Pope Leo XIV may appear to have sharpened his public voice during his recent tour of Africa, where he denounced “a handful of tyrants” and “chains of corruption” afflicting parts of the continent. Yet framing this shift as a sudden change risks misreading a longer pattern.
The pope has consistently articulated similar themes, including in relation to the U.S.-Israeli war involving Iran. What has changed is not necessarily Leo’s message, but the level of attention it has drawn—particularly following criticism from Donald Trump and remarks by Vice President JD Vance, the Associated Press analysis points out.
“Yes, Pope Leo might give the impression that he is engaging, in his quiet way and with authority, and this is how it looks to the world press and social media,” said Cardinal Michael Czerny.
“But in fact the Holy Father’s homilies and talks in Africa have been prepared, well in advance, in terms of the local African reality and the church,” he added. “So, if they seem relevant to the current wars, controversy, this reminds us of Jesus saying, ‘Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear!’”
Leo himself has attempted to draw a distinction between perception and intent. Speaking aboard the papal plane on April 18 en route from Cameroon to Angola, he rejected claims that his remarks were aimed at Trump, insisting they referred to African conflicts, particularly separatist violence in western Cameroon. Still, this clarification underscores a delicate balancing act. While rooted in local realities, his rhetoric resonates globally—and intersects with ongoing geopolitical tensions.
“That distancing of Pope Leo from some interpretations was really a move to de-escalate a very dangerous situation,” said Massimo Faggioli. “Because the Vatican needs the United States to restore some kind of peaceful — not order — but a horizon of peace, a hope of peace.”
Despite efforts to contextualise his words, Leo has directly addressed U.S. policy. In early April, speaking at Castel Gandolfo, he described Trump’s threat to annihilate Iranian civilisation as “truly unacceptable.” He went further, urging civic engagement: “I would invite the citizens of all the countries involved to contact the authorities, political leaders, congressmen, to ask them, tell them to work for peace and to reject war.”
Faggioli described this appeal as “the Vatican’s nuclear option,” noting its unprecedented nature. Even during the Cuban Missile Crisis, Pope John XXIII refrained from urging voters to act politically, instead addressing leaders directly and working through diplomatic channels.
The implications extend beyond immediate diplomacy.
“What is at stake now is that at a time of war, loyalties of Catholics are tested in a particular way,” Faggioli said, suggesting the tension could shape future political trajectories for Catholic figures across party lines.
According to Kathleen Sprows Cummings, the friction also reflects differing expectations among American Catholics.
“So JD Vance can say the pope should stick to morality,” she said, “but war and peace are ancient moral issues.”
Meanwhile, Antonio Spadaro emphasised continuity in Leo’s approach.
“The strong reaction arrived from America,” he said. “It was America that reacted to Leo’s words, and not vice versa.”
He cautioned against framing the situation as a personal clash: “It’s very dangerous to imagine that the pope is fighting with Trump, because it means demeaning the pope to a level of contrast, one against the other, which Trump may want but that the pope has no intention of doing.”
On the ground in Africa, however, such geopolitical tensions appear distant. In Angola, tens of thousands gathered at the Shrine of Mama Muxima to see Leo. For many, the visit remains a spiritual moment rather than a political one.
“My kids were crying to come, but I said no,” said attendee Lucineia Francisco. “This is a spiritual journey that I’m really going to face on my own.”
By Sabina Mammadli
