The Smoke of Succession: Ritual, Secrecy, and the Election of a New Pope

Following the death of Pope Francis, a carefully orchestrated sequence of religious and diplomatic events has commenced within the Vatican—events whose significance will reverberate not only through the Catholic Church but through the world’s corridors of power and popular attention. At the epicenter of this process lies the sacred and centuries-old rite of papal succession, culminating in the secretive and symbolically laden ritual known as the conclave.

The initial phase of mourning began with the transfer of Pope Francis’s body from the private chapel of the St. Marta residence to the monumental St. Peter’s Basilica, a Renaissance edifice capped by Michelangelo’s dome and towering over the vast square that bears its name. For several days, his open casket lay in state under the cavernous dome, accessible to thousands of mourners who queued to pay their final respects. The funeral was scheduled for Saturday morning, drawing dignitaries and heads of state from across the globe. Confirmed attendees included former U.S. President Donald Trump and his wife Melania, along with the presidents of France, Brazil, and Ukraine, among others—emphasizing the Pope’s role as both a spiritual leader and a geopolitical figure of immense influence.

Following the funeral, in an intentional deviation from ecclesiastical tradition, Pope Francis’s coffin is to be moved not to the papal tombs beneath the Vatican, but to the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore across the city of Rome. This choice is deeply emblematic of Francis’s papacy and personal ethos: a man who began his pontificate with a great emphasis on humility and who ended it with the same quiet resistance to grandeur. Unlike his predecessors who were buried in nested coffins—typically three, beginning with one made of cypress—Francis opted for a single, modest wooden and zinc casket, inscribed simply with Franciscus in Latin. The funeral rites themselves are intentionally pared down. He rejected elaborate vestments and eschewed ceremonial fanfare, much as he had done during his life, preferring black shoes over the traditional red, and living in the modest Santa Marta guesthouse rather than the lavish papal apartments.

This humility is not incidental but foundational. His choice of the name Francis—after St. Francis of Assisi—was a deliberate signal of a papacy centered on simplicity, service, and solidarity with the poor and marginalized. This ethos extended through his theological positions and administrative reforms, as well as the manner of his final repose.

Once the period of mourning—known as the novemdiales, or nine days of official remembrance—concludes, the Church enters its most secretive and consequential ritual: the conclave. Conducted in the Sistine Chapel beneath Michelangelo’s Last Judgment, the conclave isolates all eligible cardinal electors from the outside world in order to discern and elect the next pope. A total of 138 cardinals under the age of 80 are eligible to vote. They are sequestered behind closed doors, with all forms of external communication severed. No phones, no internet, no newspapers, no television—only prayer, deliberation, and the presumed guidance of the Holy Spirit remain within those walls.

The voting process itself follows strict canonical procedure. On the first day, a single vote is held. In the following days, the cardinals conduct four votes daily—two in the morning and two in the afternoon. In the initial phase, a two-thirds majority is required to elect the new pontiff. However, should the conclave remain inconclusive after 15 days, the threshold shifts to a simple majority: 50 percent plus one vote. After each vote, the ballots are burned in a specially prepared stove, with chemicals added to produce smoke signals that are watched by the world: black smoke (fumata nera) signifies an inconclusive vote; white smoke (fumata bianca) announces that a new pope has been chosen.

This moment—when white smoke curls into the sky from the Sistine Chapel chimney and spills over the expanse of St. Peter’s Square—constitutes one of the most iconic and electrifying spectacles of Catholicism. It signifies not merely the election of a new pontiff but the continuation of apostolic succession, tracing back to St. Peter himself. The crowd, often numbering in the hundreds of thousands and spilling into the streets of central Rome, erupts in anticipation. Soon after, the new pope appears on the central loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica to offer the traditional urbi et orbi blessing—to the city and to the world—signaling the beginning of a new spiritual era for over a billion Catholics globally.

This carefully structured series of rituals and transitions—moving from mourning to selection, from solemnity to celebration—demonstrates the Catholic Church’s enduring power to stage a sacred continuity, even in the face of mortality. The convergence of deep theological symbolism, rigid institutional formality, and global political relevance make the papal succession one of the most significant religious processes in the modern world. What unfolds at the Vatican in these days is not only an ecclesiastical event but a global moment—watched, interpreted, and felt from the corridors of Rome to the remotest corners of the Earth.