18 August 1276. Adrian V, the Genoese Ottobono Fieschi, elderly and ailing, died after a pontificate lasting just 39 days. The election had taken place in accordance with the strict rules introduced two years earlier by the constitution "Ubi periculum", through which Gregory X had established the conclave for the election of popes. The ‘custody’ of the conclave was entrusted to the Senator and Governor of Rome, at that time Charles of Anjou, King of Sicily. He strictly enforced the new rules by confining the cardinals to the Lateran and drastically reducing their rations to force them to reach a swift decision. The day after the election, Adrian convened a consistory in which, recalling the hardships he had endured during the conclave, he suspended the Ubi periculum, reserving the right to reform it at a later date – something he did not, however, have time to do.

20 August 1823. Pius VII, Luigi Barnaba Chiaramonti, died; he had been elected following the death of Pius VI, who had been held captive in France. Pius VII, too, suffered captivity at the hands of Napoleon. Kind-hearted and courageous, after Napoleon’s defeat he welcomed his persecutor’s relatives to Rome, as they sought refuge that had been denied them elsewhere. He provided them with protection and accommodation in a palace overlooking what is now Piazza Venezia, and one can still make out the small terrace there, sheltered by a canopy that allowed them to look out without being seen (or harassed by the Roman citizens, who were at that time strongly anti-French). That small terrace is a sign of the Pope’s magnanimity, but also of his extraordinary strength.

12 August 1689. Innocent XI, Benedetto Odescalchi of Como, died; during the conclave, he had refused the election, urging the cardinals to choose someone else. After a pause for reflection, a new vote was held, which confirmed his election. He immediately demonstrated his well-known administrative skills and his expertise in economic matters – knowledge he had acquired from his family (one of the wealthiest in Lombardy, involved in banking and commerce) – which were combined with a desire to reform the Church and society. He insisted, for example, that the coronation ceremony be very modest, donating the money saved to the poor and to the churches of Rome. In the same vein, he abolished the traditional regatta on the Tiber held on the feast of St Rocco, allocating the funds to an orphanage. Opposed to nepotism, he did not appoint any relatives to public office. On the international stage, he strongly supported and financed the coalition of Christian armies that defeated the Turks at Vienna in 1683, an event that marked the halt to Ottoman expansion in Europe.

Cardinal Arthur Roche, Prefect for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, did not give Leone a very welcome gift upon his return from holiday. The English cardinal has in fact given an interview to "The Tablet" in which he states that the Pope will not amend "Traditionis custodes" nor return to Benedict XVI’s "Summorum pontificum", which authorised the celebration of Mass according to the "vetus ordo". Controversy is, of course, rife on Tridentine-inspired social media, where users are ready to rail against Roche and even against the Pope. The Pope, however, has not commented. The only words he has uttered on the subject date back a year: to explore, study, discuss and understand. Since then, there has been no shift whatsoever, and given his absolute prudence and silence on such complex matters – one need only recall that in the face of the Lefebvrian schismatic threats, which subsequently materialised, he intervened only once verbally and only once in writing – moreover, forty-eight hours before the rift that took place in Écône – it is unlikely that he appreciated the cardinal’s public statement in the press. Not least because the effect achieved was to create instability, the opposite of the unity so fervently called for by his superior, Leo. Autumn looks set to be a busy time. It would be advisable to proceed one day at a time, taking in the soothing views of Lake Albano as much as possible.

Magnifica Humanitas, the document in which Leo XIV reflects on the anthropological challenges of artificial intelligence, does not reject progress. The issue is not the technology itself, but the desire that drives it. What happens when man-made tools seem to want to redefine humanity itself? The reference to Augustine opens up a perspective that predates the digital revolution. It can be read as a revival of a wisdom born in Roman Africa, where the classical tradition encountered Christianity and gave rise to a reflection on desire, freedom and limits. Carthage was one of the great intellectual centres of late antiquity. From Tertullian to Cyprian, and on to Augustine, this African school developed a vision of humanity in which greatness did not lie in domination, but in the order of desires. It is this legacy that allows us to read "Magnifica Humanitas" as a response to the new technological Babel. The echo of "The City of God" is evident. The narrative is permeated by two orientations of the heart: the love that seeks salvation in its own strength, and that which recognises a greater order. Technology becomes dangerous when it claims to be a promise of absolute liberation. This is what Augustine called "libido dominandi": the will to dominate that drives humankind to seek the eradication of all limits. The crisis of the algorithmic age is also a crisis of love. For Augustine, man is first and foremost a being who loves. When efficiency, speed and performance become absolute criteria, what cannot be calculated is lost: anticipation, memory, contemplation. The machine processes data, but knows neither joy, pain nor hope. It simulates responses; it does not inhabit an existence. Human beings do not become more human by eliminating fragility, but by recognising that it is precisely in finitude that freedom manifests itself. This is why the Christian perspective opposes the posthuman dream: the body is not a prison, but the place of relationship. The same risk is evident today in the externalisation of inner life. Memory, decisions and relationships are progressively entrusted to digital systems. Thus the Confessions are once again highly relevant: ‘You were within me, and I was outside myself’. Inner life is not an escape from the world, but the condition for inhabiting it with discernment. Viewed from this perspective, the compass of "Magnifica Humanitas" points not only towards Hippo, but also towards Carthage: towards that African tradition which taught Augustine that civilisation is not measured by the power it accumulates, but by the order of love it is able to preserve. In the silicon desert, the compass continues to point towards Carthage. From that African shore springs a tradition that today belongs to the whole Mediterranean and binds the destinies of its two shores. The challenge is a shared one: to safeguard a vision of humanity that no algorithm can ever replace. The future will depend less on what machines are capable of doing than on what we choose to love.

The author is the founder of the Mediterranean Development Initiative (MDI), a think tank committed to fostering closer ties between the two shores of the Mediterranean in the name of their shared cultural heritage.

And yet, as the book clearly states, the dominant discourse has focused exclusively on other issues: from climate change to ecology, from migration to cultural dialogue. These are topics on which there is no a priori criticism: the cardinal himself describes them as important. The problem, as the book emphasises, arises when such issues push God’s centrality into the background. But why has this happened? Why do we hear more and more talk in homilies of the climate emergency rather than the profound themes of our faith? “On the one hand, as I was saying, the dominant culture has permeated even ecclesiastical circles, and even preachers are not immune to this influence. On the other hand, there may be a temptation to seek at all costs to be well-liked and acceptable to the congregation, and thus to give in to those topics that are more fashionable and therefore more popular. The consequence is a trite, utterly irrelevant form of preaching that fails to address the profound longings of the human heart. Human beings—even contemporary people—have an absolute need for God, to hear about the Gospel, eternal life and spirituality. It is never permissible to reduce the Gospel to social and worldly issues, however relevant they may be, because this is a failure to fulfil the very will of Christ, who sent us to preach eternal salvation, not social redemption.”

