The pontificate of Francis I, which ended in April 2025, has been the subject of diametrically opposed, often passionate assessments, with praise and criticism that are often difficult to evaluate. Many focus less on the reality of his work than on various perceptions that have been created, which likely have little to do with reality. The only useful thing is objective truth, and that is what we are seeking, because an accurate assessment of this pontificate will be very useful to decision-makers, as it requires a comprehensive overview of all the problems of our times. My intention is to focus on the substance of his ideas. So many people have focused only on his communication, his style, or his shortcomings. Since Leo XIV has his own style, and a more classical communication, it is useless to elaborate on what in Francis was making so many people upset or distressed.
The thoughts that follow will therefore cover various topics, namely, (1) political issues (2) the constitution of the Church, (3) religious pluralism (4), moral issues, and (5) liturgical issues. These initial thoughts allow for a nuanced and positive conclusion about the pontificate; but they would also be incomplete, (6) if we did not also seek how the Church could use, in order to make progress, the criticisms Francis received.
(1) Political Issues
The political issues that affect the Church always have a more ethical or theological and apostolic aspect, but they should nevertheless be treated as political issues.
The first issue is that of China. Pope Francis I and his Secretary of State, Cardinal Parolin, were criticized for the agreement reached between the Holy See and China. Rome was said to have abandoned the Church of silence—resistant, heroic and faithful to Catholic unity—in favor of the Church controlled by the Chinese Communist Party. It is best to examine some precedents.
The first of these was the Concordat signed between Bonaparte and Pius VII in 1801, after the French Revolution. The Revolution had sought to impose schism on the Church of France through its Civil Constitution of the Clergy. The Church of France was divided between those who swore allegiance to the new regime and those who refused. Everyone ended up being persecuted, but the refractory more than the others. Napoleon wanted to restore religious freedom and peace without demanding schism, while retaining a certain degree of control. Pius VII thought that the Church was doing well and had come a long way, and to satisfy Bonaparte asked for the resignation of the French bishops, before appointing or reappointing roughly three-thirds: one-third new, one-third former jurors, and one-third former refractories. Many of the old guard, confessors of the faith, had to retire, which they sometimes regarded as a scandalous injustice. But Rome considered that this was political realism and ultimately for the good of the Church. Rome had to swallow some very serious betrayals on the part of Bonaparte’s government (In particular, the publication of the Organic Articles, which took back with one hand what the French state had given up with the other). This precedent, in my opinion, speaks for itself. The parallel, in any case, deserves to be studied in depth.
A second precedent would be the “Ralliement” under the pontificate of Leo XIII in 1892. (Léon XIII, Au milieu des sollicitudes. On the Church and State in France, 1892). We will return to this later.
The second question is that of Islam. Its more theological aspect, linked to the Abu Dhabi declaration, will be considered below (4). As for its more political aspect, it can be presented as a choice between war and peace: either one considers that Islam is incurably an enterprise of conquest by force, followed by a slow digestion-conversion through harassment and humiliation (Rémi Brague, Sur l’islam), and the only policy to deal with it is war; cold, if possible, hot, if necessary. Or, we consider that Islam is something else, or has become something else, or is becoming something else, or has an interest in becoming something else; and the other policy is that of peace.
Francis I chose the peace of civilizations over the clash of civilizations. In terms of pure political realism, we should probably reason as follows. Politics consists of choosing priorities, in particular, identifying one’s main enemy. For even if one wants to be friends with everyone, one must admit that to be friends and at peace, it takes two, while to be at war, only one is needed.
Now, it is particularly clear that the main adversary and conqueror not only of Christianity, but of all religions and wisdom, is the relativist-capitalist-liberal ideology in its postmodern version, of Nietzschean origin, which is taking on increasingly monstrous and antichristian aspects. This common enemy, which may be temporarily defeated but still has enormous potential, forces civilized decision-makers, who are capable of reasoning, to agree, at the very least, to an indefinitely prolonged truce in all major civilizations (with their wisdom and religions), since their conflicts would mainly serve to reinforce the “dictatorship of relativism,” as Benedict XVI said. From a realistic point of view, peace between civilizations is the only sensible policy for the Catholic Church. Of course, for peace to be firmly established, certain problems related to religious freedom and civic equality for Christians in predominantly Muslim countries must be resolved. Insofar as the postmodern, Nietzschean West denies its Christian roots and engages in a systematic denial of natural law, there is no reason for the Church to serve as its useful idiot.
The third issue is that of migrants and migration. Of course, in Europe, because of the emigration of North Africans, it is related to the previous issue, but it also arises between the two Americas, where it has nothing to do with Islam. It must therefore be dealt with methodologically as a separate issue and as a whole, before being correlated with the issue of Islam. Let us look at this from an economic, political, and cultural perspective, and then come to a conclusion about this issue.
An economic perspective. Globalized and financialized liberal capitalism would like to turn the entire world into a single free market for capital, goods, services, and labor. The free movement of capital upsets the balance between capital and labor in favor of capital. This new balance of power is destroying national social pacts and national solidarity, without replacing them with anything credible. In Europe and the US, rejection of immigration, from an economic point of view, is a protest against international trade that lacks solidarity and a defense of jobs and wages. From an economic point of view, accusations of racism, whether based on fact or not, are above all a weapon used by libertarian capitalists against workers who are denied solidarity. This return of class struggle urgently calls for a new economic thinking that closely links the market and solidarity, both nationally and internationally, and restores the predominance of the real economy over the financial sphere. Immigration to rich countries can only be curbed without injustice to the poorest, if the credit system is thoroughly overhauled so that the enormous investment needs of immigrants’ countries of origin can be met without bankruptcy or debt bondage.
