The election of Leo XIV broke one of the geopolitical paradigms of modern Catholicism: the pope cannot come from a world (or colonial) superpower, whether Spain, Portugal, France, or the United States. The geopolitical upheaval brought on by a Trumpist America has contributed to the breaking of that centuries-long rule. But to some, the election of a U.S.-born pope didn’t seem so impossible this time.
The conclave also put an end to the state of exception that was created by the former prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Benedict XVI, when he announced his resignation in February 2013. That decision established a modern precedent, introduced the new title of “pope emeritus,” and entailed a longer-than-expected cohabitation in the Vatican with his successor. Francis ended his pontificate in what you might call the traditional way.
Pope Francis’s solemn funeral was not a low-key ceremony like that of his predecessor. And the embrace of the deceased pope by the many millions who mourned him was a clear rejection of the narrative peddled by some (especially in the United States) that Francis sowed “division” and “schism.” His choice to be buried outside the Vatican, in Santa Maria Maggiore—on the other side of the Tiber—was symbolically appropriate for a pope who insisted on reaching out to the “peripheries.” Francis spoke to the hearts of many, and far beyond the fence of the Church. Popular consensus has political implications for the Church, and Francis’s appeal could not be ignored in the election of his successor. The future will show whether Francis’s pontificate was an exception or a parenthesis in Church history.
Francis’s papacy got off to an unusual start, of course, with the previous pope awaiting the results of the 2013 conclave just a few miles away. Benedict still exerted a significant pull on many Catholics for whom he was a figure of theological identity—and in some cases an ideological one. The 2025 conclave was significant in its own way, taking place amid the process of synodal reform and involving a larger and more diverse College of Cardinals; further, from a theological point of view, it wasn’t dominated by “progressives,” as some had insinuated. Fears that the cardinals’ lack of familiarity with one another would lead to a long and difficult conclave proved unfounded. Many did know each other thanks to their participation in the assemblies of the Synod on Synodality; further, many by now are acquainted with digital communication—the clerical hierarchy is in fact well-interconnected. And while there were concerns about outside influence, the conclave seemed impermeable to it (although the Trumpist provocateur Steve Bannon insisted the election of Leo XIV was rigged).
There are numerous and contradicting opinions on the dynamics at play in Leo’s election. To be sure, the choice of Robert Prevost is a sign of continuity—on Vatican II, on Francis, and on synodality. Further, Leo is the second consecutive pope to come from a religious order and from Latin America. Yes, the Church is more global, and there are more African and Asian Catholics and cardinals. But the Americas are still fundamental for post–Vatican II Catholicism. The United States may no longer be the superpower it was, but U.S. Catholicism is a superpower relative to Europe. This papal election hearkens some soul-searching for the old continent.
Prevost is also the first missionary elevated to the papacy in modern times. But his pan-American experience and time in Peru have tended to overshadow the fact that he was a cardinal working in the Roman Curia when he was elected. He likely comes across as much more energetic than the popes that Catholics under the age of forty remember. He’s the youngest since John Paul II, and having been born in the United States ten years after World War II, he will definitely be viewed differently from his three immediate predecessors, who were born in the 1920s and ’30s. This also (potentially) heralds a long pontificate.
We are just a few days in, but there are some decisions in the coming weeks that will say something about his government. Besides the expected decision to keep Cardinal Pietro Parolin as his Secretary of State, one relevant institutional question concerns what he’ll do with the office itself, which Francis marginalized both in international relations and the governance of the Curia and Vatican in general. In April 2013, four weeks after his election, Francis created a “council of cardinals” (or C9), which continued to meet until almost the end of his pontificate. But Francis never institutionalized the C9—and Leo XIV might decide to do without it. And of course, Leo XIV will soon need a prefect of the Dicastery for the Bishops to replace himself. Finally, it will be interesting to see what Leo XIV—an American—will do with the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors, which Francis decided in 2022 to position within the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, but in a precarious position within the system of the Roman Curia. U.S.-based advocacy organizations for victims and survivors of abuse are sure to monitor the application of the motu proprio Vos estis very closely.