What Cardinal Sarah has been saying for some time now is evident in the West and – narrowing the scope even further – in Europe. When speaking with a bishop or priest from the Old Continent, from the countries at its heart, one senses that the problem is no longer atheism, which at least presupposed a debate – more or less in-depth – on the existence of God. No, the issue has become something else: God is not a fact. The question of his presence in people’s individual lives and in society no longer arises. According to Cardinal Sarah, who in 2024 published "Does God Exist?" (Cantagalli), “it can be acknowledged that in the West, culturally speaking, many people live as if God did not exist. God is no longer at the centre of people’s concerns; we do not need him. The subject of God has become irrelevant, even though the subject of religion itself has not, because human beings are naturally religious, and the human sense of religion is part of the anthropological structure of humankind and therefore has universal relevance. It is likely that a distorted idea of God prevails in the West, one that conflicts with freedom understood as radical autonomy. The illusion of dominion through technoscience fosters this attitude of humankind towards creation and the Creator. But it is an illusion, for the finitude of life always raises the question of meaning, from which it is impossible to escape. We must have the courage to forcefully present Christ as the sole source for truly understanding humankind, its destiny and its profound meaning. This can also be achieved through communal experiences of faith, which make people feel they belong to a greater reality, thereby overcoming the profound loneliness of the secularised West. The question remains, as it always has, an anthropological one: who is man, what is the meaning of his life, and what relationships truly satisfy his profound need for love? That love which is God himself.”

The vitality of the Church in Africa is often contrasted with the lethargy of secularised Europe – even though there are bright spots, such as Norway under Bishop Erik Varden, or the record number of baptisms in France. Is there not, however, a risk of emphasising this great expression of African faith without taking into account the risks of a ‘young’ faith, as Benedict XVI highlighted many years ago? Pope Ratzinger spoke of Africa as an ‘immense spiritual lung’ but added that lungs can fall ill. “Certainly,” replies Cardinal Robert Sarah, a Guinean, “Africa is a spiritual lung; moreover, as Pope Paul VI said: nova patria Christi, the new homeland of Christ is Africa. This can be said, of course, both in demographic terms and because Christianity is constantly expanding. But, like all young realities, it is fragile and needs support; and Europe, with its long theological, liturgical and monastic experience – in its finest cultural, faith-based and centuries-old expression – can still offer this support. Sometimes African priests who come to study in Europe fail to grasp the full grandeur and strength of the two-thousand-year-old Christian faith, because Europe, too, is fragile, distracted and unable to convey its own profound identity. I believe there can be a reciprocal relationship between Africa and Europe: Africa, with its contribution of a young, fresh, enthusiastic faith, wide open to martyrdom; and Europe, with its two-thousand-year-old strength of holiness and doctrine. A difficult balance, but not an impossible one.”

And when we talk about Africa, we cannot fail to mention the persecution of Christians, even though the issue does not particularly concern those who organise the running orders for television debates in our part of the world. Pope Francis said that the persecuted were “more numerous now than in the early centuries of the Church”. Often, however, there is a tendency to claim that there is no persecution, but that these are merely conflicts over control of natural resources. And, looking eastwards, the situation in China is by no means any better. “The tragedy of persecution is not incidental to Christianity, but is part of the very essence of Christian identity. Christ himself was persecuted and died on the cross for us; we could therefore say that the structure of martyrdom is essential to Christianity; there is no Christianity without martyrdom. If, in some parts of the world, for a certain period of time, persecution is not experienced, the risk is that the faith will become lukewarm, nonchalant, incapable of genuine witness. That said, it is quite evident that news coverage is selective: particularly where persecution occurs in developing countries, the value of those lives is not taken into account at all, and the Western media often ignore the phenomenon entirely. I believe that Europe is terribly afraid to acknowledge that anti-Christian – and, more generally, anti-religious – persecution is taking place. Yet persecution is crueller in Europe. Faith is marginalised; moral and Christian values are under attack. The West has killed God – or rather, has despised Him, indeed openly fought against Him. Admitting this would mean taking consistent action, something which Europe probably lacks the strength to do. Yet Christians must be protected, especially where they are a minority, just like all minorities. The situation in China is highly complex, and one must hope that the secret agreement is intended solely to facilitate evangelisation, and not to compromise with a government that is, in fact, fundamentally anti-religious.”

The agreement with China is one of the defining moments of Pope Francis’s pontificate which, however one views and assesses it, has been divisive, even within ‘secular’ debate. In the general congregations that preceded the Conclave, the search for unity was evident. How can we assist, in this endeavour, a Pope like Leo, who has made unity his motto and his style of governance? “The first way to help the Pope is to support him daily through our prayers, so that he may truly allow himself to be enlightened by the Holy Spirit – not by following his own personal thoughts or allowing himself to be influenced by a group of people, but by listening to what God says to his Church. Certainly, Pope Leo, in this first year of his pontificate, has shown great balance, a great capacity for listening, and a genuine willingness to heal even those tensions that had arisen. His prudence, his calm demeanour and his human warmth give us confidence that we can truly move in this direction. We can also assist him in his discernment by presenting to him the various situations facing the Church and the world, offering possible avenues for resolution, but above all by providing him with as much information as possible so that he may make a careful assessment and take the necessary decisions. I am convinced that the Holy Father Leo knows full well what the goal is, and is seeking, with the help of the Cardinals, the most viable paths to reach it. Let us give thanks to the Lord for the gift of Pope Leo.”

Talking about unity when considering liturgical matters seems complicated. It is a divisive issue, with two opposing sides. On the one hand, there are those who claim the use of the vetus ordo as though it were a victory; on the other, an ideological camp that almost regards these Catholics as a ‘sect’ to be eradicated. The Pope has said he wishes to understand the situation fully, to engage in dialogue and to speak with everyone. According to Cardinal Robert Sarah, “it is a tragedy, indeed a veritable sin, that on a matter as essential as the liturgy there should be a sort of war. The liturgy is the source of the Church’s communion, and it is unthinkable that on liturgical matters – indeed, I would say ritual matters – there should be such a clash and such fierce opposition. No one has authority over the rites, which stem from the Church’s centuries-old history. Rites cannot be arbitrarily abolished, and no one can declare that a rite no longer exists from one day to the next. I believe we must give serious consideration to this issue, returning to the balanced, pastoral and theologically grounded position of Benedict XVI, who allowed both forms of the Latin rite to coexist, to influence one another, and to be known by the holy people of God, who, over the decades, will be able to choose which form best corresponds to their own need for faith, silence and spirituality. Certain excesses on the part of those attached to the extraordinary form are, in part, justified by the dramatic and widespread abuses of the ordinary form of the liturgy, which, to this day, is often not celebrated as the Council would have wished and as the liturgical reform itself suggests. The liturgy is not the property of the celebrant, whoever they may be—priest, bishop or cardinal. The liturgy belongs to God; we enter into it, and no one is its master.” Perhaps, however, the problem runs even deeper. Let us consider the quality of homilies, which are often poorly prepared and rarely capable of leaving a lasting impression on the hearts and minds of the faithful. Not to mention the celebrations themselves, where references to the transcendent are frequently reduced to mere asides. What is to be done? “I have already answered this in part. The key is liturgical formation – formation, and yet more formation. For bishops, priests and laypeople alike. The restoration of a sense of the sacred, in a secularised society that has cast God out, can only take place through the proclamation of the truth, through steadfast and constant catechesis, and through concrete experiences of silence and spirituality within the liturgical celebration. The respect due to God and personal humility are fundamental elements in restoring a sense of the sacred and fidelity to the celebration as the Church intends it. After all, no one would presume to enter the Sistine Chapel and alter Michelangelo’s Last Judgement. Now, the Missal is far more important, far older and far more binding than Michelangelo’s Last Judgement; therefore, no one may correct, remove, add or alter anything in the rite as the Church presents it to the faithful. And the faithful have the sacrosanct right to participate in Holy Masses celebrated as the Church intends, and not according to the arbitrary will or whim of an individual priest.”

