Pope Francis, between the First World and the Global South

It is said that Pope Francis is a Pope of the Global South, and this is true. Pope Francis embodies, in words, deeds, and omissions, the vision of the Global South on many issues of great international interest: from the piecemeal world war to the Ukrainian conflict; from the Israeli-Palestinian situation to the vision of the economy. Everything in Pope Francis is part of that cry of the countries that have been marginalized and that today want to regain their space and their dignity.

This makes Francis pontificate one of the paradoxes. The greatest paradox is that a Pope from the Global South takes, from an intellectual point of view, much of the vision of the so-called “First World.” In some parts of the pontificate, the Kiplingesque needs an “evolved” minority to lead the rest of the world to evolve similarly. It is, in its way, an ideological colonization—the same that Pope Francis denounces, and rightly so, with great force.

Where does this reading come from? Three events happened last week, partially unrelated yet symptomatic of something bigger.

The first is the end of the Synod on “Communion, Mission, and Participation,” which the Pope has repeatedly defined simply as “Synod on Synodality.” It was supposed to be a Synod of revolution, and there was no shortage of pressure to include many topics in the synodal discussion. They are the usual topics that Benedict XVI had enumerated when speaking to the Swiss bishops in 2007:

• The ordination of married men
• The role of women with particular attention to the female diaconate and the women ordination
• Pastoral care for LGBT people

All these issues were part of the debate but were then excluded or reshaped more moderately in the summary document of the first part of the Synod in 2023. Pope Francis has sensed the discontent of the assembly and has defined ten study groups on the most controversial issues, which will finish their work after the Synod. These ten study groups have, in effect, removed this part of the debate from the Synod. The subsequent discontent led to a statement by Cardinal Jean-Claude Hollerich, the general rapporteur of the Synod, who said that the work of the study groups is part of the Synod itself.

In fact, however, these themes are not in the final document—155 paragraphs over 47 pages—which is mainly derived from the document on the Synod of the International Theological Commission published in 2018. It looks at the meaning of synodality and its theological root, not practical themes.

It was a necessary turning point in the face of two-thirds of the synodal assembly reluctant to go further. Moreover – and Cardinal Joseph Tobin had made this clear in one of the Synod briefings – the topic of synodality was not the most popular at the Synod Council.

Jonathan Liedl noted in the National Catholic Register that little or nothing was done to stop the rhetoric of change created around the Synod. The strategy seemed simply to let the minorities go. If there were changes, the minorities could say they were right, and the Synod’s communication would not be attacked. If there were no changes, it could simply be said that the purpose of the Synod itself had been misunderstood.

Such a document brings discontent among the most active minorities.

Theologian Mirijam Weijlens speaks of the need for a “synodal reconfiguration” of the Church, with changes in canon law that aim to create permanent structures. The final document also speaks of a culture of accountability. This almost corporate term works mainly for administrative and procedural issues but does not seem to be a concept that can be applied consistently, and in any case.

To what extent can the Church be accountable? And can the Pope be accountable? Because if the concept applies to everyone, it must also affect the Pope. But the Pope, particularly this Pope, chooses what to do and how to do it, often without consulting others. This is within his prerogatives.

But it conflicts with the idea of a synodal Church.

And here we come to the second event of the week, which was the controversy created by an article by Cardinal-elect Timothy Radcliffe, republished by L’Osservatore Romano and commented on in Catholic Culture by Phil Lawler, in tones that shocked Cardinal Ambongo. Ambongo complained about the article and spoke to Radcliffe about it, saying he did not recognize his thoughts, clarified that Radcliffe meant well, and further explained his position.

Radcliffe, speaking of Fiducia Supplicans, also talked about the position of the Churches of Africa and also mentioned that the African Churches were under pressure from the Russian Orthodox, from Arab countries with solid investments in the African continent, and in general from a series of other forces that made it difficult for them to take a different position. Radcliffe clarified that he did not mean that the position of the African Churches was not independent and that these forces had influenced them, but only to note the presence of these forces on the ground.

The nuance is important, but the theme is undeniably present and strong.

It is worth looking at Radcliffe’s entire article, which is exceptionally long. Radcliffe wants to reassure those who do not see the changes they hoped for from the Synod. He says that when there is sowing, you do not necessarily see new changes and that if there are no revolutions, it is because everything was foreseen. After all, “the Synod had anticipated this misunderstanding.”

In short, Radcliffe writes, “we must not be discouraged. Now, we meet at tables, and the interventions are interspersed with the so-called ‘conversations in the Spirit.’ A new ecclesiology is developing that sees everyone participate but still needs the support of the clergy”. In short, says Radcliffe, we must abandon our comfort zones, remembering that we find ourselves in a multipolar world that no longer has the West as an automatic point of reference for most of the world’s population.

