Il seminarista rosso, or The Red Seminarian, is a powerful and meticulously researched exposé of the ideological infiltration that has shaped the modern Catholic Church from within. Tracing the furtive paths of Marxist and modernist influences, Gianandrea de Antonellis presents a bold and provocative account of the post-conciliar Church, while maintaining focus on the profound spiritual and cultural ramifications at hand. Supported by extensive footnotes and documentation, the author draws upon a wide array of ecclesiastical, political, and philosophical sources.Though lengthy, the following quotations are essential for understanding the full scope of the author’s argument.
“In the case of the 'revolution in the Church'—that is, the Second Vatican Council—it did not arise out of nowhere, but was carefully prepared in the decades preceding it. Its promoters were, on one hand, the modernists, who had been exposed but not eradicated by Pascendi; [1] on the other hand, the new anti-Christian forces of Marxist origin. Both modernists and communists were united in the project of destroying the traditional Church from within rather than from without, as had been attempted previously (to cite only the main cases of the last millennium) by the Albigensians, Protestants, advocates of national churches (gallicani, giuseppinisti, etc.), [2] Enlightenment thinkers, Jacobins, jurisdictionalists, liberals (Kulturkampf, desamortización, guarentigie), [3] and, in the last century, Spanish anarcho-socialists and German National Socialists.
“A precedent for this ‘struggle from within’ can be found in the ‘underground’ movement of Jansenism (17th century), which in Italy found its most significant expression in the Synod of Pistoia (1786). [4] The movement, which takes its name from the Bishop of Ypres, Cornelius Otto Jansen (Latinized as Jansen or Giansenio, 1585–1638), sought to implement a semi-Calvinist reform while never formally leaving the bosom of the Church, attempting instead to infect it from within. Because of its elitist character, however, it remained relatively isolated: its ‘coming to light’ at the Synod of Pistoia even provoked a popular uprising, as it sought to abolish certain devotions deeply cherished by the faithful.”
With a seamless blend of theological critique and historical analysis, de Antonellis reveals recurring patterns of subversion and doctrinal compromise.
“Iconoclasm and the abolition of side altars, the use of the vernacular language in the liturgy, and episcopalism or conciliarism (that is, considering the bishops’ conference as the head of the national Church while leaving to the pope the simple role of unus inter pares), [5] proposed by the Synod of Pistoia and immediately condemned, were triumphantly accepted with the Council and its ‘spirit.’
“The disruptive force of the neo-modernist mentality nonetheless comes from elements of extra-ecclesial formation: namely the Marxist infiltrators who, in the wake of Stalin’s consolidation of power in the USSR and the subjugation of the Orthodox Church, were tasked with weakening the Catholic Church, undertaking a long-term effort that offered promising prospects and—eighty years later—an almost unexpected success.
“In the 1930s, the secret services of the Soviet Union employed every kind of stratagem, even the most Machiavellian, in order to ‘plant the seed of ideological counteroffensive in the very heart of Western democracies and even within the fascist states themselves, beginning with Mussolini’s Italy, where they could serve in the dual role of fifth columns within the Catholic Church and agents of political espionage with an anti-capitalist and anti-bourgeois orientation.’ [6]
“This infiltration naturally continued after the Second World War: during the years of the Cold War, a significant number of Soviet secret service members—Italians, French, Germans, and so on, all young people of proven Marxist-Leninist conviction—skillfully infiltrated not only the vital organs of civil society in Western countries (newspapers, publishing houses, courts, labor unions), but also the ranks of the Catholic Church, starting at the level of priestly formation—that is, in seminaries and novitiates—with the specific mandate to subtly implant communist ideas into the mentality and practice of the clergy.”
He gives particular attention to the role of the Jesuit order, liberation theology, and the cultural upheavals that followed the Second Vatican Council.