2 August 1057. Stephen IX (X), Frederick Gozzelon of the House of Lorraine, was elected. Before he was thirty, he became a cardinal (not a bishop) and later a monk and abbot at Monte Cassino. Close to Ildebrando of Soana, the future Gregory VII, he was part of the group of reformist cardinals brought together by Leo IX to reform the Church. His election by the cardinals took place in complete freedom following the death of Victor II and without waiting for the approval of Empress Agnes, regent for the young Henry IV. He was the last German Pope before Ratzinger; unlike his immediate predecessors, he was not a bishop at the time of his election and was not chosen by the secular authorities. Despite a pontificate lasting just eight months, he zealously continued the work of reforming the Church: he reinforced clerical celibacy and fought against marriage between blood relatives and against simony.

6 August 523. Ormisda died; before becoming a priest, he had been married and had a son named Silverius (who would later become Pope). Ormisda addressed the issue of the schism with the Eastern Church, which had arisen from Christological disputes and Patriarch Acacius of Constantinople’s refusal to accept the conclusions of the Council of Chalcedon in 415. The issue had profound geopolitical repercussions and dragged on for decades under various popes and emperors, as Rome demanded the posthumous condemnation of Acacius and full recognition of the council. The deadlock was broken in 519, when the new emperor Justin I and the Patriarch of Constantinople, John II, accepted Pope Ormisda’s conditions, bringing an end to the schism. The Pope had also commissioned the learned Scythian monk Dionysius the Little to translate the canons of the Eastern Church into Latin. Dionysius was the inventor of the new calendar based on the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, which his calculations placed in the year 753 from the founding of Rome. Today we know that he made some errors and that the birth of Jesus is to be placed between 7 and 4 BC.

“And so,” continued Weimer, “I ask: do you really want to return to völkisch ideology, to a Germanic construct? The issue of Christmas becomes the focal point of all this; that is why I am addressing the subject.” Weimer spoke of a “neo-nationalism” that seeks to “shut everything down, from the Bauhaus right through to institutions linked to the Churches”, and for this reason too, a more forceful campaign of condemnation is needed. And the Church has decided to take a stand, despite threats from the far right to target it – particularly financially – if it continues to campaign against the AfD. Elections are due to be held in several German Länder this September; in Saxony-Anhalt, the polls put the nationalist party at 41 per cent, and in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania at 36 per cent. Compounded by the crisis of confidence currently facing the government led by Chancellor Friedrich Merz, there are now few observers who do not believe the AfD will become Germany’s largest party. The Catholic and Protestant Churches have begun actively campaigning through posters displayed in schools, parishes and social institutions, as well as through specially organised meetings. The message is simple: vote for democratic parties and oppose extremism. The Archbishop of Hamburg, Monsignor Stefan Hesse, has called on people to “seize this opportunity to make our parishes and our institutions places of dialogue and democracy”. During the last Lent, it was the Bishop of Magdeburg, Monsignor Gerhard Feige, who warned his fellow countrymen: “If the AfD’s draft for a possible government programme following the elections in Saxony-Anhalt were to be taken seriously, then liberal democracy and pluralism, religious freedom as we know it, and tolerance would be a thing of the past.”

The Christian population is at an all-time low: before the civil war, there were two million. Today, there are three hundred thousand left, perhaps three hundred and fifty thousand. “If this trend continues, Christianity will disappear from this region.” Despite this, he does not side with the majority of local bishops who are calling on those who have fled to return home; quite the contrary. The economic situation is dire; there is a lack of work and security is not guaranteed. A year ago, a suicide bombing during Sunday afternoon Mass devastated the Greek Orthodox Church of Mar Elias, one of Damascus’s oldest and most revered monuments. More than twenty people were killed and dozens injured. It was not a random target: that church had always been a symbol of dialogue and coexistence between different faiths. The attacker – affiliated with what remains of the Islamic State – knew full well what that place represented. And this is precisely what the bishop laments today: “We need more spaces for encounter beyond confessional and religious boundaries so that coexistence can once again succeed”, but the government seems very unwilling to move in this direction. There is no pluralism, nor is it being sought: “Why are there only six Christians and only five women in the new Syrian Parliament?”, he asked. A Parliament whose members, as Bishop Mourad emphasised, are largely Islamist fundamentalists, many of whom hail from Idlib itself, the capital of the Caliphate of the late Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi. Not exactly a good calling card for the new Syria, which arouses so much curiosity and compassion in the West.

“In fact, the terms ‘assisted suicide’ and ‘euthanasia’ have been prudently omitted from the text of the draft law on ‘assistance in dying’, which has just been definitively approved, by a narrow majority, by the National Assembly at its third reading. This demonstrates a fear of the impact these words might have on public opinion and on the relationship of trust between healthcare professionals and patients. But this is pure hypocrisy, because what they wish to legalise is precisely the lethal injection which, under the pretext of alleviating intractable suffering, constitutes an act deliberately intended to cause death”. In practice, says Monsignor Aillet, “it is as if, faced with a man who, in a moment of despair, were about to throw himself out of a window right before your eyes, you were to help him by pushing him into the void. It may seem a simplistic comparison, but it is effectively what has just been voted for by the majority of MPs. It seems to me that the government’s push – whose agenda was known from the very start of this presidential term – the lack of critical scrutiny by many MPs regarding a complex piece of legislation, and the unilateral pressure exerted by powerful lobby groups that have been active for years, have prevailed over the hesitations of numerous MPs who, in their own words, voted ‘according to their conscience’, whilst ignoring the warnings issued by healthcare professionals directly involved, the vast majority of whom are opposed to assisted suicide and euthanasia. There was a refusal to listen to those who, with recognised professional expertise and extraordinary dedication, work daily in palliative care.”

How can we explain this cultural shift, which is distinctly Western, leading to legislation on death rather than on pro-life policies, such as those concerning the birth rate? Do you see a contradiction in this behaviour? 

Monsignor Marc Aillet replies: “We find ourselves in a state of complete contradiction. On the one hand, as in France, the right to abortion is enshrined in the Constitution, and medically assisted reproduction without a father and surrogacy are promoted for same-sex couples who wish to have a child. The child is no longer regarded as possessing intrinsic dignity, prior to any recognition by society: instead, the child is subordinated to the desires of adults or to parental plans. Thus, a new form of slavery is established, democratically, which produces a class of ‘sub-humans’. The argument of compassion is merely a façade: this is a deliberate political choice, underpinned by an ideology of death and base economic calculations. Consumerist individualism prevails throughout the West: the freedom to enjoy life without limits. But this freedom will never truly be accessible except to the wealthiest; the poor, under the pressure of this culture encouraged by the legislator, will end up stepping aside of their own accord – but with what ‘free and informed consent’?”

The large-scale mobilisation of the French laity came as quite a surprise. Did you expect it?

