WHEN Jorge Mario Bergoglio was elected pope in 2013, he came almost from “the ends of the Earth,” as he himself put it. That single sentence immediately set the tone: this pope would be different.

As the first Jesuit and the first Latin American to hold the seat of Peter, he chose the name Francis — referring to the saint of Assisi, known for his poverty and solidarity with the least fortunate.

And this was more than symbolic. Francis resolutely moved to the margins of society: to migrant camps, war zones, and climate summits. His decision not to live in the papal palace but in a simple room, to exchange the popemobile for a modest Ford, and to trade grandeur and glitter for simplicity was not a PR stunt. It was a principled choice. He wanted to be a pope of the poor, for the poor.

Contrary and hard to pigeonhole, Francis was not a typical pope. He lived modestly, spoke simply and made statements one would sooner expect from an activist than from a church leader. His actions caused a stir in conservative circles, not only within the church but also beyond.

His message resonated with people who usually feel little connection to religion. This made him beloved by progressive voices but, at the same time, suspect in the eyes of traditional power.

Conservative on the micro, radical on the macro

Still, Pope Francis was not a revolutionary. On micro-ethical issues — abortion, homosexuality, contraception, gender — he continued to adhere to church doctrine. His tone was conciliatory, his style humane, but the teaching itself remained largely untouched.

He showed empathy for LGBTQ+ people, had understanding for remarried believers, and spoke of mercy and forgiveness. However, he did not recognise same-sex marriage, sharply condemned abortion and continued to uphold celibacy.

As long as the church remains a patriarchal institution, one can hardly expect otherwise.

Where he was innovative was on macro-ethical issues. There, he took positions that even many world leaders consider too outspoken. He pointed to the sore spots of our economic system, our migration policy, and our treatment of the earth.

Against war and militarism

At the start of the war in Ukraine, the pope went directly against the West’s war fervour. In May 2022, he spoke of “a war that may have been provoked in some way, or not prevented.”

He referred to Nato countries “barking at the door of Russia.” In an interview in March 2024, he said that Kiev should have the courage to negotiate an end to the war with Russia.

In his 2023 Christmas message, he launched an attack on the arms industry. Regarding Gaza, the pope described Israel’s attacks on unarmed civilians as terrorism. Repeatedly he called for an immediate ceasefire.

It is clear that the Vatican is not dependent on the arms industry or dancing to Washington’s tune.

Migration: between humanity and moral duty

Francis regularly stood up for the rights of migrants and refugees. He called on countries to be more hospitable and humane towards migrants. Refusing help to migrants, he called a “grave sin.”

Francis consistently brought migration back to its human core. Refugees are not a threat but brothers and sisters. He denounced the militarisation of borders and the indifference of rich countries to the despair of people fleeing.

He visited refugee camps, brought refugees with him to Rome, and called on European leaders to fulfill their duty. Not as politicians, but as human beings.

Francis condemned racism and xenophobia. He emphasised that refugees are not “statistics” but people with stories and rights. He called for expanded access routes for migrants and advocated for “a global governance of migration based on justice, fraternity, and solidarity.”

His vision was clear: migration is not a temporary problem but a structural reality. And it requires an ethical and solidarity-based response, not fences or pushbacks. His courageous statements on this issue stand in stark contrast to those of today’s politicians — even many on the left.

Capitalism under fire

Francis’s criticism of capitalism was unprecedented for a pope. He called the current economic system “a dead-end road.” In his encyclicals and speeches, he strongly attacked inequality, the power of the markets and the inhuman logic of profit over well-being.

Because capitalism creates poverty, he was so sharply opposed to it. “We can no longer wait to solve the structural causes of poverty, to heal our society from a disease that can only lead to new crises. Markets and financial speculation cannot enjoy absolute autonomy,” he said in an interview.

The rich also had to bear the brunt. “Jesus confirms that you cannot serve two masters, God and wealth.” He advocated for a redistribution of wealth, a just tax system and a rethinking of our economic foundations.

His words might just as well have come from an economist like Thomas Piketty or a union leader. The pope’s statements clash with the tax gifts for the wealthy of past decades and the refusal to implement a wealth tax.

For Francis, it was clear: if you want to fight poverty, you must tackle the system that causes it.

Climate: Laudato Si’ as moral compass

Also regarding the climate, the pope questioned the economic system and pointed world leaders to their damning responsibility. With his encyclical Laudato Si’, Francis made history. No other religious document had such an impact on the climate debate. He made the connection between ecological destruction and social injustice.

Protecting the planet, according to him, was not a luxury but a moral necessity. He called for radical choices, for rising above economic interests and national egotism. The climate crisis, he stated, is also a spiritual crisis.

He pointed out that global warming worsens other societal problems such as health, food, water, and (inter)national security. These crises compel us “to make radical decisions that are not always easy.”

According to him, we are faced with a choice: either we turn inward and seek refuge in protectionism and exploitation, or we see the crisis as an opportunity for change. Only the latter option, he said, will lead us to “a brighter horizon.”

But that is only possible based on “a renewed sense of shared responsibility for our world and true solidarity, based on justice.”

The pope emphasised that humanity has never had so many means at its disposal to avoid a climate crisis. But then political leaders must indeed take responsibility. Despite all the fine rhetoric and many promises, that is unfortunately still not the case.
For many climate activists, Francis was an ally.

Uncomfortable truth for the media

That this side of the pope was rarely highlighted in the mainstream media is no coincidence. His criticism of capitalism, of war politics, of migration hypocrisy — it touches on the foundations of neoliberal thinking, in which most media are also deeply rooted.

Previous popes, however conservative, often received a gentler reception because they stayed neatly within expected frameworks. Francis, on the other hand, broke those frameworks. And that made him harder to pigeonhole.

In many media reports, the focus was mainly on his positions regarding abortion or homosexuality — precisely the issues where he was the least innovative. His most radical appeals for the world to rethink itself received hardly any attention.

Succession

Francis was not perfect. He did not manage to thoroughly reform the church, struggled with addressing abuse and left some files untouched. But he was a voice of moral clarity in a time of great confusion and uncertainty. Most world leaders pale in comparison to the figure of Francis.

The period of sede vacante has now begun. Soon, the cardinals will choose a successor. The question is whether his successor will be as courageous on the macro level as Francis was.

The world needs it.