Latest news with #JesusofNazareth
News18
17-05-2025
- Politics
- News18
Uganda President's Son Live-Tweets Torture From His Basement
Last Updated: General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, son of Uganda's President Museveni, shared a video on X showing activist Edward Ssebuufu's torture. Kainerugaba is likely Museveni's successor. The son of Uganda President Yoweri Museveni, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, has shared a video on X displaying the ordeal of a torture victim under dictatorship. In the video, the suffering of Edward Ssebuufu, a prominent opposition activist, was shown to the world by Kainerugaba, the Telegraph reported. Notably, Muhoozi Kainerugaba (51) is Commander of Uganda's Armed Forces and the man most likely to succeed his 80-year-old father as President. The sons of the dictator have often been accused of violent behaviour – Col Muammar Gaddafi's one-time heir, Saif al-Islam, carries an indictment for alleged crimes against humanity – yet only Kainerugaba has apparently chosen to live-post his cruelty to 1.1 million social media followers. In those posts, Kainerugaba's X account revels in Ssebuufu's agony and degradation, describing how the prisoner was supposedly 'crying" and 'urinating", before adding, 'I still have to castrate him." Kainerugaba, received a bachelors degree in political science from Nottingham University in 1997 and passed out of Sandhurst in 2000. He proclaims his goal to ascend to the pinnacle of power. advetisement Kainerugaba's previous outbursts have already earned him notoriety. He has in many ways praised Vladimir Putin as a 'hero", even offered to send Ugandan troops to fight for Russia. Besides he had also threatened to invade neighbouring Kenya ('two weeks to capture Nairobi"); and had also expressed his desire to marry Giorgia Meloni, the Italian Prime Minister. The background on his X homepage carries an image of Robert Powell playing Jesus Christ in the 1977 miniseries Jesus of Nazareth. Ssebuufu, Head of Security for Uganda's opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi, disappeared after being arrested near the capital, Kampala, on April 27. Four days later, Kainerugaba's X account announced that Ssebuufu was in his captivity. This followed a series of tweets glorying in ordeal of the prisoner. 'The beards were the first thing the boys removed. After he finished crying and urinating," read one post. Watch India Pakistan Breaking News on CNN-News18. Get breaking news, in-depth analysis, and expert perspectives on everything from geopolitics to diplomacy and global trends. Stay informed with the latest world news only on News18. Download the News18 App to stay updated! tags : uganda Location : Uganda First Published: May 17, 2025, 12:37 IST
Yahoo
14-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
The dictator's son livetweeting torture from his basement
The man's eyes are filled with terror, his shoulders bare, his once prominent beard has gone. Reduced to a state of desperation, he seems to be imploring a tormentor for mercy. In some dictatorships, torture occurs furtively in underground cells, but the ordeal of Edward Ssebuufu, a prominent opposition activist, shows that Uganda under President Yoweri Museveni is brazenly different. Ssebuufu's suffering was not just displayed to the world but posted live on X (formerly Twitter), proudly and boisterously, in all its stages of sadism. This was done not by an over-zealous secret policeman but by the social media account of the dictator's Sandhurst-educated son, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba. And the son is not some marginalised embarrassment but the Commander of Uganda's Armed Forces and the man most likely to succeed his 80-year-old father as President. The sons of despots have often been accused of brutish behaviour – Col Muammar Gaddafi's one-time heir, Saif al-Islam, carries an indictment for alleged crimes against humanity – yet only Kainerugaba has apparently chosen to live-post his cruelty to 1.1 million social media followers. In those posts, Kainerugaba's X account revels in Ssebuufu's agony and degradation, describing how the prisoner was supposedly 'crying' and 'urinating', before adding: 'I still have to castrate him.' Kainerugaba, who graduated in political science from Nottingham University in 1997 and passed out of Sandhurst in 2000, proclaims his ambition to ascend to the pinnacle of power. That prospect might chill many Ugandans who remember the blood-soaked reign of another soldier, Idi Amin, yet the reality is that Kainerugaba has every chance of achieving his goal. When old age eventually strikes down Museveni, who seized the presidency nearly 40 years ago, the son's command of the army would place him in pole position to ensure a hereditary succession in a country that calls itself a Republic. 