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Herald Malaysia
01-05-2025
- Politics
- Herald Malaysia
Pope Francis, a ‘champion of the most marginalized': UN
The late pontiff inspires all to renew commitment to peace, human dignity, and social justice, says UN chief Guterres May 01, 2025 Images of the late Pope Francis are displayed on screens in the General Assembly ahead of a special commemorative session to pay tribute to him at UN headquarters in New York on April 29. (Photo: UN/Vatican Media) NEW YORK: United Nations Secretary General Antonio Guterres has praised the late Pope Francis as a 'champion of the most marginalized people on earth' and urged UN officials and members to carry forward his message of Francis as a "messenger of hope," Guterres reminded his listeners that it is up to them to 'carry this hope forward." Guterres made his remarks during a special commemorative session organized at the UN headquarters in New York, United States, on April 29, Vatican News reported on April 30. "As we mourn the death of Pope Francis, let us renew our commitment to peace, human dignity, and social justice - the causes to which he dedicated every moment of his extraordinary life,' Guterres died on April 21 due to a stroke followed by a cardiac arrest at the age of 88. He was interred at the Saint Mary Major Basilica in Rome on April emphasized that Francis "was a voice of community in a world of division," "a voice of mercy in a world of cruelty," and "a voice of peace in a world of war."He noted that Francis spoke about the UN's ideal of a 'united human family harmony, working not only for peace, but in peace, working not only for justice, but in a spirit of justice."He also extended the UN's condolences to the Catholic community and others around the world and hailed Francis as 'a man of faith and a bridge-builder among all faiths.' Early experiences in charity Guterres pointed out that before leading the Catholic Church for more than 12 years, Francis had decades of experience in service and good works among the poor in the slums of Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina. "These early experiences sharpened his conviction that faith must be an engine of action and change,' Guterres emphasized. Francis was an "unstoppable voice for social justice and equality," Guterres said while adding that his 2020 encyclical, Fratelli Tutti (Brothers and Sisters All), drew a straight line between greed and poverty, hunger, inequality and suffering. "While decrying the inequality that defines our globalized economy, he also warned against what he called the 'globalization of indifference,'" Guterres said. Francis' humanity and humility Guterres recalled he was struck by Francis' humanity and humility during his first meeting with the Argentinian pontiff at the Vatican in 2019."He always saw challenges through the eyes of those on the peripheries of life,' Guterres recalled while echoing Francis' message and actions of reaching out to those in the far-flung and forgotten areas of the Church and the world. Hailing Francis as a 'pilgrim of peace,' Guterres pointed out that the pope ventured to war-torn countries around the world, from Iraq to South Sudan to the Democratic Republic of Congo. He hailed Francis for decrying bloodshed and violence and pushing for reconciliation. Champion of migrants, innocent and suffering Guterres recalled Francis' first official visit as a pope to the Mediterranean island of Lampedusa in 2013 "to put a global spotlight on the desperate plight of asylum seekers and migrants." At that time, Francis warned against ''the culture of comfort, which makes us think only of ourselves, makes us insensitive to the cries of other people,'' Guterres said. The Pope also "called on all countries to welcome, promote, accompany and integrate those who,' knock on their doors, Guterres recalled. Francis also "stood with conviction for innocents caught in war zones such as Ukraine and Gaza,' Guterres said, adding that the pope not only used his global platform but acted in more personal and profound ways. Guterres recalled how Francis called up the Church of the Holy Family in Gaza City and enquired about the health and well-being of the people there, asking questions that ''a father would ask.'" During his last public appearance on Easter Sunday, Francis resolutely called for the ending of conflicts across the world, he
The Herald Scotland
27-04-2025
- Politics
- The Herald Scotland
A Pope for our time: Francis fused faith and action
A Pope for our time, Francis was not only a pastor but a prophetic leader, able to look long into the future of humanity — an advocate, a campaigner, and a searing critic of the inequality and injustice that defines so much of our world today. For those of us at the Scottish Catholic International Aid Fund (SCIAF), his papacy was especially important. He was a Pope of the poor, for the poor. He believed that being a Catholic meant more than attending Mass or reciting prayers — it meant serving others. It meant standing with the excluded, and crucially, it meant challenging the structures and systems that keep people poor. 'You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That's how prayer works,' he once said. It was this fusion of faith and action that defined his time as Pontiff. Pope Francis quite simply refused to accept that poverty and suffering were inevitable. He believed people were called not just to feed the poor, but to ask the uncomfortable question: why do the poor have no food? He knew that charity without justice can become a bandage on a wound that never heals. Read more on the passing of Pope Francis: Nowhere was his moral clarity more urgently needed than in the fight to protect our planet. Again, he was a Pope of our time. With the publication of his seminal encyclical Laudato Si' in 2015, Francis transformed global conversations about the environment. Before that moment, many still saw climate change as a distant threat, or a purely scientific or economic issue. Francis reframed it as a moral and spiritual crisis. He made it clear: The Church stands firmly with the science, the poorest are suffering first and worst, and