But this leads to the dilemma of Fiducia Supplicans, the Dominican theologian continues, because it was ultimately published without much consultation, in a not very synodal way, and this led the African bishops, represented by Cardinal Ambongo, to express dissent from the declaration. “Cardinal Ambongo confirmed that African exceptionalism is an example of synodality. And he pointed out that unity does not mean uniformity.  The Gospel is inculturated differently in different parts of the world,” Radcliffe writes.

The fact that there was no consultation is a problem because – adds the cardinal designate – “the African bishops are under strong pressure from the Evangelicals, with American money; from the Russian Orthodox, with Russian money; and from the Muslims, with money from the rich Gulf countries.”

In a nutshell, there was a need to discuss their problems precisely to understand them. But the key to the reasoning is that net of the issues, we are moving inexorably towards a Church that blesses irregular couples, that has its precise vision of the world that identifies with that of the so-called first world, and that wants to carry forward a principle that—also in the reform of the Curia—is called “the spirit of the Second Vatican Council.”

Not only does the text open up a question of “African exceptionality,” but it also implicitly grants a “German exceptionality” or any other exceptionality. Leaving Africa to have its views simply means that the Western world will continue on its path. It will not be an actual ideological colonization but undoubtedly a resistance to the reality principle.

The problem is that many of the intellectual debates they want to absorb with the Synod do not address the issue of the great crisis of faith we are experiencing. Regarding pastoral care of the last and accountability, it is often forgotten that everything starts from faith in Jesus Christ. The priesthood is seen as a function and not a sacrament, as are the episcopal roles and even the cardinalate.

And here we come to the third event. Pope Francis rarely gathered the cardinals to discuss significant issues in the Church. He has done so three times: once to discuss the Family, a second to discuss a possible reform of the Curia, and a third to take note of the reform of the Curia when it had already been decided. With his choices of men to receive the red hat, Pope Francis has distanced the cardinals from the center of decisions, looking throughout the world as if to increase a geographical representation.

This mentality leads to two types of reactions: Cardinals-elect, like Pablo David of Kalookan (Philippines), who question the very title of emincence for a Cardinal, interpreting the cardinalate as a mere honorific to be treated as a service. And cardinals-elect like Paskalis Bruno Syukur of Bogor (Indonesia) ask the Pope not to create cardinals because they want “to continue to grow in faith and vocation.”

Syukur’s renunciation is an important signal.

From the South of the world, from a Church that is a minority in a mainly Islamic world, a potential cardinal prefers to remain a bishop among his people, not considering himself up to it or, in any case, not accepting the leap to the Church of Rome. There have been cardinals who have refused in the past – like Saint Philip Neri – but the Popes spoke with them beforehand. There were no sudden public refusals. This case demonstrates the centrality of papal decisions. The cardinalate itself – the office – appears no longer to be an indispensable service to the Church of Rome, at least not in the eyes of its head.

Perhaps the Church led by Pope Francis is unable to hear the cry of the least?

It is a specious question that can have multiple answers. The Pope represents the South of the world, with his attention to popular movements (in truth, less and less in the course of the years) and his visible narrative favoring the last. But, when it comes to intellectual questions, Pope Francis has often taken the narrative of the first world. If on abortion, he has no problem saying that “it is like hiring a hitman”; on the issues of marriage, he seeks a synthesis that puts him in line with the general thinking of the mainstream.

It is no coincidence that Pope Francis has had long conversations with Eugenio Scalfari, founder of the left-wing newspaper La Repubblica and eponym of Italian atheist thought, even accepting that Scalfari reported the conversations inaccurately. It is no coincidence that the Pope even named the radical leader Emma Bonino as a role model, perhaps not knowing that Bonino was the one who performed clandestine abortions when, in Italy, these were not permitted in some cases by law.

Pope Francis criticizes the current economic model but does not hesitate to participate in the G7 in a side session, in fact accepting that a few “great” people of the earth decide the fate of the entire population.

A Third World pontificate, in short, that looks at the First World with a particular insistence. There is also a desire for “revenge,” for turning one’s system of values into “source theology.” The truth is that many of the issues remain those of the First World.

This is what happened on a small scale at Caritas Internationalis. Reformed by Benedict XVI, it had appointed a secretary-general who represented Third World countries. However, that secretary general was sent away in unclear circumstances and with a maneuver that, to many, seemed like “revenge” by the old entourage that was put out after Benedict XVI’s reform. The administration’s vision of the world that followed seems to lead Caritas Internationalis toward a less spiritual, more managerial vision. The same vision that, before the reform, had allowed pro-abortion groups to enter the confederation.

Finally, the question of LGBT pastoral care always comes back.

Cardinal Robert Sarah, then president of the Pontifical Council Cor Unum, took a strong position at the Synod on the Family in 2014. No one remembers that a document from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith from 1986 concerns the pastoral care of homosexual persons. Every intermediate point of view is erased.

There is always, and only, one narrative to carry forward.