'I would really worry about the prospect of him becoming President,' says one Ugandan journalist with calculated understatement. 'But when I set aside my personal feelings and analyse it objectively, I find that there's a real possibility of this happening.' Kainerugaba's previous outbursts have already earned him notoriety. He has variously praised Vladimir Putin as a 'hero'; offered to send Ugandan troops to fight for Russia; threatened to invade neighbouring Kenya ('two weeks to capture Nairobi'); and announced his desire to marry Giorgia Meloni, the Italian Prime Minister. His profile page on X carries an image of Robert Powell playing Jesus Christ in the 1977 miniseries Jesus of Nazareth. If Kainerugaba, 51, represents the future of Uganda, his latest excess may be the most instructive. Ssebuufu, Head of Security for Uganda's opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi (better known by his stage name Bobi Wine), disappeared after being arrested near the capital, Kampala, on April 27. Four days later, Kainerugaba's X account announced that Ssebuufu was 'in my basement'. Then came a stream of tweets glorying in the torment of the prisoner. 'The beards were the first thing the boys removed. After he finished crying and urinating,' reads one post. 'If you see Eddie's head now he looks like an egg. Totally clean,' says the next. Then: 'Eddie started crying as soon as the boys grabbed him.' Kainerugaba's account describes how the prisoner was being forced to defer to an image of the President. 'Eddie is looking very smart these days. The boys have tuned him well. He salutes Mzee's [Museveni's] picture every day before breakfast.' Over and again, the posts under Kainerugaba's name threaten to inflict the same ordeal on Wine, derisively referred to as 'Kabobi'. 'Next is Kabobi!' says one post. 'I have never joked in my life. I don't know why people think my tweets are jokes.' Whether Ssebuufu's torture was taking place in the basement of Kainerugaba's own house in Kampala is unclear, though one post says as much. The regime has a network of locations, known without irony as 'safe houses', where opposition activists are regularly detained and abused. Ssebuufu may have been held in one of them. On May 5, eight days after his arrest, he appeared in court in the town of Masaka, 80 miles south-west of Kampala, unable to stand without help. Ssebuufu, also known as Eddie Mutwe, was charged with robbery and remanded in custody in Masaka prison, where over 1,000 inmates occupy a jail designed for half that number. Two days later, Wine was allowed to visit Ssebuufu. Afterwards the opposition leader, visibly shaken, described exactly what he had learnt of his friend's suffering. 'We saw him and he was tortured very badly,' said Wine. 'He was tortured for three days and on the third day Muhoozi Kainerugaba came himself personally and beat him, tortured him, and his men tortured Eddie Mutwe in the presence of Muhoozi. He was electrocuted, he was waterboarded and so many terrible things happened to him.' Wine's description of Ssebuufu's ordeal tallied with Kainerugaba's social media posts. 'He was forced to salute Museveni's picture every day,' said the opposition leader. 'He was stripped naked and, later on, when he was given a piece of cloth, he was only given a Museveni T-shirt.' Lawyers representing Ssebuufu were allowed to visit him and confirmed his torture, though without mentioning Kainerugaba's personal involvement. 'He has been over-tortured for all the days he has been in detention, in irregular detention,' said Magellan Kazibwe, one of Ssebuufu's lawyers. 'He has told me and my colleague that he was tortured every day, five times, and they were beating him using these wires of electricity. They were electrocuting him. They were squeezing him, including his private parts. He is in great pain. He has not accessed any doctor up to now. He is in a very appalling and bad health state.' Ssebuufu was later reported to have received treatment at Masaka prison's medical facility. The fate of his security chief will be bitterly familiar to Wine, who endured 10 days of beatings and torture in military barracks in 2018. His injuries were so severe that he had to leave Uganda for medical care in the United States. When he ran against Museveni in the last presidential election, Wine was arrested in the middle of the campaign. As supporters mounted street protests demanding his release, the security forces opened fire with live rounds, killing at least 54 people in Kampala in November 2020 and arresting thousands more. On polling day, January 15 2021, Wine was placed under house arrest while the regime disconnected Uganda from the internet and announced a rigged result, giving him 34 per cent of the vote and handing