“A privileged instrument in this infiltration project has been the Society of Jesus. Whereas in the past the Jesuits were the arch-enemies of Freemasonry (which even succeeded in having them suppressed by the Holy See), they have now become its preferred tool, ‘with the precise aim of achieving a ‘normalization’ of relations with Freemasonry.’ With the ascent of a Jesuit to the papal throne, it is fair to ask: ‘What use will be made, by the religious order by far the most powerful, the richest, the most learned, the most adaptable, the most adventurous, the most cunning in political and diplomatic experience, the best connected with the secular world, with other religions, and with Freemasonry itself, as well as with international high finance, of its immense power?’ [7]
“In truth, the Jesuit order has long been only outwardly the same as it was in past centuries: already by the mid-twentieth century, certain members of the order—such as Teilhard de Chardin—stirred polemics and controversy with their bold theological positions; others, like Karl Rahner, openly advocated for a radical reform of the Church, and vigorously promoted this agenda, even within the halls of the Second Vatican Council.
“That very Council has been interpreted, by more than one observer, as an attempt to implement the comprehensive reform envisioned by Rahner and others—a trend that was then developed and deepened under the influence of liberation theology, which also arose—not coincidentally—in Latin American Jesuit circles.
“The Council was followed by the so-called 'spirit of the Council,' that is, the broad interpretation of the deliberately ambiguous conciliar documents. This is why, from a Novus Ordo (the modern Mass) that was originally intended to stand alongside the traditional liturgy, there emerged a practical suppression of the latter.”
I found de Antonellis’ take on the failure of the counter-revolution to be especially compelling. Once more, I quote at length—though not without cause.
“Why did the infiltration of seminaries occur through members or sympathizers of the Communist Party, and not through elements of the Right? Why was there no right-wing response to the hegemonic Marxist strategy? Why—to broaden the discussion—were leftist publishing houses not met with a corresponding network of right-wing publishers, essayists, novelists, or journalists? In reality, attempts were made, but what was lacking—even more than substantial funding like the so-called ‘Moscow gold’—was coordination among the various forces at play.
“In a single phrase, the reason for the overwhelming cultural victory of the Left can be summed up by saying that what the Right lacked was a figure like Gramsci: a thinker who understood the fundamental role of culture, and a Party that recognized this role as primary (regardless of Gramsci’s personal life or his relationship with the Party’s leader, Togliatti).
“But this does not mean that the Right has lacked significant thinkers. On the contrary: I won’t list them—it would be too long—because, ultimately, from Homer to the mid-twentieth century, the greatest writers, philosophers, and poets have essentially been on the Right, meaning religious, monarchist, meritocratic, aristocratic, and anti-democratic (just consider how Homer, in the Iliad, encapsulates the democratic spirit in the figure of Thersites…). [8] What has been entirely lacking, however, is a great man of culture who was recognized and valued as such: ‘When I hear the word culture, I reach for my revolver’—a now-famous phrase from a virtually unknown author, often casually attributed to various right-wing political figures, from Göring to Goebbels, Codreanu, or Primo de Rivera.
“Culture has always been regarded as the pastime of the idle (in the etymological sense, from otium): only those with a stable economic position can afford it. It was therefore unthinkable to make political journalism or literature a profession. The consequence is that—with a few numerically insignificant exceptions—those who wished to combine a cultural vocation with the need to earn a living had to either join a leftist newspaper, magazine, or publishing house, or else find a day job and, in their free time, dedicate themselves to writing not as professionals, but as amateurs. The result has been the dispersion of right-wing culture into a thousand insignificant rivulets.
“Just as there has been no ability to channel the cultural potential of the Right, so too has there been no ability to direct its political potential. It would therefore be inconceivable to ask a group of young people to choose the ‘cloistered path’ for a long-term project to stop the revolution in the Church from within. Certainly, there will be young people with vocations (who, today, will find modernist seminaries with modernist teachers and, once ordained, will celebrate modernist rites under the watchful eye of modernist bishops), but they will be a tiny minority. Why not then consider the entrance of traditionalists into seminaries to counter the revolution in the Church?
