By Marcus Walker and Elizabeth Bernstein
VATICAN CITY -- "War is back in vogue." So said Pope Leo XIV to ambassadors from around the world in a marbled hall above the main entrance to St. Peter's Basilica in January.
He didn't name names, or have to. President Trump was flexing America's military might in Venezuela and the Caribbean, threatening to take over the Danish territory of Greenland, and assembling an armada for a looming war with Iran. Russia's invasion of Ukraine was grinding on.
The way Pope Leo saw it, powers were seeking to impose dominion through arms and undermining the taboo since World War II on changing borders by force. "This gravely threatens the rule of law," he said, "which is the foundation of all peaceful civil coexistence."
His words were the latest salvo in a growing effort to insert himself into a world of spiraling conflicts. The 70-year-old pope, born as Robert Prevost in Chicago and known for most of his life as "Bob," has had a quiet start to his pontificate. But with the world facing crisis after crisis, the first-ever American pope is stepping up his efforts at moral suasion in defense of a fading international order that the American president, among other leaders , is rapidly dismantling.
The papacy has always been political. But now, some of the biggest challenges to its vision of society are coming from the U.S. -- just as the 1.4 billion-strong Catholic Church is led by an American for the first time in its 2,000-year history.
The Midwestern pontiff brings a deeper understanding of American society and politics than any previous pope. That means his critiques can't be dismissed by U.S. politicians as easily as a foreign pope's would be, say senior church officials.
Complicating his task is the fact that millions of American Catholics voted for Trump. However, the conservative advocacy group CatholicVote, which helped mobilize support for Trump, is now warning that "widespread mistrust" among Catholics over his hard-line immigration tactics could cost the Republicans some of those gains.
Leo doesn't want to be the anti-Trump, senior Vatican officials say. Rather, the pope is advocating positively for a world that reflects Catholic teaching.
But the contrast of style and substance between the world's two most prominent Americans -- one a brash billionaire businessman who speaks in superlatives, the other a former missionary who spent years helping the needy in Peru -- is too glaring to miss.
"They're offering very different images of America. But they're both authentic representations of who we are," said Elise Ann Allen, author of "Pope Leo XIV," a new biography, and a writer for the Catholic news website Crux.
The cardinals who gathered in the Sistine Chapel last May elected Leo in the hope that he would restore tranquility to the global Catholic Church, after turbulent years under the charismatic but at times polarizing Pope Francis, who unleashed bitter debates between progressive and conservative Catholics about doctrine, morality and the direction of the church. In Leo, they saw both clarity and a consensus-builder.
"I think the cardinals were looking for three things," said Alistair Dutton, secretary-general of Caritas Internationalis, the global confederation of Catholic humanitarian organizations. "They wanted continuity with Pope Francis. They wanted the unifying, conciliatory spirit of Pope Leo. But they also wanted a strong pope who could stand toe-to-toe with the big men of history of today, which includes the new American administration, but not only."
Leo and Trump have yet to meet or speak with each other directly. A meeting might not happen for a while. Leo declined, at least for this year, an invitation to visit the U.S. that Vice President JD Vance gave him in Rome last May.
Leo has already managed to tone down the tensions within the global Catholic Church by continuing to champion the poor and the marginalized, while also affirming traditional Catholic teaching on divisive issues such as same-sex marriage and female priests. The combination has helped Leo to bring the bulk of the Catholic hierarchy and faithful on board.
The global stage presents a different challenge. His low-key approach, say some papal observers, has made it harder for him to make himself heard in a wider world that's being shaken up by populism, strongman leaders and raw power politics.
Googling the Pope
When white smoke rose over the Sistine Chapel last May and Leo's election was announced to the crowds in St. Peter's Square, many people's reaction was puzzlement as they quickly googled him on their smartphones.
Prevost was little known to the wider public except in Peru, where he was greatly admired during his more than 20 years as a missionary and bishop. Even in his native Chicago, he was a hometown hero most of the city had only recently heard of.