Museveni victory with 58 per cent. Now, Wine is preparing to run against Museveni once again in the election due in January next year, which will also mark the 40th anniversary of the President capturing Kampala as a rebel leader and taking power in January 1986. In the first decade of his rule, Museveni managed to stabilise Uganda after years of ruinous civil war and the dictatorships of Idi Amin and Milton Obote. At that time, Britain and America regarded him as a reformer who deserved their support. They continued to indulge Museveni even as he twice rewrote the constitution to prolong his grip on power, first by abolishing term limits and then removing the age limit. Even now, as Museveni resorts to torture and repression against his opponents – and Kainerugaba waits in the wings – Uganda still receives £31.6 million of British aid. Wine, a musician and actor raised in one of Kampala's poorest areas, has built an opposition movement, the National Unity Platform, that carries the hopes of Ugandans who strive to escape their dictatorship. The agony of Edward Ssebuufu reminds them of the risks of defying Museveni. The dictator's son, who appeared to glory in the suffering of a human being, reminds Ugandans of the rule that may await them. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
New Statesman
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New Statesman
Martin Freeman Q&A: 'My childhood hero was Jesus as portrayed by Robert Powell'
Illustration by Kristian Hammerstad Martin Freeman was born in Aldershot in 1971. He is an award-winning actor performing both on screen and on stage. He is best known for his role of Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit film series which won him the 2013 MTV Movie Award for the Best Hero. What's your earliest memory? My earliest memory is having an asthma attack and having to go the doctor's. I was still making my mum and sister laugh. Now, that's showbiz. Who are your heroes? My childhood hero was Jesus as portrayed by Robert Powell in the TV series Jesus of Nazareth. I don't have a hero now – just people I really admire. Paul McCartney, there's one. What book last changed your thinking? I generally get my thinking changed, or challenged, in all kinds of ways: conversations, interviews, art. What's Left? How the Left Lost Its Way by Nick Cohen was one book that changed my thinking. What political figure do you look up to? Growing up, Tony Benn was very big in our house. I love his diaries. Aside from his skill as a parliamentarian, his humanity really comes through in his writing. In which time and place, other than your own, would you like to live? There are lots of other times that I'd love to poke my nose into. The English Civil War, Victorian London (of course), Judea circa AD 32 to catch a part of an interesting story. What would be your Mastermind specialist subject? My Mastermind subject… tough one. Maybe Stevie Wonder in the Seventies? Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe What TV show could you not live without? I think The Sopranos is truly wonderful, a work of art. Peep Show is my comfort food. Too many others to drone on about now. Who would paint your portrait? I would not hate the pop artist Peter Blake painting me. What's your theme tune? I wish I had a theme tune. If I do, it changes too often to make it a theme. What's the best piece of advice you've ever received? I remember my mum saying to my brother Tim when he was in his early twenties: 'Before you know it you'll be 30. Then you'll be 40. Then you blink and you're 50.' She was basically telling him to get on with it. I definitely know what she meant. I haven't always followed it as well as I might have. What's currently bugging you? What's bugging me? That's hilarious – as if there could be less than 12 things bugging me at any given time. Let's say staff in shops not looking up from their phones. Or people dawdling along London streets, glued to their phones. Or people getting their political information from 20 second clips on their phones… you get the picture. What single thing would make your life better? A 30-hour day would make things easier, for sure. As would the blanket banning of leaf blowers that sound like a supersonic aircraft. When were you happiest? I'm very happy when I'm away with my family. Or frankly, at home with my family, being stupid and laughing. In another life, what job might you have chosen? I would love to have had the talent to be a musician. Are we all doomed? We're not doomed, no. No more than we ever were, I don't think. Martin Freeman will be performing in 'The Fifth Step' at Soho Place from 12 May [See also: David Attenborough at 99: 'Life will almost certainly find a way'] Related
Asharq Al-Awsat
25-04-2025
- Politics
- Asharq Al-Awsat
The Next Pope: Kerygma or Catechism?