“There is no doubt that this long-running debate on end-of-life issues, with its many twists and turns since the start of this five-year term, has seen an extraordinary mobilisation of Christian-inspired pro-life organisations. The bishops of France, too, have been more actively engaged than ever before, undertaking a genuine programme of education and awareness-raising to provide the faithful with in-depth information and to bring their full moral weight to bear, both in relation to the general public and through intensive lobbying and dialogue with parliamentarians and the government. The novelty – as Monsignor Aillet emphasises – is that the Catholic laity, through highly active organisations – Alliance Vita, Fondation Lejeune, Associations Familiales Catholiques… – has joined forces with associations of healthcare professionals and organisations representing people with disabilities, as well as with the Société Française d’Accompagnement et de Soins Palliatifs, which, as a competent body, has consistently made its viewpoint heard. Faced with the propaganda in favour of euthanasia – widely publicised in the media and state-funded, driven by organisations such as the ADMD and strongly backed by Masonic lodges – and faced, moreover, with a citizens’ convention almost exclusively dominated by euthanasia advocates, in which pro-life voices were neither heard nor taken into consideration, this was a battle of David against Goliath.”

Did this mobilisation have an effect, despite the vote?

“This campaign has succeeded in changing the stance of many parliamentarians: the Senate ultimately refused to vote on the bill, the number of MPs in favour of ‘assisted dying’ dwindled as the debate progressed, and it is likely that, without the race against time imposed by the government, the vote might have had a different outcome! Moreover, the overwhelming majority of healthcare staff – doctors, nurses and social care workers – are opposed to the legalisation of assisted suicide and euthanasia; and public opinion, when surveyed objectively by polling organisations – that is, without presenting euthanasia as the only alternative to suffering – tends to reject ‘assisted dying’ and favours palliative care, universal access to which, despite having once again been unanimously approved by Parliament, is still not guaranteed. This is a long-term endeavour that is beginning to bear fruit and will ultimately prevail, because this is where reason and true compassion lie: that of healthcare professionals who devote themselves body and soul to the sick and the most vulnerable, particularly in palliative care units. They are truly credible, because they are in touch with reality, in contrast to the armchair and television studio ideologues who promote the ‘right to die with dignity’.”

What now?

“I note that, in the face of the various appeals to the Constitutional Council, the mobilisation shows no sign of waning and there is no sense of discouragement: the associations remain vigilant and are more committed than ever to supporting the most vulnerable, providing care and helping them to live out their lives to the very end!”

However, many Catholics, too, support legislation on end-of-life issues. Their reasoning is that it is a ‘matter of dignity’. In short, it is up to me to decide how I die and, ultimately, what is the point of suffering when the outcome is inevitable? These are common and significant questions. How do you respond, as a man of faith and a pastor?

“It is indeed true that words no longer have the same meaning, even amongst some Catholics who are more open to the spirit of the world than to the teaching of the Magisterium. For them – and this is the atmosphere they breathe, steeped in what Pope Benedict XVI called ‘the dictatorship of relativism’ – human dignity is equated with absolute freedom: the freedom to decide on one’s own life and death, which nevertheless clashes with the impossibility of deciding when one’s life begins! It is clear to see what self-destruction such a conception of society leads to, in which the strongest inevitably end up prevailing over the weakest! For us, however, as the Second Vatican Council rightly recalled in its Pastoral Constitution "Gaudium et Spes", the dignity of the human person is linked to the notion of the ‘image of God’: man was created – and this does indeed impose a limit upon him – in the image of God, which confers upon him an eminent dignity. Indeed, within the framework of his nature—which he did not create for himself but received from the Creator—he is called by God to become like God, being endowed with intelligence, free will and his own capacity for action. This freedom is not indifferent to good and evil, but, as a faculty of reason and will, is rooted in man’s natural inclinations towards truth and friendship: we are free to love in truth, and we find our true selves only in the selfless gift of ourselves! By nature we are bound to and dependent on one another, and it is by freely embracing this original dependence that we experience the benefits of solidarity and brotherhood, especially alongside the most vulnerable: this is the hallmark of a civilisation worthy of the name!”.

And what about the issue of suffering?

“Suffering is a trial for everyone and, for us Christians, finds its ultimate meaning only in the mystery of Christ who died and rose again: it is through the cross – which we are often legitimately tempted to avoid – that Jesus Christ has saved us. Suffering evokes compassion in others; the suffering of another is, for each of us, a call to alleviate it both physically and morally, and, in this sense, it is no longer absurd! The outcome of suffering is certainly not always healing, but it is the victory of love given and received – through God’s grace and the active compassion of our loved ones – over meaninglessness, despair and death. With Christ, death is not a failure: it is overcome by the life that the Risen One promises and offers us. In this sense, it is wrong to speak of ‘end of life’ and ‘assistance in dying’: these expressions reflect the attitude of those who have no hope and do not believe in an afterlife. Accompanying someone to the end of life means drawing upon the life-giving forces within each of us; it means finding the source of love that is stronger than death! Palliative care professionals know this from experience: in the vast majority of cases, when a patient is relieved of pain and well cared for, they no longer ask for death.”

All this whilst, in two months’ time, the Pope is due to visit France: Paris, Metz and Lourdes, a symbolic place for so many who are suffering. In June, Leo XIV, speaking to the Spanish Parliament, recalled that life must be protected from conception until its natural end. Do you think the French vote could have repercussions on this much-anticipated visit?

“Yes, it is true that the Pope has been invited to visit France by the very same President of the Republic who has made the promotion of the right to euthanasia and assisted suicide a point of honour, whilst being fully aware of the Church’s position, which Pope Leo XIV has already set out at length, particularly before the Spanish Cortes and probably also during the private audience granted to Emmanuel Macron last April: this borders on political schizophrenia! By the time the Pope sets foot on French soil, the law will already have been passed by Parliament, but the matter will be in the midst of appeals before the Constitutional Council, and the implementing decrees will not yet have been issued by the government or may be challenged before the Council of State. The Pope will still have complete freedom to speak, which is beyond doubt, as suggested by the theme of his journey: ‘That the world may have life’. We know that the Holy Father is due to address UNESCO in Paris and speak at the grotto of Massabielle in Lourdes, where countless sick pilgrims and people with disabilities flock in hope. It is inconceivable that the Pope would not seize this opportunity to make a genuine appeal in favour of supporting the vulnerable right to the end, speaking out once again ‘with serenity and firmness’ against euthanasia and assisted suicide. I do not know what impact this might have on the government, but in the current context it will inevitably have a major impact on public opinion and will encourage many of the faithful and men and women of good will to continue fighting the good fight for life to the very end! After that, everything is entrusted to God’s grace!”.

In between, a lunch with a group of vulnerable people from the Diocese of Rome and an evening concert of symphonic music hosted by the Diocese of Albano. A three-week break, though not a complete one: he is always reachable; even at the swimming pool there are communication devices. On Sunday, it’s back to Rome, barring any last-minute changes (as happened last year). It won’t be the mountain holidays of the mountaineer Wojtyla, but it’s something close to that: to tackle schisms, malicious gossip and underhand attacks, one needs to recharge one’s batteries. 