A political point of view. The power of globalized liberal capitalism is emptying national democracies of their substance in favor of an increasingly arrogant international oligarchy. This capital fears a popular reaction. Fortunately for it, immigration, taken up by the far left, and protest against immigration, taken up by the far right, create conflicts of interest within the workforce, breaking the “class front” and facilitating the maintenance of capital’s domination. The electoral alliance of the bourgeoisie who benefit from globalization, immigrants, debt-financed civil servants, and transgressive or complex minorities even allows relativist liberal capitalism to hope to maintain itself democratically in power. This manipulation of democracy, transformed into an anti-popular control machine, discredits the political system and destroys trust. It transforms democratic demands into demands for Caesarist and racist authority. Trotskyist socialists, by outbidding each other in anti-racism, are pursuing a policy of the worst kind, hoping that it will lead to the rejection not only of liberal capitalism but of any reasonable market economy. As long as there is no alternative economic solution (a serious one, not a patchwork), the situation will remain deadlocked with increasing entropy.
An international and diplomatic perspective. These internal social dynamics are linked to international dynamics.
- The severe reduction in national independence has favored US imperialism, combined with the oligarchization of the US, but which has also weakened its power, leading to its deindustrialization, which has elevated China as a strategic rival and provoked a revolt in the proletarianized middle class, leading to the election of President Trump.
- The close ties between the US and the State of Israel are part of this political dimension of the Islam problem. Since the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin in 1995 and the coming to power of Benjamin Netanyahu the following year, the Israeli far right has pursued a policy similar to that of South Africa before the end of apartheid. Moreover, by gradually embarking on a path of ethnic cleansing, even genocide, the Hebrews have, little by little, squandered their capital of sympathy, their moral credit, and the historical legitimacy of their state. In this context, rhetoric about the Islamist threat in Europe serves to create de facto solidarity between Israel’s ultra-colonialist policy and European states, should the far right come to power. Nationalists have often combined anti-Semitism and Zionism. Their preference for having Jews in Israel rather than at home is combined with the satisfaction of having a bridgehead to contain the aggressiveness of conquering Islam, which they believe would otherwise pursue its goals in Europe. Will Europeans, following in the wake of American neoconservatives, remain indefinitely the useful idiots of crazy Zionists, dragging the entire West into the historical catastrophe toward which the State of Israel itself seems to be heading?
- Under these circumstances, it is understandable that Pope Francis I was absolutely right to take the positions he adopted on the war in Gaza, on the political solution in the Holy Land, and on immigration, so as not to allow himself to be dragged along by a policy which, volens-nolens, is that of rich, domineering and racist countries eager to maintain their power over the rest of the world by force.
A cultural perspective. The arrival of large numbers of immigrants from other cultures obviously creates a major problem for peaceful governance, since it is impossible, without a shared culture, to make decisions that are willingly accepted by all. Relativist-capitalist-liberals find a political and therefore economic advantage in maintaining this unease and confusion, which divides the people and degrades the common cultural tradition in Europe. For this tradition, formed of universalist blocs, whether Catholicism or Kantianism, is reduced to a fearful particularism of little white people. Relativism then remains the sole representative of the universal. This is the desired goal. Moreover, by radicalizing murderous nihilism (abortion, euthanasia) or transgressive nihilism (LGBT, identity delusions, etc.), liberal-capitalist relativists ensure that immigrants will not want to assimilate or even enter into dialogue with the monstrous host culture, which will, on the one hand, harden the opposition between the native population and the immigrant population and, on the other hand, provide justification for persecuting both native and immigrant traditions in the name of democracy, unity, etc. Without a new humanist synthesis that serves traditions and destroys relativism, and without appropriate developments in the DSE, it seems impossible to find a way out of this situation, which is leading to the Universal Leviathan (UL) and a kind of universal Nazism (UNz).
Conclusion. The non-Western world is ultimately threatened by the same negative developments that the West is undergoing, but it has a little more time, and this justifies Rome investing more in those regions that have not yet chosen nihilism and self-genocide. It is also in the non-Western world that there are the poorest people, who are most in need of help. The postmodern West is losing power in the world because it is becoming monstrous and, above all, completely irrational, like Nietzsche’s philosophy. Pope Francis I rebalanced the Church’s position, bringing it into line with the new demographic and even political balances in the world. It is to be hoped that Pope Leo XIV will also help the US avoid becoming a continental Israel. The weight of puritanical Calvinism, traditionally Zionist, in the US makes one pessimistic about its future, but the vitality of Catholicism is also a factor of hope. But here again, what is needed above all is a true cultural revolution, beginning with philosophy, to destroy relativism.
(2) Constitution of the Church
We can leave aside issues relating to the reform of the Curia. The fight against centralism, bureaucracy, and careerism is not specifically Christian. It is inherent in any organization seeking to function properly. The situations that need to be reformed are contingent, and reform projects are a matter of prudential judgment, which may be considered more or less judicious in substance. In terms of form, leaders can choose to operate quietly or to kick the anthill. These are important issues, but they are secondary to the central issue, because in any case, the future of the Catholic Church does not depend primarily on them. The crises of the Church are obviously not primarily problems of administration or management.
So, what is the central issue in this area of the constitution of the Church? I have heard many times the criticism levelled at Pope Francis I and, more generally, at Vatican II and the popes since John XXIII, that they have led a democratic revolution in the Church, thereby betraying the intention of its Founder. Here are two principles and a conclusion, on this subject.