In 2013 when a little-known cardinal from Argentina was elected the Pope of the Catholic Church, taking the title of Francis, many wondered in which direction he might walk in Saint Peter's shoes. The election came as a surprise in the wake of the unprecedented decision of Pope Benedict XVI to abdicate the pontificate. Benedict, a German had been revealed as a conservative pontiff focused on the doctrine in what he called 'a time of upheavals.' That was the time when globalism was in the ascendancy and all religions appeared to be on the defensive in the face of political and cultural forces advocating multiculturalism and secularism. In his book 'Hope in a Time of Upheavals' Benedict spoke of 'the three myths' that threaten mankind: science, progress and freedom which, transformed into absolutes pretend to replace religious faith. (I reviewed the book in Asharq Al-Awsat at the time.) Once elected, Pope Francis turned out to be at the other end of the spectrum from Benedict as far as their respective world views were concerned. In a sense Benedict, steering away from the quotidian of politics, focused on the core doctrine of his faith, powerfully spelled out in his other book 'Jesus of Nazareth'. (Again, I reviewed it in Asharq Al-Awsat). Pope Francis, however, quickly showed that he wished to play a political role in the hope of injecting his religious values in the global debate. Leaving the doctrine to his predecessor he used catechism or the flexible rituals of the faith as the template for his political positions which he spelled out in a book formed by interviews with two Italian journalists. (I reviewed the book in Asharq Al-Awsat in 2014) Because Francis was the first Jesuit priest to become Pope, it was not surprising that, true to his evangelist mission as a 'soldier for Christ,' his emphasis was on securing the largest possible audience for the Catholic Church rather than defending the strictest form of doctrine in an age of cultural relativism. He learned much from his most recent predecessors: John Paul II and Benedict XVI. The former emphasized the political dimension of his mission, especially in the struggle to help central and Eastern Europe bring down the Iron Curtain. When the Cold War ended with the disintegration of the Soviet Empire, John Paul II was among history's victors, his doctrinal conservatism conveniently pushed aside. In contrast, Benedict XVI, a theologian by training and temperament, put the emphasis on doctrinal issues in a brave attempt to save the Catholic Church from the ravages of political correctness, wokeism and multiculturalism. As a result, many Catholics did not warm up to him while non-Catholics found him anachronistic. Francis decided to look to John Paul II rather than Benedict XVI as a model. The difference was that John Paul II was a political Pope on the right of the center while Francis turned out to be left of center. That encouraged some of Francis's critics on the right to portray him as a fellow traveler or even a communist. In his book, Francis admitted that he was attracted to communist themes, if not actual policies. In fact, the only political book he cites is 'Our Word and Proposals' by the Argentinian communist writer Leonidas Barletta. 'It helped my political education,' Francis said in his book. Francis deepened his 'progressive' profile with a list of his favorite authors, including German poet Friedrich Hölderlin, Italian novelist Alessandro Manzoni, Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Belgian mystic Joseph Maréchal, and, last but not least, Argentina's own literary icon, Jorge Luis Borges, none of whom could be branded as leftists. Francis regarded 'liberal capitalism' as immoral and said he found some sympathy for the 'liberation theology' of the Latin American guerrilla-priests of the 1960s, while insisting that he was 'never a communist.' In fact, he included communism, along with unbridled capitalism, Nazism and liberalism in his list of totalitarian ideologies. And, yet, he points at secularism as the principal enemy of faith. 'There is a denial of God due to secularism, the selfish egoism of humanity,' he asserted. Throughout his pontificate Francis wrestled with the 'social issues' that have dominated the public debate in the West in recent decades, among them abortion, birth control, divorce, gay and lesbian marriages, sexual abuse by church staff and prelates, and celibacy for priests. Here, Francis faced a real difficulty. If he had simply reaffirmed the traditional positions of the Church-as Benedict XVI did, he would have weakened his status as a 'progressive Pope.' If, on the other hand, he had adopted the 'progressive' position, he would have antagonized many in his flock. Francis dealt with this dilemma in the classical Jesuit style of seizing the bull by both horns. Echoing Benedict, he asserted that what mattered was the core narrative of Christianity, the technical term for which is kerygma. Beyond that we have what Francis called 'catechism,' which, in the sense he used it, concerns behavior and social organization. Interestingly, he seldom mentioned dogma, the bridge between kerygma and catechism. Thus, issues such as abortion, gay marriage, and the Eucharist for divorced individuals, do not affect the kerygma. As for celibacy for priests, it is 'a discipline, not a matter of doctrine,' he asserted, and thus could be abandoned in the future. A year before his death Francis published a pamphlet on literature, advising his flock to read as much as possible, even works by non-believers or adversaries of the faith. This was a bold move by a man who had inherited the office that created the infamous Index of books to ban and burn which had remained in force until 1966. In addition to being a 'progressive,' Francis was also an optimist. 