence of the Jesuits seemed to be such a source of
conflict, it was better for the peace of the church if the
society was abolished. The strongest language was
probably,
…the Society from its earliest days bore the germs of dissensions and jealousies which tore its own members asunder, led them to rise against other religious orders, against the secular clergy and the universities, nay even against the sovereigns who had received them in their states… |
Although some
regimes in northern and eastern Europe refused to
implement the ban, elsewhere the results were immediate.
In Naples, Jesuit property was seized, and their
churches closed. (In some cases, they were given to
other orders (the Church of San
Ferdinando, for example), and the Jesuit brothers
themselves were expelled from the Kingdom. Similar to
the Spanish experience, Neapolitan Jesuits were marched
north to the border with the Papal States and expelled
under threat of death if they returned.
A
common thread in the expulsion of the Jesuits in
Spain and then Naples is that Charles
III of Bourbon was the King of Spain when the
Jesuits were forced to leave that nation, and his son,
Ferdinand IV was the king of Naples when the same thing
happened there. (Charles, of course, had ruled Naples
before abdicating to return to Spain.) Influential in
the lives of both monarchs was Bernardo
Tanucci (portrait, right), the astute Foreign
Minister under Charles III and then the regent of
Charles' child-king son. Tanucci was one of the prime
movers among anti-Jesuits in Naples. His influence faded
after that, and he was edged out of the picture by
Ferdinand's ambitious wife, Caroline.