John Paul's gamble pays off; next high-risk stop: Argentina
During his six-day pastoral visit to England, Scotland and Wales that ended last week, Pope John Paul II evoked the sobering specter of modern warfare at nearly every stop. To a Britain at war, the Pope offered a vision of peace—of the inviolable worth and dignity of every soul on earth. At an open-air Mass, he told 300,000 cheerful but attentive listeners that, if unleashed, society's war machines today would make even the destruction of World War II pale in comparison. He spoke near the most renowned landmark in Coventry, England: the remnant of the bombed-out Anglican cathedral, left standing as a perpetual reminder of the horrors of war. The Pontiff painted a chilling picture of "people . . . under the shadow of a nuclear nightmare."
Clearly alluding to the old-style battle that was moving toward a final denouement on the Falkland Islands, he said, "Today the scale and horror of modern warfare, whether nuclear or not, makes it totally unacceptable as a means of settling differences between nations. War should belong to the tragic past, to history."
In fact, war had almost dashed the Pope's hopes for his pastoral and long-awaited trip to Britain. But John Paul, overruling the caution of close advisers, would not let war prevent his mission of peace. In the end it was clear that the Pope's judgment had been sound and his trip a phenomenal triumph. Under uncharacteristically sunny skies and warm ecumenical dispositions, the pretrip jitters about security and the ticklish wartime atmosphere quickly subsided. Britons took no perceptible offense at the Pope's plan to fly to Argentina this Friday, though perhaps he should anticipate some British grumbling when he shakes the hand of General Leopoldo Galtieri, with whom he is expected to meet. A session with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher had been canceled to point up the nonpolitical nature of the Pope's British tour.
Though some crowd turnouts were smaller than anticipated, 1.9 million Britons attended the papal events, and millions more were glued to TV screens to view the first visit in history of a Pope to Britain. John Paul II pulled off a kind of diplomatic and personal coup that should move forward the cause of Christian unity, if not world peace. Many who viewed the Pope's impressive performance were struck by his simplicity, straightforwardness and warmth.
Into crowds of massed enthusiasm, John Paul plunged with a tactile directness, grasping hands, reaching out to hug and kiss infants with a touch that was at once firm and paternal. Through 15-hour day upon 15-hour day, the Pope persevered, both visibly wearied by the self-imposed ordeal and rejuvenated by the obvious stir he was creating. Said one member of the Pope's entourage: "He is a good dash man but not a miler. He gets awfully tired after a sprint. But the crowd scenes and the youth meetings seem to inject adrenaline into his veins." Concluded Glasgow Catholic Archbishop Thomas Winning: "This was his hardest mission. The British are a phlegmatic people, yet he captured them completely."