'The moral conscience of different cultures progresses,' he asserted, reminding us how such 'evils' as incest, slavery, exploitation, for example, were once, in different phases of human history, tolerated by all cultures and even religions but are now rejected with revulsion by all. But is human 'moral progress,' if it exists at all, as linear as the Pope Francis seemed to believe? Francis' intellectual landscape was dominated by ideas that could be traced back to ancient Athens rather than Jerusalem. He was more comfortable in the company of Aristotle than the Church Fathers. The only one he quotes is the quasi-Aristotelian St. Augustine, ignoring the contrasting positions of Jerome and Tertullian, among others. Is the church, indeed any formal religious organization, necessary for salvation? Francis couldn't but answer with a resounding 'yes.' However, he weakened that 'yes' by recalling that, as a young man, he dreamt of becoming a missionary to Japan, where Christianity had managed to survive and to some extent even prosper without any priests and no organization for over two centuries. I don't know whether Francis had read Japanese novelist Shūsaku Endo's fascinating novel 'Silence', which deals precisely with that subject. Endo shows that, even under the worst conditions of torture and despair, human beings look to religious faith for a measure of certainty about right and wrong and good and evil. Today, the problem is that religion, in most of its forms, is trying to imitate philosophy, which is the realm of doubt, or replace ideology as a means of organizing political action. Francis repeated the assertion by André Malraux, that the 21st century will be 'religious or it will not at all.' The question is: religion in which of its many forms? There are those who see kerygma as a poetic conceit, focusing on catechism, or its Islamic version the Shari'a, as a means of social and political control and domination. Then there are those who, having asserted the kerygma, allow the elastic to be pulled in the opposite direction as far as possible. The problem is that, at some point, the elastic might snap. Will the next Pope continue Francis's 'progressive' agenda or return to Benedict's 'traditional' path? An Italian proverb says 'morto un papa, se ne fa un altro' (Death of a Pope, makes another!) Since a majority of the 135 cardinals of the conclave mandated to elect the next Pope were appointed by Francis one might assume that they would choose someone to continue his 'progressive' legacy. However, taking Saint Mathews' advice to 'neither presume nor despair', one cannot be sure. The global mood has changed from the time Francis was chosen and Benedict's Zeitgeist seems to be making a comeback in a world disappointed with the empty promises of progressivism. So, don't be surprised if the cardinals will have a tough time choosing between kerygma and catechism.
Russia Today
25-04-2025
- Politics
- Russia Today
Pope Francis was a great man who ultimately made one terrible mistake
When a great man and leader of the Roman-Catholic Church – and beyond it – like Pope Francis dies, it may seem almost impious to speak or write about politics. But in his case, we know for certain that it simply means doing what he told us to do. For one of his fundamental teachings was that we have a religious and moral – not merely a civic – duty to engage in politics. He made this clear, for instance, in one of his major statements, the 2020 encyclical Fratelli Tutti (All Brothers). There, he spelled out the pronouncedly broad and political – not merely intimate, small-scale, or private – meaning of the story of the Good Samaritan, one of the most famous parables taught by the founder of all types of Christianity, Jesus of Nazareth. In Fratelli Tutti, Francis stressed that the Good Samaritan story 'summons us to rediscover our vocation as citizens of our respective nations and of the entire world, builders of a new social bond' in order 'to direct society to the pursuit of the common good.' That is about as far away as you can get from the intellectual platitude and ethical cop-out of religion-is-just-a-private-matter. And that was a good thing, too. Because, as Francis made clear time and again, he – rightly – saw our world in deep social, ecological, and, fundamentally, spiritual crisis. If you share his belief or not, it is important to understand that political engagement to save this world, for him, was a matter of survival of not just a species and its much-abused planet, but of God's creation. There is something else we should remember about this late pope. He was known for being both genuinely relatable – especially with the poor, weak, abused, sinful (his last major meeting was with JD Vance, after all), and troubled – and, at the same time, capable of harsh rebuke and tough determination. Having worked as a bouncer in his youth and later as a Jesuit taskmaster, he knew how to handle the gathering of careerist, vain, pushy, and