Archbishop of Canterbury: The Right to Elect, Past & Present

The election of the Archbishop of Canterbury has always been a complex process. Today, it is a structured procedure led by the Crown Nominations Commission (CNC), but in the medieval period, it was a harsh battle of finance, influence, and legality that often left a bitter taste in the mouths of those involved.

Comparing modern and medieval elections reveals not only how far the process has come but also how some challenges—such as political maneuvering and financial costs—have remained.

The Modern Election Process

In November 2024, Justin Welby, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, resigned from his office. Under the Bishops (Retirement) Measure 1986, the outgoing archbishop submits their resignation to the King, followed by an Order in Council declaring the vacancy. The search for a successor then begins, typically taking several months.

The CNC, a church-led body, plays the central role in selecting candidates. Although the king formally appoints the archbishop, the CNC is responsible for nominating a primary candidate and a reserve. This process ensures that the Church of England, rather than the government, has significant control over the selection. The nomination must receive at least two-thirds support from CNC members in a secret ballot, and this time, representatives from the global Anglican Communion will also participate in the vote.

Once a nominee is selected, the Prime Minister asks whether they are willing to serve. If they accept, the King formally confirms the appointment, granting the Canterbury College of Canons permission to elect the candidate. The final steps include a Confirmation of Election ceremony at St Paul’s Cathedral and a formal enthronement at Canterbury Cathedral.

The Medieval Battle for the Right to Elect

Medieval elections were anything but smooth, and choosing an archbishop was more like a high-stakes power struggle than a simple vote. For centuries, the monks of Canterbury Cathedral Priory held the right to elect—but their choice was rarely final. Kings schemed, popes intervened, and rival factions clashed, turning what should have been a sacred decision into a battleground of politics and ambition. This chaos is best understood through the lens of the 13th century, a period that lays bare the drama, disputes, and devastation behind the selection of Canterbury’s next archbishop.

Page from a late 13 c. copy of the Decretals of Gregory IX, now in the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Florence

When Archbishop Richard le Grant died in 1231, the battle for his successor plunged Canterbury into three years of chaos. The monks, determined to assert their ancient rights, put forward their candidate—but Pope Gregory IX had other plans, overriding them in favour of Edmund of Abingdon. Displeased, the monks journeyed across Europe, pleading their case before the pope in Rome. To sustain their legal battle for the protection of their rights, they borrowed heavily from Italian merchants, with records showing loans from Roman, Florentine, and Sienese lenders. In fact, in 1239, the sub-prior wrote to Canterbury to say that, because of their prolonged stay in Rome, they had run out of funds and required a loan. In the following year, £200 was borrowed from Florentine merchants, with a further £231 12s. 10d. borrowed the following year.

The demand to repay these loans along with their respective interest charges led to the priory being heavily in debt. This became a problem when, in the 1240s, whilst the priory was paying off old debts from its conflicts with Edmund, the election of Boniface of Savoy brought with it a host of new and costly court and litigation proceedings.

Despite initially offering no opposition to his election, the monks soon found themselves in quarrels over the debts incurred by Boniface’s predecessors. In order to recuperate losses, Boniface pursued exacting heavy fines for all irregularities of conduct among the monks. So heavily did he fine them for breaches of the Rule of St Benedict that the monks were compelled to mortgage six of their best manors to pay debts. Tensions reached such heights that one such source, in which Boniface attempted to remove the sub-prior from office, details that he exclaimed, “Tomorrow I will enter the chapter house and whenever I please, and I give you warning that I will excommunicate the first man who tries to hinder me!” Taking the matter to court, the lawyers spent vast amounts on legal fees and bribing cardinals to favour their cause. As with the conflicts of Edmund, loans were almost definitely relied upon to sustain this. The problem, however, was that the magnitude of these debt repayments was causing the priory’s expenses to exceed their annual income of around £2400 in the 1240s, by an average of £100-£200. Thus, over the following decades, around 44.7% of the total expenses were purely allocated to debt repayments. This burden reached its height when the only way to repay the outstanding debts was to borrow more loans.

By the 1270s, however, the monks had learned from past experiences and sought financial reforms. After the death of Archbishop Boniface, they attempted to elect their Prior, Adam Chillenden. However, their choice was opposed by Prince Edward, who claimed Adam had sided with Simon de Montfort during the Second Barons’ War. This is heavily debated, but the monks repudiated the charge and submitted a petition to the College of Cardinals (the papal chair being vacant at this time) to assert that their Prior was pure in character and had supported the royal cause by lending money to the Queen. Further, they argued that after the defeat of the King at Lewes, Prince Edward was given shelter and entertainment within Canterbury. Both Chillenden and Burnell (the King’s nomination) were set aside by the newly elected Pope Gregory X, who instead favoured Robert Kilwardby, a Dominican friar.

This time, the monks negotiated an agreement that placed the financial burden of the election on the archbishop himself. Even so, within the expenses of 1273 is £219 2s. 9d. ob. allocated “for the election” with a further £33 14d. “for court.” The reason for this is that, according to Gervase of Canterbury, the election amounted to over 3,000 marks, which Kilwardby refused to solely pay. He also attempted to remove the prior for insisting on such a heavy burden. In order to “evade his hands,” the prior persuaded the convent to reduce their demand and contribute to the electoral process. For this, Kilwardby later contributed 1,300 marks in 1274, which was immediately used to pay off other loans.

The Cost of Power: Financial Burdens of Elections

To fund these expenses, the priory gradually shifted from relying on Italian moneylenders to borrowing from trusted friends within England, including. By the late 13th century, they secured loans from church officials and royal financiers, reducing the risk of crippling debt. Despite these reforms, the financial toll of elections continued to plague the monks, with records showing that some elections left the priory in debt for decades.

Lessons from History: What Has Changed?

While today’s process for appointing an archbishop is far more regulated, echoes of the past remain. The modern CNC ensures that the Church retains a strong voice in the selection, much like the medieval monks who fought to preserve their right to elect. However, political influence persists—the Prime Minister still plays a role, and global Anglican representation in the CNC adds new dimensions to the decision-making process. The election of the Archbishop of Canterbury has always been a reflection of power and politics. While today’s process is more orderly, medieval elections reveal a world where influence was won through debt, diplomacy, and sheer persistence.