“In addition to the lack of an organization encouraging young militants to enter the seminary, this idea of sacrifice (which should not, in fact, be seen as such) clashes with the deep attachment of the Right-wing man to the value of the family, the fundamental nucleus of society: generally, he finds it difficult to renounce family life, even for a prestigious career. He will instead try to reconcile public and private life, work and family—perhaps sacrificing the latter to the former, but never entirely abandoning it, except in rare cases.”
Far from being a mere denunciation, Il seminarista rosso is an unflinching and intellectually rigorous call to vigilance. It compels readers to confront uncomfortable truths about the Church’s modern decline and to recover a restored obedience to tradition, spiritual authority, and metaphysical truth.
A vital contribution to the contemporary Catholic discourse, Gianandrea de Antonellis’ essay deserves a wide readership among all who care about the fate of Catholic tradition in the twenty-first century.
A PDF copy of Il seminarista rosso: L'infiltrazione marxista nella Chiesa can be downloaded at www.altaterradilavoro.com
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, Feast of the Madonna Immacolata
Translation and footnotes are my own unless otherwise indicated.
Notes
[1] Pascendi refers to Pascendi Dominici Gregis, a papal encyclical issued by Pope Pius X on September 8, 1907. It is one of the most important documents of the Catholic Church’s condemnation of Modernism.
[2] Gallicani (Gallicanism) was a political-religious movement that emerged primarily in France, especially during the 17th and 18th centuries, with earlier roots in the Middle Ages. It sought to limit the authority of the pope, particularly in temporal and national matters, and to increase the power of the national church and the monarchy.
Giuseppinisti (Josephinism) was a policy initiated by Emperor Joseph II of Austria (reigned 1765–1790), aimed at subordinating the Catholic Church to the Austrian state and promoting enlightened absolutism. It extended beyond Austria into other Habsburg-controlled territories like Northern Italy.
[3] Kulturkampf is a German term meaning “culture struggle”, and it refers to a period of conflict in the 1870s between the German imperial government, led by Chancellor Otto von Bismarck, and the Catholic Church, particularly in Prussia and other German states.
Desamortización refers to a series of state-led confiscations and sales of Church and communal property carried out primarily in Spain during the 19th century, under various liberal governments. The term comes from the Spanish verb desamortizar, meaning “to disentail” or “to release from mortmain” (i.e., from inalienable ownership, especially by the Church).
Guarentigie refers to the “Law of Guarantees” (Legge delle Guarentigie) enacted by the Italian Kingdom in 1871 after the capture of Rome. It was a unilateral law intended to define the relationship between the newly unified Italian state and the Papacy, following the end of the Papal States.
[4] The Synod of Pistoia was a diocesan synod convened in 1786 in the town of Pistoia, Tuscany, by Bishop Scipione de’ Ricci, under the protection of Grand Duke Leopold of Tuscany (later Emperor Leopold II). It is one of the most important events in the history of Jansenist and proto-modernist reform movements within the Catholic Church in Italy.
[5] Unus inter pares is Latin for “one among equals,” referring to a view that denies the pope’s supreme authority over the bishops.
[6] Francesco Lamendola, Quanti preti di sinistra sono massoni ed ex agenti sovietici infiltrati nei seminari? il Corriere delle Regioni, Quaderni culturali: Giornale Web e www.ariannaeditrice.it [31.1.2017, pagina non più esistente] (Source: original essay by Gianandrea de Antonellis)
[7] Francesco Lamendola, I gesuiti hanno preso il timone della Chiesa, ma per condurla dove?, http://www.ariannaeditrice.it/articolo.php?id_articolo=53779 [7.02.2017]. (Source: original essay by Gianandrea de Antonellis)
[8] Thersites is a character from Homer’s Iliad. He serves as a literary embodiment of ugly, disorderly, and rebellious democratic sentiment, especially when contrasted with the heroic aristocratic ideals of the Greek epic tradition.