scheming egos that the higher Church also is. He was a decent and mostly kind man, but no push-over. And yet, with all his assertiveness, he was also humble, not in an ostentatious but a substantial manner: the kind of humility that makes you give up on many of the lifestyle perks that have corrupted the papacy and instead wash the feet of prison inmates. Or admit that you are not the one to judge, as once when commenting on a priest who was said to be gay. Think about it: it is true, obviously; and, by the standards of tradition, it is at the same time something sensationally extraordinary for a pope to say about a priest. For, remember, the Roman-Catholic Church, is not a fake democracy – as secular states usually are now – but an unabashed absolute, if elective, monarchy. Against that background – Francis's instructions to engage with politics and his fundamental humility – two simple questions make sense: What is the political meaning of his tenure as pope between 2013 and 2025? And where did he succeed and where did he fail? A full disclosure won't do any harm either: I am writing about this pope as someone raised as a Roman-Catholic yet now largely lapsed. Largely, because, in reality, with something like a Catholic upbringing, about which I am far from complaining, 'there are,' as the Russians wisely say about another experience that shapes you for life, 'no formers.' Perhaps, that explains why I have always felt much sympathy for him. Although, come to think of it, that was due to his politics. Regarding those politics, for starters, let's note a basic piece of context that, however, is often overlooked: It's commonly noted that Francis was a multiple first: first pope from Latin America, first Jesuit, first one not from Europe for well over a millennium. But there was yet another important first: even if the Cold War between – very roughly – the capitalist West and the socialist-Communist Soviet camp ended in the late 1980s and Francis became pope in 2013, he was, actually, the first substantially post-Cold War pope. Counterintuitive as that fact may be, it is not hard to explain it. It was the result of the de facto rule that popes get elected when they are old and likely to be set in their ways and – usually, not always – serve until death. Specifically, once the Cold War had ended, the very Polish and very conservative John-Paul II – a quintessential Cold War pope – stayed in office until 2005. His successor, the not merely conservative but leadenly reactionary Benedict XVI from Germany was, in essence, the Angela Merkel of the Vatican: the one you call when, in reality, everything must change, but you are in obstinate denial about it. And did Benedict fulfill those expectations! It was really only after rigid Benedict abdicated and, in effect, retired – the first pope to do so in more than half a millennium – that there was an opening for finally moving the Church beyond this sorry state of stagnation. And Francis, once elected to his own surprise, certainly did his best – or, as his many critics and opponents would gripe, worst – to use that opportunity. Apart from setting an example by his personal modesty – for instance, just two rooms in a Vatican hostel, a comparatively simple pectoral cross, no flashy cape or dainty red slippers, and, finally, orders for a fairly simple coffin, lying-in-state, and burial – Francis tackled major unresolved issues inside the Church, such as finance scandals and corruption, sexual abuse, and the prevalence of rule by clique and intrigue. On these issues, he certainly did not universally succeed. Regarding child abuse by clericals, his reactions and actions were honest, well-intentioned, and sometimes unprecedented and consequential: as when he, in essence, forced a mass resignation of bishops in Chile and defrocked a truly demonic US cardinal for his revolting crimes and sins. But his record remains mixed. He himself, to his credit, ended up admitting his 'grave mistakes' in this crucial area. Victims of clerical child abusers and critics find that his efforts did not go far enough. Francis could neither defeat nor eradicate the hardy networks, lobbies, and plots of the Vatican and the Church leadership more broadly. In particular, the – surprise, surprise – conservative US cardinals form a powerful, mean lobby. But to be fair, no single person could have cleaned up these Augean Stables. That would take a miracle, one that did not take place under this pope. Yet Francis did have an impact. His challenge was sometimes fierce, and the resistance it provoked proves that he hit a nerve. This, clearly, is an issue which will be decided, if ever, in the future. In that respect, note that kind, smiling Francis was worldly and tough enough to promote – where he could (an important caveat) – like-minded men to high office. As he installed the preponderant majority of the 135 or 136 cardinals who will elect his successor, his policies might be continued. Yet Church politics is less transparent than the Trump White House and much more complex. Nothing is certain. Yet what about the world beyond the upper ranks of the Church? That is, after all, clearly what Francis – the pope with a personal cross that depicted Jesus as the Good Shepherd – cared about the most. For practical purposes and to greatly simplify, think of that world-beyond-peak-Church as consisting of two