Garrulous and self-effacing, Festing embodies some of the paradoxes of a fabled Catholic religious order that dates from the medieval Crusades: Steeped in European nobility and mystique, the order’s mission is humility and charity – running hospitals, ambulance services and old folks’ homes around the globe. It has many trappings of a country, printing its own stamps, coins, license plates and passports, and yet – a stateless state – it rules over no territory.
The Sovereign Military Order of Malta’s world headquarters, down the block from the Spanish Steps and with an Hermes boutique on the corner, features reception rooms draped in oil portraits of grand masters past and a gem of a chapel where King Juan Carlos of Spain was baptized by the future Pope Pius XII. On the ground floor, it runs a health clinic that, while private, provides free services for anyone who can’t pay.
“It is, I suppose, a series of contradictions,” Festing told The Associated Press ahead of the order’s 900th birthday this week. “I’m on the inside of it, so it doesn’t seem to be contradictory to me, but maybe it is.”
And as the Sovereign Military and Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem of Rhodes and of Malta, as the group is officially called, celebrates the anniversary today with a procession through St. Peter’s Square, a Mass in the basilica and an audience with Pope Benedict XVI, the ancient order is confronting some very modern-day issues.
Once drawn exclusively from Europe’s nobility, the order is trying to shed its image as a purely rich man’s club while still tapping the world’s wealthy to fund its charitable work. And though its military past is well behind it, the order is waging real legal battles to fend off what it says are impostors seeking to piggyback on its name to con people out of money.
Festing, a 63-year-old Briton and former Sotheby’s auctioneer, is expansive about the unusual attributes of his organization of 13,500 Knights and Dames who make promises to be good Christians and fund the order’s humanitarian work.
“On the one hand it’s a sovereign entity. On the other hand it’s a religious order. On the other hand it’s a humanitarian organization. It’s a complicated mixture of things,” he says.
The order traces its history to the 11th century with the establishment of an infirmary in Jerusalem that cared for people of all faiths making pilgrimages to the Holy Land. It is the last of the great lay chivalrous military orders like the Knights Templars that combined religious fervor with fierce military might to protect and expand Christendom from Islam’s advance during the Crusades.
Even though it’s a Catholic aid group – whose origins date from the Crusades – the order works in several Muslim countries, including Pakistan and Syria. “We do not hide that we are Christian, but we do not proselytize. That is impossible,” said the order’s health minister, Albrecht von Boeselager.
All told, 98,000 members, employees and volunteers work in aid projects in 120 countries; the overall annual operating budget can run to euro 200 million, Festing says.
“We certainly don’t want to be, and in fact we’re not a sort of rich man’s club,” Festing insists. “To a sort of an extent you could say, ‘Well maybe they are, slightly.’ But that’s not the basis of it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten in.”
That elite reputation, however, combined with the order’s neutral and apolitical relief work, has earned it a level of prestige that few organizations can match. Governments, the European Union and U.N. agencies finance the order’s humanitarian operations; it has observer status at the United Nations and diplomatic relations with 104 countries – many in the developing world where such ties can help smooth the delivery of aid.
But the prestige has come with a price: Copycat orders have sprung up claiming to be the Knights of Malta or an offshoot. These “false orders” prey on people eager to contribute to a Catholic charity.