There are longer-term issues too. It will be interesting to observe the relationship between the first U.S.-born pope and the Roman Curia in terms of management culture. Cardinal George Pell, with his brash anti-Italian sentiments, certainly made few friends while head of Vatican finances. And the case of Cardinal Angelo Becciu (who is appealing his conviction and was excluded from the conclave), along with unresolved financial problems at the Vatican, continue to inflict damage on the credibility of key offices in the Curia.
Leo XIV will also establish his own, particular relationship with the U.S. Catholic bishops—and at a crucial time, with the Trump administration becoming increasingly authoritarian. Francis’s February letter to the U.S. bishops—really a response to J. D. Vance, the Catholic vice president, on his misuse of ordo amoris—is in some sense the political testament of Francis’s re-reading of Leo XIII on Rerum novarum (1891) and Testem benevolentiae (1899) on “Americanism.” And it may have been a foreshadowing of the result of the recent conclave.
The United States may no longer be the superpower it was, but U.S. Catholicism is a superpower relative to Europe.
There’s also the upcoming election of a new president of the USCCB in November. It will be harder now for bishops in the United States to ignore or dismiss what comes from the Vatican. Some might continue to do so, but at the price of being identified even more with the likes of Steve Bannon. And even then, Catholicism isn’t dominated or even necessarily guided by the bishops; independent schools and universities, magazines, think tanks, foundations, and donors also have an influence. While John Paul II created a model of hierarchical unity between the Vatican and the Polish bishops, Benedict XVI’s relationship with Germany was much more contentious. U.S. Catholicism is broader and much more diverse than Polish or German Catholicism—and also more divided. These divisions run deeper than those within the USCCB. Expectations are high that Leo may build some bridges among American Catholics, or at least broker a truce. But even within the single tradition of Catholicism, it’s become difficult to separate political polarization and theological-religious differences. What kind of “American Catholic” Leo XIV is, and how this might shape the relations between the papacy, American Catholicism, and the U.S. in general, are open questions.
On the international front, the question is how Leo’s U.S. origins may factor into Vatican diplomacy on Russia and Ukraine, and on Israel, Palestine, and the Middle East. And in this moment of MAGA-Catholic contempt for anything European, it will be interesting to see how Leo will approach relations between the United States and Europe. Francis took some distance from Europe and European politics, pivoted towards Asia, and never visited his own Argentina. But Leo XIV is a pan-American pope in ways Francis could not be. Politically, one of the most sensitive dossiers is the 2018 agreement with China (renewed in October 2024 for another five years), which both MAGA and liberal American Catholics (including Nancy Pelosi) criticized harshly. The relationship between Russia and China, meanwhile, has grown stronger; the May 9 Victory Day parade in Moscow brought Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping together with many leaders of the global south and served as something of a counterpoint to the election of the U.S.-born Leo the day before.
On theology, Leo XIV has made clear that he is a pope who will continue on the path of Vatican II. His Augustinian theology will likely influence his doctrinal policies. But an interesting question is just how he will interpret the council today—sixty years after its conclusion—in terms of its legacy and limits. This will be true especially for the final document, Gaudium et Spes, interpretations of which have differed and been debated over since before the final text was voted and approved—and even more so after. In those debates, Augustine’s theology of the relations between the Church, the world, and history played and continues to play a key role. Augustine was also the first major theological thinker on the doctrine of just war, which was a point of discussion during Francis’s pontificate. Leo’s U.S. roots may make this a sensitive topic; remember as well that the U.S. bishops acted as a bloc in voting against the condemnation of nuclear war at Vatican II.
Leo XIV also spoke openly—before and after the conclave—in favor of synodality. The question is: What kind of synodality does he have in mind? What is the role of the papacy in a synodal Church? What might “decentralization” look like? What role might women have in ministry? Will there be more synods involving laypeople—or will there be a return to the “Synod of Bishops”? The beginning of a papacy offers ample opportunity to pose questions about what might unfold. Perhaps we’ll begin to get some answers to these when the new phase of the Synod (2025–2028)—announced by Francis in March—gets underway.
Reproduced with permission by Commonweal.