First principle. When I was still a student, a Dominican friar, a learned theologian, with whom I was discussing St. Thomas Aquinas, drew my attention to canon law in the 13th century. From the little I read at the time, I retained a very vivid memory and a deep impression. I read that the Church was a society with a mixed regime, comprising monarchy (the papacy), aristocracy (the clergy), and democracy (the laity). Classical political theory teaches that a mixed regime is the best, and it is right. Everyone understands that a pure regime is unjust and unstable; it almost always becomes either tyrannical, oligarchic, or anarchic. The Church is democratic insofar as it is a society where true greatness is holiness, which is very often unknown and invisible. This necessarily relativizes the hierarchy of government. This is eminently democratic. A society in which any volunteer can enter the aristocracy and in which any aristocrat can theoretically become monarch or advisor to the monarch has a highly democratic character. The relative brevity of pontificates, or even episcopates, due to a wise slowness in the progression of ecclesiastical careers, also goes in the same direction. Celibacy prevents the formation of priestly dynasties, limits nepotism, and reinforces this democratic character (Paul VI, Sacerdotalis coelibatus, 24 June 1967). Everyone understands that without monarchy, the Church would be too subject to civil power externally, or too dominated internally by various aristocracies that would rise up within it and become oppressive oligarchies. Prudent government requires that the leader take counsel from his subordinates or his peers and, more generally, listen to the people, not to sound out opinion, but to listen to the Holy Spirit in the people and hear what He is saying to him. The same logic requires that a mixed regime be in force at the various levels of organization, with the monarchical principle always preserved as a guarantee of democracy against oligarchies. Too often, in fact, what is called democratization is in reality oligarchization, leading to ideological and elitist policies that are far removed from the interests of the people. Good order requires that these solid decision-making powers be exercised within the framework of a respected and rigorously administered law. A mixed regime is both solid and flexible, adaptable to circumstances. These circumstances periodically require that one or other dimension be strengthened, without the regime losing its mixed character. These changes are not absolute and must be reversible. In this respect, the mixed regime is profoundly pragmatic. More generally, in a society where freedom is not put first, but rather charity, love of God, and mutual love, power is not put first either, and struggles for preeminence and power or freedom are evidence of a bad spirit.
Second principle. The dominant philosophies in the Western world, which place freedom first, inevitably inspire ideological policies aimed primarily at establishing a particular political, economic, or even cultural order, whether liberal, socialist, communist, anarchist, or fascist, as if the construction of pure and perfect institutions were the main goal of social life. Those who believe in these ideologies are generally incapable of understanding and operating mixed regimes. This is why, if the Church is infected by these philosophies and ideologies, it tends to submit to a logic that is not only unspiritual and unchristian, but also devoid of any human wisdom, justice, or prudence. All the flaws and divisions of so-called modern politics are imported into the Church.
Conclusion. This being clearly stated, it is obvious that “collegiality” is not the abolition of monarchy (and therefore also of democracy) at all levels, but respectful fraternity in the exercise of power, team spirit, and prudence that seeks counsel. “Synodality” is nothing more than another way of referring to the mixed regime in the Church, where collegiality, far from turning into ideological oligarchy and the dictatorship of pressure groups, remains authentic and is strengthened by attentive listening to the needs of the people and by their mobilization in the service of the mission, which is the witness of faith. This participation is impossible without the responsible commitment of the people, without subsidiarity in organization, and without leading people to become micro-feudal lords of their micro-power. The witness of faith is above all personal, confidential, and friendly, and since what is being witnessed is Divine Love, it can only be authenticated by families or communities in which real love is lived, united with true wisdom.
Fratelli tutti. This is how Fratelli tutti is at one with synodality. If we read this text carefully, we realize that the fraternity in question is first and foremost that of human beings, all members of the same family because they are members of the same species, the human race; then social friendship, in the sense of philia, since man is by nature a social animal and not a selfish, solitary individual; then friendship as it is tinged with the brotherly love that can exist within families where people love each other (indeed, there are some); and finally, we note that we search in vain for the parricidal brotherhood of the Widow’s sons. The main idea of this encyclical could not be further from the thinking of the so-called Enlightenment, since it is nothing more than the very changing of the cornerstone of civilization, putting social friendship first and no longer freedom, which is a great divine gift (Leo XIII, Libertas praestantissimum), but which is too often only the obverse of a coin whose reverse is the will to power. What can be criticized most of all about this encyclical is that it is five times too long and drowns the main idea in too many secondary and much more contingent ideas. A wisdom of philia is the culture that a mixed regime requires in order to function. This teaching on philia very happily complements Benedict XVI’s teaching on eros and agape (Benedict XVI, Caritas in Veritate).
Confirmation. It must be noted that the pope’s practice of synodality is significantly more monarchical than that of his predecessors (he was even accused of tyranny); that, if he had wanted to, he could have carried out the progressive agenda in thirteen years, which essentially boils down to abolishing the sixth commandment of God and transforming the Church into an association with a woke culture and democratic statutes, the demos in question being essentially the most ideological fraction of the laity; and that if he had wanted to, he would not only have done so, but through his appointments to the Sacred College he would have ensured the election of another ideologue to succeed him and perpetuate what he would have done. This is belied by what actually took place.
(3) Religious Pluralism
Religious pluralism and the Abu Dhabi Declaration. Pope Bergoglio’s opponents consider the Abu Dhabi declaration incompatible with faith in Jesus as the one Savior. They publicly denounced, or in petto, a text that they claim constitutes a rallying cry for relativism and indifference, which is completely contrary to Catholic tradition. (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith [signed by Cardinal Ratzinger, confirmed by Pope John Paul II, August 6, 2000], Dominus Jesus, no. 4. After recalling the esteem of the Second Vatican Council for all that is true and noble in all traditions, the text explains that interreligious dialogue is part of evangelization and notes that: “The Church’s constant missionary proclamation is today endangered by relativistic theories which attempt to justify, not only de facto but also de jure (or in principle), religious pluralism.” The crux of the argument in this text is explained in No. 10 of the document. If we believe that the Word of God, who is God, truly became man, and that He is the only Son of God, it is obvious that there is something unique about this. The text also notes that de jure pluralism has no scriptural basis and is purely a matter of philosophical decisions.)