future generations are at grave risk. His teaching made it plain that caring for the environment is not an optional part of faith — it is integral to it. That climate change is fundamentally an issue of justice, and action on the climate is what is demanded of us – in the name of the poor now, and future generations. He also spoke with fierce compassion about the plight of migrants and refugees. In the face of rising nationalism and hostility to those fleeing conflict, persecution and poverty, Francis consistently reminded us of our shared humanity. He called on governments to welcome the stranger, to protect those who journey across seas and deserts in search of safety. He washed the feet of refugees, decried the 'globalization of indifference,' and called migration 'a sign of the times' — one that demands not fear, but solidarity, compassion and hospitality. And he was no less bold in his critique of the global economy. In Fratelli Tutti, he lamented an economic system that 'maintains the wealth of a few rather than improving the lot of the many.' He condemned what he called 'an economy that kills,' where human beings are reduced to consumers and workers, valued only for their output. For Pope Francis, markets should serve people — not the other way around. He spoke out against the financialisation of everything, from housing to healthcare, and called for an economy rooted in solidarity, equity and the dignity of work. Mourners pay their respects to Pope Francis in St. Peter's Basilica as the late Pontiff lies in state ahead of his funeral. (Image:) Through it all, Pope Francis offered a vision of a better world — one grounded in the long-term common good. A world that supports and cares for people when they need it most. A world built not on individualism and competition, but on compassion, community, and a deep sense of our interconnectedness. He believed in a civilisation of love, where the measure of society is how it treats its most vulnerable. Losing him now feels like bad timing. Just when the world needs to hear his messages the most. Around the world, we see a retreat into national self-interest, growing military budgets, and a relentless arms race. Climate change is accelerating, yet meaningful action lags. Aid budgets are being slashed, even as humanitarian need reaches historic highs. And international humanitarian law — so long a cornerstone of shared human decency — is being flagrantly disregarded, not least in Gaza. But even in death, Pope Francis has not been silenced. He has started something. He lit a fire. And that fire will not be extinguished. World leaders couldn't wait to tell the world that they were attending his funeral, and no doubt competed over who would have the best seats. The doubtless anachronistic office of the papacy still has tremendous convening power, and Pope Francis in particular has used this office to great effect in injecting political debates with great moral clarity. We must hope all of those world leaders attending his funeral leave with a sense of the living, breathing words of Pope Francis that remain with us on here on Earth. His call to lead with compassion, to prioritise justice over profit, to remember that politics is not meant to be a game of power, but a vocation of service. And to embrace the prophetic vision of a better world that Pope Francis had, instead of a sterile managerialism that forgets the great injustices being committed every day. Pope Francis may no longer be with us, but his legacy lives on in our pursuit of justice and peace. The world is a better place for having had him as Pope, and through continuing to remember him the world can be a better place still. Ben Wilson is Director of Public Engagement at SCIAF
Herald Malaysia
26-04-2025
- General
- Herald Malaysia
Tribute to Pope Francis: May his memory be a blessing
We publish a recollection of the late Pope Francis, signed by the professor who was the initiator of the letter written to Pope Francis by some 400 rabbis and scholars, in the aftermath of the outbreak of war in Gaza, to which the Pope responded with a reply expressing appreciation. Apr 26, 2025 Pope Francis prays at the 'Wailing Wall' By Karma Ben Johanan To our Catholic brothers and sisters, In February 2024, at a moment of great affliction for our people, Pope Francis addressed the Jewish community in Israel with words of comfort, reminding us that the Church and the Jewish people have walked a long shared path. Today, as we continue this two-thousand-year journey together, it is we who extend a hand to you, with deep solidarity and a sincere expression of sorrow for the loss of your beloved shepherd. In Jewish tradition, to say 'may his memory be a blessing' is not merely to express grief, but to take on a commitment: to make memory active, to transform remembrance into action, by bringing to life what the departed has sown in the world. Ultimately, the most authentic eulogies are those enacted with the hands, not merely spoken with the lips. Creation, the Psalms teach, gives glory to God without words: 'The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands... their voice goes out through all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.' This too was the legacy of Saint Francis of Assisi, who invited even the birds to join in praising the Creator: 'Sing, sister cicada, and praise your Lord!' It was an invitation to praise God not with words, but with one's very life. Inspired by the Poor Man of Assisi, Pope Francis always gave greater value to gestures than to discourse. As he wrote in Fratelli Tutti : 'Francis did not wage a war of words… he simply spread the love of God... In this way, he became a father to all and inspired the vision of a fraternal society.' May our mourning for Pope Francis be translated into concrete actions. Let us build, step by step, gesture by gesture, that fraternal society he spoke of. May his memory be a blessing.--Vatican News
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.
Russia Today
22-04-2025
- Politics
- Russia Today
Pope Francis was a great man who committed one terrible failure in the end
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.