concentric circles: the inner yet large circle consists of currently about 1.4 billion Roman Catholics globally, and the outer, even larger one of everyone else in a world population over 8 billion. There, Francis pursued two great lines: He clearly sought to finally do justice to the fact that demographically and in terms of commitment and dynamism, Roman-Catholicism's center of gravity has inexorably shifted away from Europe and, roughly speaking, to the Global South-plus: Latin America, Africa, and Asia, too. Indeed, over the last half-century, Africa and Asia have been the only two regions where the increase in the number of Catholics has exceeded population growth. When elected, he immediately pointed out – with a hardly hidden edge, I believe – that his cardinal brothers had plucked him 'from the ends of the Earth.' That was a statement in favor of those 'ends' and against the breathtaking, institutionally inbred provincialism that has made 80 percent of popes come from tiny Italy. By now, though, the cardinals who will elect the next pope come from 94 countries and less than 40 percent are from Europe, 'with a record number from Asia and Africa.' This, true globalization of the Roman-Catholic Church in its most fundamental meaning, namely as the community of its members is what Francis was in sync with as no pope before him, not even the globe-trotting John-Paul II. If the Church is wise, it will follow his example; if it is foolish – which, historically speaking, happens a lot – it will revert to Benedict XVI's futile retreat into the past. The other major policy Francis consistently pursued was – believe it or not – a form of socialism. Recall that socialism is a broader church than Marxism. Socialists, even by the narrowest, most modern definitions, existed before Marxism. If we widen the lens to ancient history, a certain rebel called Jesus, executed by the indispensable empire of his day, obviously, was one, too. Francis understood that and stuck to it. That is why The Economist sniffles at what it mislabels as his populist and Peronist leanings. In reality, the last pope was a sharp critic of populism, if understood as, say, Trumpism (or Sanderism-AOC-ism, I would add): the fake appeal to longings for justice solely to control, mobilize, and profit. The core of Francis's de facto socialist position was – as The Economist, to its credit, also admits – 'scorn for capitalism' or, to quote the Washington Post, another party organ of the global oligarchy – a strong concern for 'social justice.' Indeed. And then some. In sum, Francis was not a Marxist. He did not see eye to eye with Latin American Liberation Theology and his behavior during the right-wing dictatorship in Argentina may have been less than exemplary. But, as pope, he was, in effect, a man of the Left. He had the breadth of mind and the strength of character to reject the unfortunate recent hegemony of liberal capitalism in favor of something fairer and more moral, something worthy of humanity. In the dark post-Cold War that we are forced to inhabit, that fact made the Roman-Catholic pope one of the main forces (next to China, intriguingly) – weak as it may have been – of survival of leftwing ideals. Those tempted to underestimate such influence - as Stalin is reported to have done: 'The pope? How many divisions?' - should ask themselves where his Soviet Union is now (hint: nowhere). And yet the Church is still around. There was another issue of immense importance for our future on which he stood out by being more honest and more courageous than all too many others: Francis did repeatedly censure Israel's – and the West's – brutal slaughter of the Palestinians, using terms such as 'cruelty' and 'terror' and pointing out that what Israel is doing is not even war, but, clearly something worse. And yet, those who now claim that he condemned the Gaza Genocide are wrong, unfortunately. I wished he had, but he did not. The fact remains, painful as it may be for those who liked and respected him (such as I), that he failed to take this crucial and necessary step. The closest he came to it was the following, far too cautious statement: 'According to some experts, what is happening in Gaza has the characteristics of a genocide. It should be carefully investigated to determine whether it fits into the technical definition formulated by jurists and international bodies.' That was more than almost any other leader in the 'value-driven' West; it was also more than the studious public silence practiced by Pius XII during that other holocaust, when the Germans did not support Jews committing a genocide, as now, but – together with their many collaborators and friends – committed a genocide against Jews. But both are pitiably low bars. As the pope, that is, not just some political leader but a man with great soft power and extraordinary moral duties by design, he should, as a minimum, have condemned the genocide as being just that and told all Roman-Catholics that not opposing it in every way they can is a grave sin. He should also have excommunicated co-genocider-in-chief Joe Biden and preening neo-Catholic JD Vance. Pour encourager les autres. Francis did have a steely side. This was where the world needed him to show it most, but he did not. I like to think he would be the first to admit this fact. Because that is the way he was: great, fallible, and humble.