Here again, only the truth is useful, and I believe that the most important sentence in this joint declaration with the imam of Al Azhar is this: “Avoid useless discussions.” The sentence that is declared heterodox is this: “The plurality of religions, colors, sexes, races, and languages is a wise divine will, through which God created human beings.” What exactly does this text say? That there are natural religions and that the plurality of natural religions is the result of wise divine will. Indeed, race and gender are natural realities. It is just as natural for a human being to have a language and a culture. Every culture has an idea of the Absolute. The relationship with the Absolute is religion and is part of culture. It is natural for a human being to have a religion. This is human nature. In other words, the text says that man is by nature a religious animal and that it is natural for the religious genius of humanity to produce a plurality of natural religions. The religious plurality referred to here as divine wisdom is therefore the natural plurality in creation. This is not disrespectful to Islam, which has never claimed to be more than a natural religion, at most the best natural religion. Nor is it reductive to Christianity, which is a supernatural religion but which, viewed from the outside or abstracting from faith, can also be considered a natural religion. The text does not say that Christianity is not a natural religion, or is not a supernatural religion, and it is precisely because it does not say so that this text remains orthodox.
Why does this natural religious plurality have value? The parallel with sex or language is illuminating. Plurality implies a value of complementarity, as in the case of sexual difference; or it has the value of rich variations on a single inexhaustible theme, as in the case of racial difference; or, in the case of linguistic difference, the two previous values are combined, because religious genius, in its intuition of the Absolute, finds it difficult to say everything in a single expression. The novelty of Francis I’s teaching on the subject consists in this: that the principle that grace does not abolish nature also applies to natural religion as part of human nature. Thus, Christianity is not primarily in competition or conflict with other religions, but in a complementary relationship, just as grace needs nature. Just as the theological virtues need the foundation of the cardinal virtues, so supernatural religion needs the richness of natural religions, which it recapitulates. Consequently, if a follower of another religion “converts” to Christianity, he loses nothing of the value and truth that his natural religion contained. Conversely, even a Christian born into Christianity and baptized at birth must “convert” and, in order to do so, renounce in his natural human religiosity whatever is neither value nor truth.
Opponents of the declaration may criticize its verbosity, its exuberant sentimentality, or find the banalities of secularized Western humanism bland, as it may seem to repeat them uncritically at a time when they have lost their substance in a guilt-ridden and moralizing postmodern West that imposes its backward moral order with intolerance and censorship. However, rather than dismissing this text, we can read it with more serenity, recognizing that it goes so far as to consider the absolute humanism of the modern West for what it is: a natural religion, invented by the modern West, undoubtedly by secularizing Christianity, or even against it, which is open to criticism, but not without also offering, in some respects, a brilliant, authentic, and non-Luciferian expression of the religious genius of humankind. In fact, this religion may suggest a deepening of the anthropological notion of the person, and also of the essence of freedom, which, in this natural religion, are the object of a kind of cult, excessive no doubt, sometimes even Luciferian, but also instructive not only about our miseries, but also about our greatness. Setting aside overly human aversion or political resentment, it is a matter of loving the truth and loyally admiring all the beauty of human nature; in short, “learning to love man in order to love God” (Paul VI, Closing Address of the Second Vatican Council, 7 December 1965).
Finally, even if concrete results may be a long time coming, it is very significant that the paragraph on citizenship expressly mentions respect for freedom of worship and the equality of Christians with Muslims in terms of civil rights in a Muslim-majority society.
(4) Moral Issues
Rational eudemonism. Judging by the titles of many of his documents, Pope Francis I placed himself, in terms of ethics, in the philosophical tradition of rational eudemonism, which corresponds, on the supernatural level, to a spirituality of praise of Divine Love and the joy of love and fraternal love: Gaudete et exultate (2018), Amoris Laetitia (2016) Evangelii Gaudium (2013), Laudato si’, Fratelli tutti, Dilexit nos, etc. This, philosophically, is very Thomistic and spiritually very Franciscan. This certainly corresponds to the need for a positive presentation of morality, which too often, according to the nominalist tradition, has been primarily a matter of conscience, of a face-to-face encounter between freedom and the law, of duty. The commandments remain, moreover more radically than ever, but they are, as it were, submerged in the commandment of Love. Suffering and sacrifice remain, but they seem to be drowned in joy. All this is nothing but traditional.
A non-selective morality. What is also very clear is that this pope did not want to have a selective morality. Christ teaches: “If you want to enter into Life, keep the commandments.” “Which ones?” his interlocutor asks him. He replies by listing the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th: “You shall not kill (5th). You shall not commit adultery (6th). You shall not steal (7th). You shall not bear false witness (8th)” (Ex.20:15; Mt.19:18). A selective morality focuses on one commandment and neglects the others. There are two main types of selective morality. To caricature, we could say that conservatives, especially in the West, focus on the sixth commandment, forgetting the seventh, and that progressives focus on the seventh, forgetting the sixth. A non-selective morality upholds both at the same time (Not enough emphasis is placed on the correspondence, and even the near simultaneity, between Paul VI’s Populorum Progressio in 1967 and Humanae Vitae in 1968.). Francis I, who called abortionists “hit men,” knows that social injustice is theft and that there are sinful economic structures that dangerously bring property and theft closer together. God forbids both fornication and theft. This is one of the two main reasons why “it is difficult for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” For “I was hungry and you did not give me food.” Some Church Fathers went much further. St. Jerome is famous for his question, “Quid sit dives nisi latro?” (“What is a rich man but a thief?”).