27 July 1061. Nicholas II, Gerard of Burgundy, died. He had been elected in Siena in an unusual manner, by five cardinal bishops, without the involvement of the clergy or the Roman people. His pontificate proved crucial for the libertas Ecclesiae, one of the main aims of the reform of the Church in the 11th century. To definitively remove the papal election from the control of secular power, particularly imperial authority, he promulgated the bull "In nomine Domini" in 1059, by which he established that the choice of the Pope rested solely with the cardinal-bishops, by majority vote, who were then joined by the other cardinals and, finally, by the clergy and the people for approval; the Pope thus elected immediately possessed the full powers of the office, irrespective of his taking possession of the Roman See and his enthronement; during the vacancy of the See, the cardinal bishops were responsible for the Roman Church. The decree drastically reduced the electoral college, and the election was effectively removed from lay control. The procedures were further clarified 120 years later, when Alexander III established that popes were to be elected by all the cardinals by a two-thirds majority, rules which remain in force to this day.

29 July 1644. Urban VIII, the Florentine Maffeo Barberini, died. Pope for over twenty years, he carried out noteworthy initiatives, such as the foundation of a college for the training of missionaries and a multilingual printing press to publish books in alphabets other than those used in Europe. He played a part in the reform of the breviary, promulgated new procedures for the canonisation of saints, approved various religious orders, acted repeatedly to ensure the implementation of the decrees of the Council of Trent, and left a profound artistic legacy in Rome, particularly through the work of Gian Lorenzo Bernini. His political involvement, however, was not quite so constructive. Highly self-assured and at times irascible, he too was responsible for the hardening of attitudes that led to the definitive condemnation of Galileo Galilei, of whom he had been an admirer and personal friend. He radically changed his stance after realising that his own arguments against heliocentrism had been attributed to Simplicio, a character in "Dialogo sopra i due massimi sistemi del mondo" who personified a famous Aristotelian commentator, often derided in the Florentine scientist’s work as a ‘simpleton’.

Just over a year after the election of Leo XIV, it is therefore clear that nothing has changed from the previous pontificate regarding relations – in terms of episcopal appointments – with the People’s Republic of China. Beijing chooses the bishops and Rome signs off on them, granting its approval. At times – as is known only because the Holy See has publicly expressed its irritation via a press release – the Chinese authorities proceed without even seeking the Vatican’s (largely formal) approval. This occurred on 26 November 2022, when the Holy See ‘noted with surprise and regret the news of the “installation ceremony”, which took place on 24 November in Nanchang, of His Excellency Monsignor Giovanni Peng Weizhao, Bishop of Yujiang (Jiangxi Province), as “auxiliary bishop of Jiangxi”, a diocese not recognised by the Holy See. This event, in fact, did not take place in accordance with the spirit of dialogue between the Vatican and the Chinese authorities, nor with the provisions of the Provisional Agreement on the Appointment of Bishops, dated 22 September 2018. Furthermore, according to reports, the civil recognition of Bishop Peng was preceded by prolonged and intense pressure from the local authorities.”

The point is: could something different have been done now? The Pope, in the only interview he has granted to date, spoke about the Chinese issue and stated straight away that ‘in the short term’ he would continue ‘the line that the Holy See has followed for some years now, and which has been pursued by several of my predecessors. (…) I am also in constant dialogue with various Chinese people on both sides of some of the issues at stake. I am trying to gain a better understanding of how the Church can continue its mission, respecting both the culture and the political issues, whilst also respecting a significant group of Chinese Catholics who, for many years, have experienced a kind of oppression or difficulty in freely practising their faith, without having to choose sides. Ostpolitik – the choices made to say, in realistic terms: ‘This is what we can do now, as we move towards the future’ – I am certainly taking these into consideration, along with other experiences I have had in the past in dealing with Chinese people – both in government and amongst religious leaders and laypeople. It is a very difficult situation. In the long term, I do not presume to say what I will or will not do, but after two months I have already begun to hold discussions at various levels on this issue.”

It is clear, therefore, that Leone is proceeding without much enthusiasm, or at the very least with considerable doubts. But could he have immediately disavowed an agreement of such magnitude that had been negotiated behind the scenes for years? What would the consequences have been for the faithful in China? We are certainly not talking about the somewhat folkloric ‘self-consecrations’ witnessed earlier this month in Écône. What would have happened to the bishops in China? The Pope must have concluded that a degree of stabilisation is better than chaos and that it is preferable (for the time being) to have a relationship structured by a written agreement rather than nothing at all. Even though the restrictions on religious freedom and worship are glaringly obvious, as repeatedly denounced by independent observers (including Catholics) who have been documenting events in China for years: from the ban on minors attending Mass to the prohibition – in some provinces – of ‘noisy’ liturgical hymns. Not to mention, of course, the oaths of allegiance to the supreme leader and the obligation to display portraits of Xi Jinping in churches. In the long term, however, it is by no means certain that things will remain this way. These are not mere dark premonitions. They are the Pope’s own words.

Weigel summarises events from 2022 to the present day, noting that “Kyiv should not be forced to endure all this”. He begins by drawing a comparison with the Japanese during the Second World War, for whom surrender was a disgrace and who therefore had to fight to the death, if necessary. “Russian barbarism in Ukraine is even worse,” writes Weigel, “because it is allegedly justified by invoking Christian faith and truth.” The war is being waged in the name of God, as is evident from the grim homily delivered at the start of the conflict by Patriarch Kirill of Moscow, who justified the aggression ordered by Vladimir Putin as a ‘religiously justified’ holy war between Christian Russia and the satanic West, to which Ukraine aspired to join.” A – as Weigel observes – “sacrilegious campaign aimed at blessing what cannot be justified has continued ever since and has been condemned by Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I of Constantinople, the ‘first among equals’ in the leadership of the Orthodox Churches”. And this brings us to the central point. Given the situation, it is legitimate to raise “urgent questions about the limits of dialogue in certain historical circumstances”. This is, in a way, the gist of what Volodymyr Zelenskyy told Archbishop Paul Richard Gallagher (the Vatican’s Secretary for Relations with States) during their meeting two days ago in Kyiv: dialogue is wonderful and indispensable, but how can it take place when the other side refuses to come to the negotiating table and bombs every Ukrainian city day and night? Weigel recalls Winston Churchill, “who in 1940 was prepared to resort even to the use of mustard gas to halt a possible German invasion of Britain”, but who, as a general principle, maintained that it was “better to talk face to face than to wage war”. This is why the Pope’s constant calls for dialogue are certainly not in vain; he consistently reminds us that war always represents a defeat for humanity. These are not empty or mere platitudes: “We are rational beings, endowed with the gift of reason, which should enable us to resolve our conflicts without resorting to mass violence”. For this reason, writes the American intellectual, “the failure of rational debate to resolve conflicts is always a cause for regret”. That said, he points out, we must also regret other things, such as “surrendering to tyranny”. The real genocide currently taking place, he emphasises, is that in Ukraine, where an attempt is being made to wipe out a nation and its culture. The world (or a large part of it) is acquiescent, failing to provide support ‘by every possible means’ to those who, ‘risking their lives every day, are resisting the tyrants and murderers who deliberately target civilians in an attempt to break the will to resist of an entire country’. For this reason too, in short, limiting oneself to dialogue fails to do justice to the complexity of the problem. Indeed, “a proportionate and targeted use of armed force can create the conditions to make possible the kind of dialogue capable of leading to a peace founded on security, freedom and justice”. There are, in fact, situations “in which genuine dialogue and real negotiations become possible only when the aggressor (or those who keep them in power) realises not only that their attempts at conquest are doomed to failure, but also that the continuation of the aggression entails unsustainable costs”. It is then that the conditions may arise – though this is neither a certainty nor a dogma – for reason “to finally play its part in resolving the conflict”. And this, according to George Weigel, is the situation in Ukraine today.

