In conversation with Winston Churchill in 1935, Stalin famously quipped: “The Pope! How many divisions has he got?” Indeed, by that time, the Pope had long since ceased to command an army. With the death of Pope Francis, we’ve been reminded of the fact that Stalin failed to grasp: the papacy wields significant power in world affairs – a power measured not in military divisions, but in moral authority. The newly elected pontiff, Pope Leo XIV, inherits a prominent role in international affairs handed down over millennia amid a rapidly crumbling world order and pressing global challenges. His success in handling these challenges will depend on how he wields and preserves the moral authority of the papacy.
Assessments of Pope Francis’ foreign policy legacy have varied widely. An article in Foreign Policy praised him for strengthening the Church’s standing by “chart(ing) a diplomatic course independent of Western capitals, elevat(ing) Catholic leaders in countries that had never been part of the church’s governance, and hon(ing) a diplomatic method that is both pragmatic and aspirational.” Another essay in America declared that “(to) many, Francis seemed one of the last credible moral voices able to speak with clarity on a gamut of global challenges and concerns.” On the other hand, some Vatican experts have warned that the Church lost significant moral authority during his tenure. In her 2024 memoir, Mary Ann Glendon wrote that “much of the Holy See’s influence as a moral voice on the international stage has been lost due to its relative silence on human rights abuses in such places as China, Cuba, Hong Kong, and Venezuela.” On April 21, George Weigel published an article titled “Pope Francis oversaw a steep decline in the Vatican’s role as a global witness” in which he cited Francis’ conciliatory attitude toward notorious human rights violators as contributing to a loss of moral authority. How to make sense of such different appraisals? A closer look at foreign policy under Pope Francis reveals both an explanation of these starkly differing assessments and a path forward for Catholic foreign policy.
Pope Francis undeniably opened many diplomatic doors and oversaw important initiatives, including a 2018 deal with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) on the appointment of bishops, a US-Cuba agreement, and outreach to the Islamic world. He also raised global awareness of the plight of migrants, environmental concerns, and the evils of war. At first glance, these might seem like successes; however, each of these accomplishments had an associated failure.
Yes, Pope Francis sought to foster better relations with the CCP, but the CCP now wields significant power over the appointment of Chinese bishops, and the plight of “underground” Catholics who refuse to join the state-sanctioned church remains. Yes, the agreement Pope Francis brokered between the US and Cuba has led to the release of some political prisoners, but his failure to condemn Fidel Castro and his legacy caused scandal to many. Pope Francis’ overtures toward Islam resulted in the signing of a joint statement on human fraternity with the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar, but also in confusion about whether he had declared the equality of all religions in the process. His statements on migrants and the environment were at times overtly political, alienating faithful Catholics who are hesitant to endorse unregulated migration or drastic environmental regulation. While decrying the horrors of war, he implied that no war can be just, leaving some wondering if he had upended centuries of Catholic tradition and denied Ukraine’s right to self-defense.
Viewing Pope Francis’ foreign policy in this way helps to explain the differing views of his legacy. More optimistic commentators focus on Pope Francis’ foreign policy accomplishments, while critics are more concerned with the failures that attended them. The optimists are not entirely wrong. The Holy See has done some laudable work in international affairs in recent years. I saw this first-hand in 2019 as an intern for the Holy See Mission to the United Nations, where the Holy Father’s representatives valiantly and effectively defend the dignity of the human person in an increasingly hostile environment. And in the eyes of some, the Church’s moral authority has increased thanks to Pope Francis’ diplomatic and humanitarian efforts. Yet I fear that this perception may be fleeting. Over the past decade, the Church has failed to consistently and clearly apply the Catholic moral vision to international issues. If the next pope continues in this vein, some short-term diplomatic successes are still possible, but in the long term the Church will lose significant moral authority and power in international affairs.
As George Weigel has commented, when a new regime in China arises, will people be drawn to a Church that capitulated to the CCP? If Ukrainians believe that the Pope draws a moral equivalence between their country’s self-defense and Russia’s invasion, how much harder will the work of evangelization and cultural renewal be for the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church? If the Church does not condemn the most obvious human rights abuses, will the world listen when she opposes efforts to enshrine abortion or gender transitions as human rights? Will people view the Church as a compelling moral witness if even devout Catholics are scratching their heads, trying to figure out how to square the Vatican’s foreign policy with Catholic moral theology? The answer, I fear, is no.
In order to revive the Church’s role in international affairs, Pope Leo XIV must embrace the paradox that the more he prioritizes foreign policy as such, the less he will succeed. The Church’s mission is to proclaim Christ to the ends of the earth and support the faithful on the path to holiness. All her efforts must spring from that mission; if they do not, the Church is no different than an NGO, and she will fail both in her essential mission and in her foreign policy. Prioritizing diplomatic and political success might increase the Church’s popularity in the short term, but in the long run, people will turn to organizations that deliver the humanitarian message they want, without all the inconvenient teachings on sin, suffering, and “traditional” morality.
As Sean Patrick Calabria argued in this publication last week, the new Pope should look to one of the greatest modern examples of papal foreign policy for inspiration: Pope St. John Paul II’s role in ending communism in Poland and, ultimately, the Soviet Union. This involved some savvy diplomacy, but he was successful primarily because, in the words of Barbara J. Elliott, “He recognized and said … that at the root the conflict between communism and the rest of the world was not about politics and wasn’t about military might; it was a spiritual conflict.” The new pope faces a global landscape very different from the one John Paul II faced, but his response must be the same: to discern the moral and spiritual conflicts plaguing the world today, clearly articulate them, and empower people to build social structures that reflect the truth about the human person.
I do not believe that Pope Francis intentionally neglected the Church’s mission or placed political expediency above the Gospel. I believe he truly loved the Church and tried to place Christ at the center of all he did. Yet, the Vatican’s foreign policy during his tenure failed to clearly articulate and act on the moral imperatives of the Gospel as applied to the global challenges of the modern world. If he learns from the successes and failures of previous popes, Pope Leo XIV can still revive the Church’s moral authority and power in international affairs. Let us pray that he does, not just for the good of the Catholic Church, but for the good of a world badly in need of Good News.