Regarding the 7th commandment, I would say that Francis I’s teaching sees the 5th commandment as the one that forms the profound unity of the 6th and 7th commandments. Enslavement to the pursuit of pleasure destroys the purity of the heart, the family, and education, but it also kills outright. Abortion is indeed the ultimate means of contraception that seeks pleasure while rejecting life. As for theft, it does not consist primarily of burglary or armed robbery, but of organizations that structurally tolerate and promote highly unjust distributions of the surplus value of common activity, to the point of preventing the sober employee from leading a dignified existence and being able to rent only a space in which to raise children. So, whoever puts workers out of work and young people on the street, or back in their parents’ homes, is the first to hire the abortionist as a hit man. Far from being a relaxation of morals, this is a harsh reminder of the seriousness of sin, by which man unites himself with Satan, who is a murderer from the beginning (Jn.8:44). Francis did not engage in politics in the ordinary sense of the word, but he reminded us that respect for simple natural moral law implies a social doctrine. Francis did not develop this in a particularly conceptual or articulate way, but he did recall its evangelical character.
This brings us back to Leo XIII and another political precedent relevant to our discussion. In France at the end of the 19th century, the Republic was Masonic and anti-Catholic, and Catholics were monarchists and anti-republican. However, the internal and external situation had changed, so that there was a chance that the Republic would put its anti-Catholicism on hold if Catholics put their monarchism on hold. The restoration of the monarchy had become clearly impossible after 1876. In his brief Au milieu des sollicitudes, Leo XIII considered it appropriate to advise French Catholics, for the good of the Church and undoubtedly also for the good of their country, to relativize their opinions concerning the best political regime. Many monarchists, who were also deeply Catholic, found this very difficult to accept, both in France and abroad, and accused the Holy See of betrayal (Cardinal Mariano Rampolla del Tindaro, Secretary of State to Leo XIII between 1887 and 1903, was also accused of being a Freemason. These attacks were probably the reason behind the Austrian Emperor’s veto in 1903 against Rampolla’s election, which led to the election of Saint Pius X, who abolished this right of veto. Leo XIII’s teaching on Freemasonry is contained in his encyclical letter Humanum genus of 20 April 1884). Less than a year earlier, the same pontiff had published the encyclical Rerum Novarum (Au milieu de sollicitudes, which recommends the “Ralliement,” is dated February 16, 1892. Rerum novarum is dated May 15, 1891). The Catholic Church’s reasonable attachment to the principle of authority should not make it a gathering of authoritarian minds. Even the reminder of the importance of the monarchical principle in well-balanced constitutions, both of states and other organizations, should not be equated with a liberation of the will to personal power or a fanatical cult of the leader. The reminder (which may be very relevant) of the importance of the principle of authority (or of security, for example) cannot be used as a tool to obscure the social question or to oppress freedoms. This is probably what constitutes the profound unity between Rerum novarum, which is the goal, and Au milieu des sollicitudes. Dom Prosper Guéranger, a great figure of Catholic France in the 19th century, had in his historical articles in L’Univers largely demythologized a very Christian monarchy, for which Catholicism was to be above all its instrumentum regni.
With that said, we must recognize that Francis did not, to my knowledge, make the decisive progress in the social doctrine of the Church that is required today. We would not be attentive to this evangelical denunciation if we equated it with pauperistic sentimentality, sympathetic utopias, or remakes of socialism. We must build something new and solid, based on the old; that is, above all on Leo XIII (After Rerum novarum by Leo XIII, there was Quadragesimo anno by Pius XI in 1931, in the midst of the crisis of 1929, Populorum Progressio by Paul VI in 1967, Centesimus annus by John Paul II after the end of communism, etc.).
Natural morality. Perhaps its prominence in Francis I’s encyclical Laudato si’ has not been sufficiently explained. The mainstream celebrated with great fanfare a contribution to the major piece of its Malthusian discourse. The anti-mainstream denounced the pope’s “rallying” to the hoaxes of the mainstream. The question of what is really going on with global warming is obviously not a matter for the charism of infallibility. All these discussions are tiresome and lead nowhere.
From the point of view of a profound moral and political philosophy, the ethical problems of our time are linked to a loss of the concept of nature and, consequently, of natural law. This is not simply a question of common sense, social experience, or immediate moral conscience. It is a problem of the mutilation of the experience of Nature and of the physis of natural beings, because of the hypertrophy not of technology itself, but of a technology invisibly structured by concepts that act as a screen between man and the world, failing to grasp the true form of beings, their purpose, even their materiality, not to mention their solidarity and their reciprocal influences. These concepts, of which we are not even aware, are a priori forms arising from the will to power, brutality, fear, and egocentrism, which prevent us from seeing the world, and being, and life, and the mind, and therefore also our living body, which is the body of a mind. What we need is “a new humanist synthesis” (Benedict XVI, Caritas in Veritate, No. 21), including a new philosophy of Nature, enabling us to deepen our knowledge of science in wisdom and to build a new humanist technology, in which humans are not superfluous and which serves a purpose other than to multiply useless waste for the rich and the rentier class. It is also this new understanding of nature that can stop morality from becoming a machine for neurosis and revolt, and give authentic meaning to the notion of moral autonomy (Henri Hude, Ecologie et humanisme. Habiter notre nature, a book dedicated to Pope Francis I).
Regarding the sixth commandment. The criticism levelled at Francis in this area focused on Amoris laetitia, with the question of communion for remarried divorcees, and Fiducia supplicans, on the blessing of same-sex couples.
In my opinion, between Familiaris consortio, by John Paul II, and Amoris laetitia, by Francis I, there is a difference and complementarity that exists and must exist between the theological exposition of the ideal in its universality and the prudential advice relating to the treatment of overly human situations or the management of particular cases.