Gallagher immediately emphasised that he had ‘witnessed’ the heavy Russian attack carried out on the night of 19 July (41 missiles and 125 drones launched across the country, mostly on the capital, causing numerous fires in various neighbourhoods) and that he had seen first-hand the dangers to which the population is constantly exposed. The bishop informed Zelensky of the Pope’s support (whom Zelensky has met on several occasions, including at Castel Gandolfo) and reiterated that the primary means of ending the conflict must be diplomatic, as also noted by representatives of the All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organisations. On this point, more or less, the parties were in agreement. The question is: how? Monsignor Gallagher reiterated his willingness to host a ‘leadership-level’ meeting at the Vatican, Zelensky expressed his agreement, thanking Rome for its help in the complex operation to repatriate Ukrainian children abducted by the Russians (Cardinal Matteo Zuppi, who had been appointed by Pope Francis and confirmed by Pope Leo XIV to oversee the case of the abducted children, was also present there in recent days) and for the return home of civilians whom – as the President put it – “Russia is holding illegally captive”. The Holy See has confirmed its support for Kyiv’s accession to the European Union. The Ukrainian Foreign Minister, Andrii Sybiha, said he had “briefed Archbishop Gallagher on the situation on the battlefield, Ukraine’s peace efforts and Europe’s growing role in promoting a global and lasting peace”. The Kremlin continues to intensify its terror against civilians and is expanding its campaign to recruit mercenaries worldwide, including in Africa. We discussed ways to help prevent such exploitation of vulnerable communities through dialogue with partners and religious leaders.”

The problem is always the same: it is Russia that refuses to negotiate, and refuses to negotiate at the Vatican. Whilst at the start of the conflict Moscow had sought to align itself with Rome in order to gain visibility and break the Western front of support for Kyiv – a move that, for decades, has been employed, for example, by the Iran of the ayatollahs, even in recent months – subsequently, its resistance has been total. This is partly for purely religious reasons: the hardline, nationalist and conservative wing of the Moscow Patriarchate cannot accept that the Pope of Rome should act as mediator. 

“It is not appropriate for Orthodox countries to discuss issues relating to the elimination of root causes in a Catholic forum,” said Sergei Lavrov, closing off any possibility of compromise. And then, of course, there was no easy way to make amends for Pope Francis’s quip to Kirill via Zoom: simply to act as “Putin’s altar boy”. Furthermore, it was precisely the statements made by Archbishop Gallagher that had unnerved the Kremlin; at the UN – and thus before an audience that has always been favoured by the Russians – he had said that “the Holy See stands with Ukraine and fully supports its territorial integrity”. He thus went beyond even that line of thinking, widespread within the Curia and in various Catholic circles, according to which peace – or at least an effective truce – can only be achieved by freezing the conflict along the current front lines, somewhat in the Korean style, leaving Putin with what he has occupied over four years of war. The week’s statement from the Vatican’s third-ranking official has made it clear, once again, that Rome stands with Kyiv. Without any ‘buts’ or speculations about NATO pressure on the borders.

Andy Burnham is, in fact, a staunch supporter of abortion; he is firmly in favour of same-sex marriage and has no reservations whatsoever about assisted suicide for the terminally ill. Or rather, he did have some reservations about the bill put forward by his party, but not on moral or ethical grounds: he was not convinced that hospices dedicated to ending the lives of those requesting it had sufficient funding. The Times, in an attempt to frame all this within a Catholic or at least Christian framework, wrote that he focuses on the substance of the matter – people’s lived experiences – rather than on ‘theological abstractions’. Such as, to be clear, those of Benedict XVI, whom he criticised for an exaggerated ‘prescriptive approach’. His spiritual ethos, he said, is inspired by the motto ‘live and let live’ – not exactly the Christian sign of contradiction, in short. And yet he ought to know a thing or two about the subject: as a boy, he never missed a Sunday Mass; his mother (who is Irish) recounted that he was always arguing with his brothers over who should be the leader of the altar boys, and of course ‘Andy always had to be the one at the front, holding the communion plate’. He doesn’t seem to remember this; on the contrary, in an interview some time ago he said that his Catholicism had been lived “without ostentation”. He also used a colourful but undoubtedly effective expression: “We don’t lick (he was referring to himself and his wife) the steps of the altar”. Nowadays he either doesn’t go to Mass at all or goes very rarely (at Christmas and Easter), and the National Catholic Register has, not coincidentally, described him as an “à la carte Catholic”. For him, the Church’s social doctrine means applying the principles of fairness and justice to public policy – nothing more. He was very fond of Pope Francis, whom he met in 2023; that encounter was, for him, “the most moving experience of my life”. He presented him with an autographed shirt belonging to Lisandro Martínez, a Manchester United defender (though the new Prime Minister is a die-hard Everton fan) and, above all, an Argentine. Bergoglio thanked him for the gift, but above all for his commitment to the homeless: after all, the care provided to them in Manchester was the same as that seen beneath Bernini’s colonnade in St Peter’s Square. A shared sentiment, then. However, once the excitement of having been in the presence of the Vicar of Christ on earth had subsided, Burnham urged the Pontiff to bring the Church into the twenty-first century, as it had fallen behind by at least two hundred years in matters of rights, in true Martinian fashion. In any case, Andy Burnham, who used to insist on being the leader of the altar boys, now says he is not quite sure whether God really exists. What he had gleaned from the catechism, when he studied it tirelessly, was that the practical, earthly realisation of what was written there was the Labour Party. A rather confused form of Catholicism, to say the least.

A very clear situation – and not a recent one – which had, however, led several experts on Africa, some with a fair following within the Vatican and the media, to declare that there was no religious motive whatsoever, and that one would be in trouble just for thinking otherwise. It’s the fault of the climate going haywire: since those arid lands lack water and grass for the herds, people go and take it wherever they can find it, stealing it from others, who, purely by chance, happen to be mostly Christian. Collateral damage, in short. What was missing from the dominant narrative, however, were the raids on churches – often set alight – involving beheadings and kidnappings. Perhaps a bit too much, really, just to get water and land. The situation in sub-Saharan Africa is spiralling out of control: not only in Nigeria and Burkina Faso, but also further south, in Mozambique, where the toll of Islamist raids, deaths and abductions is rising by the day. All amidst the utter silence of a distracted West.

The Church’s reactions, as usual, were lukewarm, and it seems almost absurd to have to discuss humpback whales on the cross: “This presents an image of the Church that has nothing to do with the Church that actually exists,” said Joachim Valentin, director of the Rabanus Maurus Catholic Academy in Frankfurt, to the KNA news agency. “We worship the Redeemer of humanity, not just any sacrifice,” he added. According to the liturgist Albert Gerhards, “transposing the death on the cross onto a whale is inappropriate. For Christians, the death of Jesus is a unique and unrepeatable event. If this motif is applied to other spectacular acts of suffering, there is a risk of emptying it of its specific religious significance, rendering its meaning arbitrary.” Two weeks after his rescue, Timmy was found dead off the coast of Denmark. Not even an echo of the Aboriginal songs remains. The only discussion now centres on how much money (2 million euros) was spent on the futile rescue operation.