The U.S. once had a complicated relationship with the papacy. When John F. Kennedy ran for president in 1960, he had to reassure voters that his allegiance lay with America and he would accept no instructions from Rome.
Such doubts have largely been overcome over the past 60 years as Catholics have contributed prominently to American society and culture, said Archbishop Paul Coakley of Oklahoma City, president of the conference of U.S. bishops. "The fact that we now have an American pope is the icing on the cake," he said. "For many people, it demonstrates that you can be a good Catholic and a good American."
For the global church, too, Leo's election "confirmed the American Catholic community at the heart of the Catholic family," said Archbishop Paul Gallagher, the Vatican's Secretary for Relations with States in an interview.
Rarely if ever have as many Catholics filled leading positions in American public life -- from Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who are seen as Trump's two most likely Republican successors, to some of the GOP House leadership and most of the Supreme Court.
Still, the election of an American pope was a surprise, since many prelates -- including Prevost himself -- believed that the college of cardinals wouldn't hand the papacy to the U.S., on top of all the superpower's other clout.
Curiosity about Leo's background and biography quickly turned him into one of the world's most famous people. Soon, everyone in Chicago knew he was a White Sox fan. Americans learned that his melting-pot family history included French, Italian, Spanish and mixed-race Louisiana Creole roots. Users of Duolingo noticed that Leo, already a polyglot, was using the app in the small hours to study German.
Leo's humility quickly helped make him internationally popular. A survey across 61 countries published by Gallup International in January found that Leo has easily the highest approval rating of any global leader.
Kevin Hayes, a retired architect and member of Resurrection Parish in suburban Pittsburgh, said he was delighted to see an American pontiff. "I now have somebody who's making statements from the Vatican who understands American culture and politics," he said. "It's not only the pope talking to you, but it's an American talking to you with moral authority."
Clash over ICE
Leo didn't want to get involved in politics, he told his biographer Allen. "That's not what the church is about. But I'm not afraid to raise issues that I think are gospel issues, that hopefully people on both sides of the aisle, as we say, will be able to listen to."
Tensions over immigration made it hard to stay out.
Trump's team has been sparring with the Vatican over its immigration policies ever since it took office in early 2025. Vance and Rubio politely debated the matter with Leo in a visit to Rome soon after his election last May.
The rift deepened as the administration's immigration crackdown escalated over the summer. Raids by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement led to the detention of tens of thousands of immigrants and clashes between protesters and law enforcement amid an atmosphere of civil strife in several U.S. cities. ICE's tactics caused widespread anger among Catholic Latinos as they saw friends, neighbors and relatives rounded up.
For years, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops had been known for vigorous disagreements between its conservative majority and progressives aligned with Pope Francis. On immigration, however, the administration's actions led to a rare unity. An overwhelming majority of the bishops voted for a declaration in November that denounced a "climate of fear" and condemned "the indiscriminate mass deportation of people."
"Someone who says I'm against abortion but I'm in agreement with the inhuman treatment of immigrants in the United States, I don't know if that's pro-life," Leo told reporters at the scenic papal retreat of Castel Gandolfo outside Rome. Politicians who claim to support Catholic teaching need to realize it comes as a package, he said. He was echoing an argument by a former archbishop of Chicago, Joseph Bernardin, who said respect for life was a "seamless garment" that covers all the ways in which human life can be protected or violated.
The White House quickly responded to Leo, rejecting the allegation that illegal immigrants were being treated inhumanely.
"The Catholic Church is wrong," White House border czar Tom Homan, who is Catholic, told reporters. "I think they need to spend time fixing the Catholic Church."
But the church's pushback against ICE resonated deep into mainstream America, said Father Robert Sirico, a Catholic priest and co-founder of the Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty in Grand Rapids, Mich. "Speaking as an American conservative, a lot of Americans -- including those who are concerned about immigration -- think ICE have gone too far," he said. "The Catholic Church in particular has a strong immigrant base. I think Pope Leo had to take a stand on that."
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March 20, 2026 20:00 ET (00:00 GMT)
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