Above all, there is a difference in era. The civilizational crisis has become much more acute in the West, and it is very clear that in 2025 the world is experiencing the end of liberalism, just as the Russians experienced the end of communism in 1991, or the Germans the end of Nazism in 1945. Skeptics say that history is just repeating itself, but they are wrong to smile. It is true that we are at a turning point in history. Liberalism is over. The Western world wanted democracy, equality, and tolerance; it has become oligarchy, inequality, contempt for the people, censorship, dictatorship of absolutized relativism, and anti-dogmatic dogmatism. It represented an ideal for the rest of the world, but it has become a repulsive force and an object of contempt. In Hegelian terms, the world of the Enlightenment has passed into its opposite. In colloquial terms, the Enlightenment has died out. The predictable consequence is that souls will return to religion.
The question is whether they will find or rediscover the Catholic religion. This will obviously depend on the Church’s capacity to welcome them. This is probably what Pope Francis meant when he said that he was not taking a dogmatic stance, but a pastoral one. He is not saying that sin is not a sin. He is saying that people have been reduced to the point where they can no longer understand what the word “sin” simply means. He is not saying that an objectively disordered act is not objectively disordered. He does not reduce everything to subjective intentions or particular circumstances, to the detriment of the objective norm. He understands that the problem of the sinner lies first and foremost in the idea that individual freedom believes itself to be the creator of the norm and that individual reason no longer knows what the word “objectivity” means, or even what reality means. In this postmodern culture, only fictions are true. “Are not words and sounds the rainbows and illusory bridges thrown between beings forever separated?” (Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra). All rival and parallel creations are radically subjective: “To each soul belongs another world; for each soul, every other soul is a world behind” (Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra). The question is therefore how the Church can and must prepare itself to welcome this mass of people whom the Nietzschean elites have tried to exterminate culturally, to reduce to subhumans. Nietzschean philosophy is what a madhouse would adopt as its common culture if the mad had power. But the elites are mad, and they drive the people mad in “this world that makes us mad.” It is not a question of becoming mad in order to evangelize. It is a question of finding the right way to present the Gospel to a population steeped in extreme subjectivism, for which it is not responsible.
Concretely, it is not a question of abolishing the indissolubility of marriage or dissolving real marriages, but of understanding that there are few real marriages in the Christian sense of the word. A young couple gets married in church to please their grandmothers, but it is understood that they will divorce if they want to, that they will not have children or perhaps will have them in ten or fifteen years, that they will not commit themselves to strict fidelity, and that their marriage ultimately has little to do with any union with Jesus Christ. They were baptized, but did not receive substantial catechesis and do not go to Mass. If we say that such a couple is apparently married but, in reality, is not, in the Christian and even human sense of the word in virtually all civilizations, we are probably saying nothing but the truth. Ecclesiastical courts, which are sometimes asked to declare such unions null and void, examine the possible lack of consent. The notion is valid, but there may be added confusion here. A degree of awareness and thoughtful freedom is required which, if applied elsewhere, would allow any contract to be broken. No. The lack of consent here consists in an inability to simply conceive of the moral obligation resulting from a contract, the ethical norm resulting from simple human nature, the sacrifices that necessarily accompany the seriousness of a choice, and generally the fact that the individual is neither the supreme legitimate authority, nor the sovereign legislator, nor the creator of the order of beings, and that the philosophy which says that everything is fiction is simply a fiction which drives one mad. If the West has lost power, it is because it has gone mad. It has not lost faith. It has lost reason. When it regains reason, it will regain faith. That is why it needs a cultural revolution and a “new humanist synthesis.” In the meantime, evangelization must accompany the rediscovery of reason. That being said, the solution to practical pastoral problems must obviously be very flexible. But it would be absurd to conclude that faith and morality would become elastic.
(5) The Liturgical Question
Liturgy does not seem to have been central to the thinking and life of Francis I. It was obviously a fundamental and salutary practice for him, but also something that was taken for granted, and his spontaneous questioning focused on other subjects and problems. It seems that he only really addressed the issue in relation to the traditionalist problem, which can be seen either as a negative but benign phenomenon, or as a minority but legitimate component, or as a deviation that calls into question the unity of government, worship, and even faith.
Clearly, at the beginning of his pontificate, Francis I had nothing against traditionalists, even the most extreme ones, who were nevertheless sedevacantists. During the Holy Year 2016, he even granted the latter the right to validly administer the sacraments. Then the relationship deteriorated. Here again, it is possible that this “traditionalism,” which gradually appeared negative to him, was above all American “traditionalism.” The traditionalist problem thus became one dimension of the overall problem of the spiritual geopolitics of the time. The question arises, moreover, outside Catholicism and even Christianity. The liturgical question would therefore depend on the traditionalist question, which itself could only be analyzed as one aspect of the relationship between Pope Francis I and the US. It is not very easy for a South American, especially an Argentinean, of modest origins and patriotic, who loves the people, to love the US, perceived as an imperial power, a plutocratic oligarchy unconcerned with social issues, whose influence is very negative, promoting both a secularized culture that became Nietzschean and almost nihilistic, and an evangelical Protestant culture, whose relationship with a liberal world that has become nihilistic is highly ambiguous. Francis did not seem to have been very interested in the United States, any more than in Europe. It was almost as if he had written them off, focusing all his energy on the more dynamic, more sympathetically “poor” and less corrupt parts of the world. It also seems that Jorge Bergoglio had retained a burning emotional memory of his youth. This could be summed up by recalling his remark to a member of the upper middle class: “How much do you pay your maid?” The Catholic “Rad Trads,” reputed to be bourgeois, supporters of liberal capitalism, imperialism, militarism, unchallenged authority (clerical without synodality), supporters of a liturgy reputed to be inaccessible to the uncultured masses, suspicious or hostile toward Vatican II, cold toward the conciliar papacy, and, on top of that, having children ” like rabbits,” etc., ended up representing in his eyes the quintessence of the detestable. Since their rallying point was the Mass of St. Pius V, the temptation was strong to ban it in order to disperse them, reduce them to obedience, or force them out of the Church.