“By choosing to legalise euthanasia and assisted suicide,” the statement reads, “MPs have enshrined in French law the possibility of causing death. This decision breaks with the long tradition of care, whose purpose is to alleviate suffering and to accompany every person to the natural end of their life.” There is also criticism of Macron, who “had announced a calm, informed and respectful debate, but it is clear that political, ideological and undoubtedly also economic considerations, masked by misleading rhetoric, have prevailed over this ambition. An issue so fundamental to our social contract nevertheless deserved full consideration of the human, medical, ethical and social consequences of euthanasia and assisted suicide”. The bishops announce that the campaign will continue, whilst closely monitoring “the appeals announced to the Constitutional Council”. The aim is to do everything possible to ensure “respect for ethical principles in facilities dedicated to supporting people at the end of life, which exclude the use of euthanasia or assisted suicide”.

The sensitivity of the issue is also demonstrated by the stance taken by the Little Sisters of the Poor, who have been committed since the 19th century to caring for vulnerable elderly people right through to the end: “We would rather die than take a life,” the nuns told La Croix. This sentiment is widespread, and the pressure on Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu – a Catholic whom Macron described as a ‘soldier-monk’ (he had considered becoming a Benedictine monk in his youth) – is intense: accused of having remained silent for months, he has now – following the law’s passage – announced that he will refer the matter to the Constitutional Council to verify whether the measure fully respects ‘the dignity of the person’. In the Pope’s prayer intentions for the month of July, published as ever at the start of the month, Leo had emphasised that “every person is a sacred gift” who reflects the face of God “from the very first moment of their existence until the last breath of their journey on earth”. These are concepts he had, moreover, already referred to a month ago when addressing the Spanish Parliament.

There is a risk that the cordial understanding between the current occupant of the Élysée Palace and the Holy See could falter, and the opportunities to highlight the rift are clearly marked on the calendar for the forthcoming trip to France: the large prayer vigil at the Stade de France on Friday 25 September, and Mass at the Place de la Concorde and on the Champs-Élysées the following day. Not to mention what the Pope might say in Lourdes, where the issue is deeply felt for obvious reasons. Father Andrea Ciucci, chancellor of the Pontifical Academy for Life, told the Vatican media that “brothers cannot take the lives of other brothers. Brotherhood is at the service of life, not of death”.

There seems to be no sign of reconciliation, at least for the time being: the Bishop of Bayonne, Monsignor Marc Aillet, has described “assisted dying” as a “sham”. The aim of the law, he said, is to “legalise assisted suicide and euthanasia, terms which appear neither in the title nor in the body of the text”. In an interview with France Catholique, the bishop added that “public support for a law that is seriously contrary to the Church’s moral teaching poses a real problem of ecclesial coherence. Catholic MPs who voted in favour of this law must consider its consequences. If they are aware of this inconsistency, they will no longer be able to receive Holy Communion. The Church is justified in reminding them of this, as some bishops in the United States have done. I would like to invite them to a sincere examination of conscience.”

As they await the Pope’s arrival, the bishops are making preparations: “Beyond disapproval”, they write in the aforementioned statement, “this resolution of 15 July therefore calls us to a renewed commitment, alongside families, support workers, volunteers, carers, associations and chaplains, to bear witness that another path is possible – that of a faithful presence and attentive support which soothe physical or psychological suffering, without ever abandoning anyone”. The measure was finally approved with 291 votes in favour and 241 against.

20 July 1903. Leo XIII, Vincenzo Gioacchino Pecci, died after a pontificate lasting 25 years. Elected during a period of great tension, his first decision – a deeply painful one – was not to impart the papal blessing from the external loggia of St Peter’s but from the one inside the basilica. This gesture represented a strong protest against the Kingdom of Italy, which had put an end to the temporal power of the popes. He, too, considered himself a ‘prisoner’ in the Vatican, like his predecessor Pius IX. Despite this rigid political stance, the pontificate of Leo XIII was particularly innovative and is remembered for its openness towards the modern world. He did not confine himself to condemning what he regarded as doctrinal deviations or threats to the Church, but proposed alternative solutions to the complex problems of the industrial society of the time, characterised by severe social imbalances and the exploitation of the working classes. He did not share either the indifference shown by capitalism and laissez-faire towards the weaker social classes—who were regarded merely as a labour force governed by market forces—nor the communist proposal for a class struggle which, being based on the opposition between the two sides, contained within it the seeds of violence. He intervened with the famous encyclical "Rerum novarum" of 1891, dedicated to the ‘labour question’, which had a seismic impact, dismantling old paradigms and giving rise to what is now known as the social doctrine of the Church. The document also spurred numerous initiatives within the Catholic world, including the spread of rural and workers’ credit unions, cooperatives and other collectively managed economic activities, as well as forms of social security: I would highlight in particular the scheme for “insurance-redemption homes”, which ensured that the dwelling remained with the family of a deceased worker even before all instalments had been paid. Finally, I would like to mention the focus on ecumenism (Leo XIII was the first Pope to use the expression ‘separated brethren’ to refer to non-Catholic Christians) and the opening of the Vatican Secret Archives, which was received with enthusiasm by the academic world.

Mr President, honourable Members of the European Parliament, Friends of ProVita and Family, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for inviting me to share with you, in this House of the peoples of Europe, some reflections that are close to my heart as a son of Africa and as a pastor of the Catholic Church. I do not come to you with a speech for the occasion, but with a question that I consider crucial for the future of our two continents: can we still understand one another? Do the words we use – ‘human rights’, ‘dignity’, ‘development’, ‘freedom’, ‘health’, ‘gender’, ‘family’ – still mean the same thing to those who utter them in Brussels, Strasbourg, Kampala or Conakry?

Last January, when Pope Leo XIV received the Diplomatic Corps accredited to the Holy See, he made a statement that I would like to present as the key to understanding my entire reflection today. The Pope stated: “We need words to once again express certain realities unequivocally. Only in this way can an authentic dialogue, free from misunderstandings, resume.” He is telling us that the crisis we are going through – a geopolitical crisis, a crisis of rights, a crisis of multilateralism – is, at its root, beyond language: a crisis of logos, of reason.

In the dossier prepared for this meeting, which I have studied carefully, it is clearly documented how, in relations between the European Union and Africa, words are now used not to reveal reality, but to conceal it or even to distort it. There is talk of ‘sexual and reproductive health’, which in many cases refers to access to abortion. There is talk of ‘gender equality’, and what is meant, at times, is the deconstruction of the sexual difference between men and women inherent in the human body. We speak of “human rights” for African countries, and what is meant is the imposition of legal categories alien to our history, our faith, our culture and our anthropological outlook. If words no longer mean what they say, how can there be genuine dialogue? How can Africa trust a Europe that speaks in ambiguous, double-meaning terms?

