At the heart of the mystery of the conclave, this sacred ritual by which the Catholic Church designates a new sovereign pontiff, lies a series of silent gestures, discreet signs, imperceptible clues to the uninitiated, but meaningful to insiders. Among these gestures is a singular action, rarely observed but which, when it occurs, attracts the attention of Vatican experts and those in the know: that of the elected cardinal who, in the moment following his acceptance of the Petrine ministry, removes his red skullcap—called zucchetto—to offer it to the secretary of the conclave.

This gesture, although not inscribed in canon law nor formally codified in the apostolic constitutions governing the conclave, has been reported on rare occasions in recent history. It is neither a universal custom, nor a firmly established tradition, but rather an occasional, exceptional fact, whose symbolic significance is interpreted through the prism of curial usages, human relations, and the silent language of recognition among servants of the Church.

A Sacred Framework, a Discreet Role: The Secretary of the Conclave

Before understanding the symbolic scope of this gesture, it is appropriate to recall the role of the conclave secretary. This prelate, generally from the diplomatic corps of the Holy See or from the services of the Secretariat of State, is responsible for ensuring the smooth logistical and administrative operation of the conclave. He ensures the absolute confidentiality of the deliberations, assists the cardinals in the material organization of the ballot, and rigorously coordinates the complex procedures that mark this highly solemn election.

Often little known to the general public, the conclave secretary embodies a figure of discretion and fidelity. He acts in the shadows, but his role is indispensable to the smooth running of the electoral process. He thus finds himself in a unique physical and spiritual proximity to the cardinals during these days of closure and intense prayer. It is perhaps this singular position, at the crossroads of service and trust, that makes his potential recognition all the more symbolic.

The Gesture of Giving: Recognition, Omen, or Simple Courtesy?

It has happened, quite exceptionally, that the newly elected cardinal to the throne of Peter removes his red skullcap and hands it to the secretary of the conclave. This gesture is not found in any liturgical text, any apostolic constitution, or any canonical manual. It is not required by the Ordo Rituum Conclavis, the official ritual of the conclave, nor even mentioned in legal sources such as Universi Dominici Gregis.

But when it does occur, this gesture draws attention. For in the clerical culture of the Vatican, where signs, gestures, and postures often carry more weight than words, it can be read as a mark of personal gratitude, even as a harbinger of more formal recognition. Some have seen it as a "signal" from the new pope, expressing his wish to subsequently elevate the conclave secretary to cardinal dignity. The red skullcap thus becomes, by metonymy, the symbol of a possible future purple.

Documented Cases: John XXIII and Francis, Two Noted Gestures

Two contemporary examples, although spaced by several decades, have fueled this symbolic reading.

The first dates back to 1958, during the election of Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, who became John XXIII. According to some accounts, still debated, John XXIII would have placed his red skullcap on the head of Msgr. Alberto di Jorio, then secretary of the conclave. The latter was indeed created cardinal shortly after the election. Even if the historical sources on this point are fragmentary, the gesture is mentioned in several biographical accounts and oral testimonies.

The second case is more recent and better documented. In 2013, after the election of Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio as Pope Francis, several journalists and observers present behind the scenes reported that he had removed his red skullcap to give it to Msgr. Lorenzo Baldisseri, secretary of the conclave. He reportedly whispered these words to him: "You are half a cardinal." This gesture was discreet, not officially publicized, but confirmed in a half-word by sources close to the Vatican. Msgr. Baldisseri was indeed created cardinal during the next consistory, in February 2014.

An Emerging Tradition or a Simple Occasional Courtesy?

In light of these two cases, one might be tempted to speak of an emerging tradition. However, caution is needed: two examples, however striking, are not enough to establish a custom. Canon law rigorously distinguishes between usus (occasional usages), consuetudines (local or personal customs), and traditiones (universal and enduring practices). In this case, we are faced with a personal, non-generalized usage, whose scope is primarily human and spiritual before being institutional.

But the Church, rich in its symbols, also feeds on these discreet gestures which, if they don't make the law, sometimes make history. The offering of the red skullcap, in these rare cases, is therefore not to be interpreted as a right to the cardinal's purple, but as a sign of trust, a tribute to a service rendered in the shadows, and perhaps an opening to a shared future in the governance of the Church.

Conclusion: Between Silent Rite and Living Narrative

Ultimately, the gift of the red skullcap by the elected cardinal to the secretary of the conclave constitutes neither a canonical tradition nor an implicit rule. It is a personal gesture, rare, but highly symbolic, observed twice in modern times and always followed by an elevation to the cardinalate. It embodies, in a silent moment, that dynamic peculiar to the Vatican where history is written as much in discreet acts as in solemn texts. It also testifies to that part of humanity, recognition, and fraternal affection that survives amid great spiritual decisions.