Unfortunately, I fear that this pontificate, now at its end, never considered the question in itself, in its own mystery, rather than from extrinsic points of view. Not being a theologian, I would simply like to present it here from a philosophical point of view, while honestly indicating my personal position, which is that of an ordinary parishioner who attends the liturgy of Paul VI, but who is a good Latinist by training and who, moreover, regularly meditates by reading Dom Guéranger’s The Liturgical Year, which is a masterpiece.
At the Council of Trent, I am told, two books were constantly open on two lecterns: the Bible and the Summa Theologica of St. Thomas Aquinas. The Roman liturgy of St. Pius V is extremely ontological. The faithful who allow themselves to be carried away enter into the mystery of the divine Being. This does not mean that it is not “subjective.” St. Thomas was a disciple of St. Augustine, “the first of modern men,” and all these people had his Confessions as their bedside book. Nevertheless, Descartes, then Kant, and to a certain extent the mathematical sciences, shattered the great classical-Christian humanist synthesis, which in the 16th century Baroque period had still shone with new light, thanks to great minds such as Francisco Suarez. But the “moderns” gained the upper hand. Hence the flood of “isms”: idealism, materialism, rationalism, naturalism, liberalism.
After the anti-Christian polemic of the 18th century, the French Revolution, Europeanized by the armies of Napoleon I, persecuted the Church and, above all, shook it up and put it on the defensive. Pius IX in Quanta Cura and the Syllabus condemned all these “isms,” but even if he had wanted to, he could not have destroyed them. In truth, one can only destroy what one replaces. It was necessary to face the facts: the “isms” had supplanted Christian humanism and formed a rival humanist synthesis that claimed to be superior. Leo XIII decided that the defensive had exhausted its virtues and that little more could be added to it. He decided to go back on the offensive. The crisis of faith was a crisis of reason. It was necessary to rebuild a new rational humanist synthesis and, to do so, to draw on the last one that had given full satisfaction, because it did not succumb to the charm of all these “isms” without excluding questioning of the subjects and problems to which they related. That is why, in the encyclical Aeterni Patris, at the beginning of his pontificate in 1879, he recommended the study of St. Thomas Aquinas. The realistic theory of knowledge, the knowledge of being, the deeply rethought Aristotelian conceptuality, the hylomorphism so valuable in anthropology, rational eudemonism in ethics, etc. Karol Wojtyla, who was a Thomist, believed that the philosophical renaissance of Catholicism, despite magnificent efforts and beautiful results, had not produced the immortal fruits that would have been necessary for the intellectual initiative to be taken up again for good and for reason to return decisively to Christ. It was necessary to integrate not only the sciences, but also subjectivity and freedom as rational self-determination. Neither Kant, Hegel, nor Nietzsche could provide a functional equivalent to Aristotle.
To serve the theology of a religion of peace and faith, we need a philosophy of peace, a reason for peace, not a philosophy of war or a reason for war, inaugurated by “doubt” or its substitutes. Theologies built on the great German philosophies were undermined by this fatal contradiction. For its part, Thomism was much more than the “chosisme,” the “Meccano” of textbooks, that its opponents liked to mock and caricature. Nevertheless, it was no longer enough. It was undoubtedly better to be modestly content with something a little old but that worked well, rather than to seek more modern vehicles that led to heresy. Wojtyla thus felt the need for a stronger and more coherent synthesis, which, in an original impulse, would synthesize Augustine’s first philosophy and Thomas’s metaphysics, as two great paths to God; assimilated, refuted but integrated, and transcended the great modern classics; freed reason from Cartesian “doubt,” restoring to it all the energy of questioning; found a way to conclusively unite the serenity of being and all the interiority of the mind; the balance of the golden mean and the infinity of desire; the tranquility of order and the dynamism of the vital impulse; the splendor of truth and the great gift of freedom; the power of mathematics and the organic nature of the cosmos; contemplation and life; time and eternity; finally, and even more than all of the above, faith and reason. Wojtyla might have succeeded, but he was called to other missions and, of this much-needed synthesis, he could only give the order and lay some groundwork. Benedict XVI expressed the same need twice.
It is this unfulfilled need that is reflected in the liturgical war, whether hot or cold. Saint Pius V is the Mass of being. Saint Paul VI is the Mass of the person. But the person without being (or, to be fair, not enough with being) risks becoming modern subjectivity, subjectivism, and all the other “isms” incompatible with faith. Being without the person (or, to be fair, without any more person than before) risks becoming a kind of anti-modern objectivity. Benedict XVI, wise, modest, and pragmatic, lacking a synthesis, understood that both were needed, together. “We need a new humanistic synthesis.”
It is undoubtedly because he failed to understand what his predecessor had so clearly grasped that Francis imagined he could use strong, political measures doomed to failure, because one cannot deal with a fundamental problem whose roots lie in a lack of coherence between fundamental concepts of culture, and which necessarily translates into existential or communal difficulties, by means of coercion. But we cannot fairly blame Bergoglio for not having found what Wojtyla was looking for and what Ratzinger regretted had not yet been found.
The negative reactions to Francis’ decisions on all these topics seem to stem from a lack of clear explanation, whether on China, Islam, migration, Abu Dhabi, or the Mass. If and when explanations were given, they were very poor, and often expressions of subjective emotions, or politically and culturally correct platitudes. Yet, on synodality, what prevented the Holy See from explaining in a few words and clearly what a mixed regime consists of, and that the pope obviously remains the pope? That absolute things are absolute, eternal things are eternal, supernatural things are supernatural? Most thought in petto that the Church was lacking in clarity of mind, suffering confusion and vagueness in verbal expression. Such blunders obscured many great merits. Which leads us to the 6th and last reflection.
