The Pope’s Soldiers: A Military History of the Modern Vatican (review)

Serious readers of church history are well aware of military episodes in its long chronicle, among the most dramatic being the subjection of central Italy by the fire-breathing Pope Julius II and the participation of papal galleys at Lepanto with the blessing of the saintly Pope Pius V. Less well known are the years during and after the French Revolution, when the defense of the pope’s temporal power required a military option. That story is no less fascinating.

Years ago, this was a book I had dreamed about writing. Fortunately, David Alvarez got there first and did a much better job than I would have done. His research was very extensive, as demonstrated by forty-five pages of helpful notes and bibliography. Although he brings his narrative up to the Swiss Guards of the present day, the heart of his story takes place between 1796 and 1870. During that period, there were six distinct military campaigns, culminating in the definitive loss of the Papal States and Italy’s unification. By that point, the Papal States had built, per capita, one of the largest armies in Europe and, judged by its performance, one of the best motivated.

The saga begins when France’s Revolutionary Republic invaded Italy, at the expense of what Alvarez calls the “worst army in Europe” (p. 1), a largely ceremonial force hampered by curial penny-pinching and skirmishing among careerists. From that very low point, there were serious attempts to build the pathetic militia into a credible force which might at least deter outside powers from invasion. By the pontificate of Pius IX, even the skeptics saw the need to field a reliable military. Optimistic cardinals who favored diplomacy learned the hard way that even the friendliest major powers were unwilling or unable to protect the Patrimony of Peter.

After a surprisingly brave performance in 1848, the army began active recruiting and training of native Italian troops, as well as numerous foreign volunteers. Potential adversaries learned that the old papal army, whose primary skill had once been the ability to run away, had now grown to include dedicated troops who were willing to sell their lives dearly for a cause in which they believed. The Castelfidardo campaign of 1860 was a tragic loss of an army not yet trained and equipped to carry out its task. But those defeated volunteers, including Irish and German recruits, showed a sort of courage not common in anyone’s army. The final chapters in the Risorgimento came in 1867, when Papal Zouaves mauled Giuseppe Garibaldi’s much larger force at Mentana, and the final defense of Rome in 1870. General Hermann Kanzler’s troops demonstrated that they were willing and able to continue resistance until the last, if Pius IX had wished it. Later chapters cover the evolution of a credible army into peacetime units of Gendarmes, Swiss, Palatine, and Noble Guards. Defending the autonomy of the Vatican during World War II was indeed a military issue, with very high stakes for Pius XII to retain his voice.

Many parts of this fine book read like an adventure novel. The author might have added more maps to support his fast-moving narrative, which includes many place names. But overall, the book will stand up as a beacon of the final and enthralling finale of the Papal States.