(6) To be a Pope: Quite a Difficult Job
Who am I to judge? But it seems to me that these first five reflections lead us to conclude that Pope Bergoglio accomplished significant work that does not in itself deserve harsh and severe criticism.
On the contrary, unless we are seriously mistaken in our interpretation, there are extremely fruitful insights and a very intelligent overall political orientation. However, it must be noted that this pope succeeded in stirring up opposition among the Catholic people and the clergy that cannot be fairly reduced to the resistance of the evil spirit or other base motives. True saints are often persecuted, but not all those who are persecuted are necessarily saints. The truth seems to be that Francis I was a good pope, but not a very good leader.
In a recent article, American journalist Edward Pentin coldly lists the tasks that Leo XIV will have to tackle; such an article would have us rate Francis’ performance poorly. But from my limited professional experience, I have gotten the opinion that good appointments can balance many flaws.
Many liked Francis because he fought for social justice, had a loving heart and cared for the poor, but many business elites despised him because he was not very smart in economics, and talked as a moralizer who seemed to have no idea of the constraints on a decision-maker. This kind of discussion proves how we badly need, at this time, a high-quality development of the Church’s social doctrine, which will inevitably be criticized, but not despised.
If we then take a look at social media in the West, we get the impression (which is confirmed by many facts, particularly electoral ones) that the people have come to hate their elites, despise them, and have completely lost confidence in them. And then we look for how Francis was talked about on these same networks. Frequently, he shared the fate of the hated elites. He was denounced as the pope in the service of the globalist elites: his support for migration policies, his conformism during the health crisis, his green conformism, his pointed nods to the LGBT lobby, his refusal to defend Europe against the danger of Islam. This calls for some remarks. First, it is clear that the key interests of the “secular globalist” were (a) to keep running the liberal global economics as it is and to win a class struggle by weakening the peoples in all possible ways; (b) to knock Russia out of Ukraine; (c) to back the Zionist policies in Gaza. Second, Francis’ stances were obviously not in line with these groups on these issues, which were fundamental to them. The agreement on some points resulted from very different principles. (d) The lesson to be learned from these misadventures is that if such a concordance happens, the difference in principles must be clearly pointed out, otherwise the people will believe there is complicity between the papacy and the enemies of the people.
If the people no longer trust their elites, the Church had better distance herself and be critical of the mainstream narrative, which these people believe to be pure propaganda produced by liars and oppressors. She should present herself as the voice of reason, allowing for a genuine debate. To regain the initiative, she should encourage those who are moving forward—not only by accompanying good people who have more heart than reason, and not to seem perfectly happy with a utopian moralism from which we might think we could deduce a priori pseudo-solutions, but to work wisely through a methodical and scientific development of the social doctrine of the Church.
With varying degrees of restraint and reserve, many in the clergy accused Pope Francis of establishing almost a personal despotism within the Church, ignoring canon law, speaking only of synodality but deciding everything personally, by motu proprio, surprise interviews, or even in a few words at the elevator door. This “despotism” was, they said, tempered only by the anarchy produced by his impulsive behavior and his frenzy for regulations. Obviously, charisma should not sideline regular hierarchical functioning and the law.
His intuitions were good, most certainly, but he did not know how to transform them into clear and unequivocally communicable systems of ideas, so that everyone had their own interpretation. No one was sure how to understand. All interpretations seem plausible, producing confusion.
Many in the clergy protested against what they saw as a distortion of the virtue of mercy, which would transform it into a rhetorical stratagem to justify and satisfy, in a demagogic way, the demands of the world and its moral relativism, leaving aside doctrines of moral law, sin, penance, sacrifice, and all the other notions related to redemption. The criticism levelled at Francis was reminiscent, in its intensity, of that which struck the Jesuits in the 17th century. It was perhaps in order to respond indirectly, but firmly, to these criticisms that the pope allowed the preparatory stages of a possible canonization process to proceed for Blaise Pascal, a staunch opponent, in his Letters to a Provincial, of the lax morality preached by the Jesuits of his time. (Francis I, Apostolic Letter Sublimitas et miseria, for the 400th anniversary of the birth of Blaise Pascal. One recalls Pascal’s fierce irony directed at Father Baumy, SJ (1564-1649): “Ecce qui tollit peccata mundi. Behold him who takes away the sins of the world… Here is a completely new redemption”).
In the confusion, the ultra-progressives, who have never renounced any of their pet ideas, even when they are nothing more than old chestnuts, were pushing their agenda without (apparently) encountering any resistance, while denunciation and repression seemed unleashed on those who were too free or too traditional. Overall, this gave the impression that Rome now favored a relaxation of morals (which indeed was not the case, cf. 4) and intended to depart from the traditional moral doctrine of the Church in order to pander to the transgressive laxity of the relativist culture of the Western world. The pope himself said that there are already Protestant churches in Germany and that there was no need to imitate the original. Fair enough. But then why did he allow everything to drift? It is obvious that if such drift were to continue, a schism would have occurred, as in the Anglican Church. But did the pope really allow it? A leader is forced to take into account the irrational exuberance of the media and proceed with discretion, while the public judges everything without reflecting on the complexities of the situation.
I will conclude with two sentences. Francis’s magisterium is valuable, sometimes highly original, and deserves to be studied—but above all explained and translated into logical terms. At the end of the day, these years, paradoxically, strengthened the faith in the Church as firmly held in Christ’s hand: credo unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam.