This is not a matter of academic semantics: it is a political issue, a matter of truth and honesty in human relations, of the utmost importance. A treaty, a resolution or an action plan that uses imprecise and ambiguous vocabulary is not an instrument of cooperation, but an instrument of perversion and silent power, of cultural and economic neo-colonialism: whoever controls the meaning of words effectively controls the outcome of the negotiations, without the other party realising it. This is precisely what is happening, and it is what I shall endeavour to shed light on in this lecture, in the light of the Gospel and reason.

I would like to link this analysis to a text that I consider to be of extraordinary relevance today: the encyclical "Magnifica Humanitas", which Pope Leo XIV signed last May. In it, the Pontiff denounces the use of technical, manipulative and deceptive language – designed for the age of artificial intelligence, but applicable, I believe, to many areas of international cooperation – which risks reducing the human person to statistical categories of economic power, rather than recognising them as free beings endowed with transcendent dignity. Leo XIV calls for a way of thinking which is, in his own words, ‘dynamic and faithful to the Gospel’, capable of safeguarding the truth of the person even when the techniques of power – economic, legal and communicative – seek to rewrite it for their own ends. The encyclical tells us that the issue is still, and always will be, anthropological.

So here is the first call I would like to make: let us return to speaking the truth about the individual, the family and peoples, including, and above all, in the context of cooperation between the European Union and Africa.

Benedict XVI and the primacy of the logos

To fully understand this crisis of words, we must trace it back to a deeper source: the crisis of reason itself. And here I must pay tribute to the prophetic clarity of the great Pope, Benedict XVI, who was the first, in three memorable speeches, to diagnose the evil that we now see unfolding in all its severity.

In Regensburg, in September 2006, Pope Benedict XVI recalled that the Christian God acts, to use the Greek expression of Emperor Manuel II Palaeologus (1348–1425) on which he commented, ‘syn logo’, with logos. Logos – the Pope explained – signifies both reason and word: a creative reason, capable of communicating itself, precisely because it is reason. “Not to act in accordance with reason, not to act with the logos, is contrary to the nature of God,” he wrote, quoting the Byzantine emperor. From this follows a consequence that I would like to emphasise strongly before this assembly: a reason which, in the face of the divine, turns a deaf ear and relegates religion to the realm of private subcultures, becomes itself incapable – to quote Benedict once more – of engaging in dialogue between cultures.

Let us apply this principle to the issue of ‘rights’, which is so central to our European debates today. When Europe constructs rights divorced from the truth about humanity – abortion, which some would like to elevate to the status of a ‘fundamental right’; sexual identity, reduced to mere subjective self-definition – reason itself becomes distorted: from an instrument for discovering the truth, it becomes an instrument of power, capable of imposing itself by force of law and money upon those who do not share those premises.

Pope Benedict XVI added, again in Regensburg, that a reason deaf to the divine becomes incapable of genuine intercultural dialogue, because it claims to impose itself as the only possible rational culture, relegating every other view of humanity – starting with the Christian view and that of the great African religious traditions – to the status of superstition to be corrected. That is why, when a set of ideological conditions is presented today as synonymous with ‘modernity’ or ‘progress’, we should recognise in it not an expansion, but a narrowing of reason.

Two years later, at the Collège des Bernardins in Paris, Pope Benedict XVI pointed Europe towards the path of quaerere Deum: “to seek God and allow oneself to be found by Him: this is no less necessary today than in times past”, he told representatives of French cultural life. And he added a warning which, read today, sounds almost prophetic: “A purely positivist culture, which relegates the question of God to the subjective realm as unscientific, would amount to the capitulation of reason, a renunciation of its greatest potential.” Christianity, the Pope went on to explain on that occasion, perceives in human words the Word, the Logos itself: for a Christian, words are never merely a tool, but share in the truth they communicate.

Three years later, in the German Bundestag, Pope Benedict XVI brought this reflection to the very heart of European legislative practice. “Where positivist reason regards itself as the only sufficient culture, relegating all other cultural realities to the status of subcultures, it reduces man; indeed, it threatens his very humanity.” And he asked the German legislators: “How can reason regain its greatness without slipping into the irrational?” This is precisely the question I would like to put to you today, honourable Members of Parliament: is European legislation which claims to be ‘neutral’ towards every anthropological vision, but which in fact imposes – through treaties, aid and trade conditions – a specific and questionable vision of the human person throughout the world, not in fact slipping into the very irrationality against which Pope Benedict XVI warned us? These three major themes form the bridge I wish to build towards today’s topic: the critique of those forms of ‘ideological colonisation’ which use international law and European or international funding to impose questionable and contestable anthropological views on peoples who have not chosen them.

I tre Papi e la colonizzazione ideologica

This primacy of the logos, threatened by legal and economic positivism, finds its most direct and painful application precisely in the issue of gender ideology. It was once again Benedict XVI, in his final Christmas address to the Roman Curia in December 2012, who offered us the theological key to understanding it. Quoting the reflections of the then Chief Rabbi of France, Gilles Bernheim, the Pope recalled how Simone de Beauvoir had written: “One is not born a woman, one becomes one” – and commented: “Man denies having a nature pre-established by his physicality, which characterises the human being as a man or a woman […] He denies his own nature and decides that it is not given to him as a pre-established fact, but that he himself creates it.” And he drew a stern conclusion: “Where the freedom to act becomes the freedom to create oneself, one inevitably ends up denying the Creator himself.” “Whoever defends God,” concluded Benedict, “defends humanity.”

This theological lens enables us to examine in depth categories such as S.O.G.I. (sexual orientation and gender identity) and C.S.R.H.E. (‘comprehensive’ sexual and reproductive health education), which recur with such insistence in the treaties between the European Union and African countries. These are not neutral categories: they are the political and legal application of that very same denial of natural order, of that very same rejection of the Creator, of which Benedict spoke to us.

Please note, honourable Members of Parliament and dear friends, that these categories do not appear in isolation within a single document, but recur systematically – in parliamentary resolutions, trade protocols and sectoral action plans – to the extent that they constitute what we may rightly call a genuine system. A system does not arise by chance: it arises from a coherent world view, which is precisely that secularised and irrational world view – in the most technical sense of the term – contrary to the logos – which I described at the outset.

Pope Francis, for his part, has given this system, this phenomenon, a name that has now entered common parlance: ‘ideological colonisation’. During his meeting with families in Manila in January 2015, he said, in words that deserve to be heard in full: “Let us be on our guard against new forms of ideological colonisation. There are forms of ideological colonisation that seek to destroy the family […] They do not arise […] from prayer, from an encounter with God […] they come from outside, and that is why I say they are forms of colonisation”. A few days later, at the press conference on the return flight, Francis was even more explicit, recalling the complaints of the African bishops gathered at the Synod: “This is ideological colonisation: they enter a people with an idea that has nothing to do with that people […] it is the same as imposing certain conditions on certain loans.”

Magisterial framework – Benedict XVI, Francis and Leo XIV – I would now like to apply this, in three stages, to three major themes: the dignity of the person and religious freedom; the self-determination of peoples; Africa and its relations with Europe and with the Church.

Human dignity and religious freedom

Ontological principle: the dignity of the person and the logos

Let us begin with the foundation of everything: the dignity of the human person. Magnifica Humanitas – whose very title is already a statement of intent – reminds us that the human person, created by God, is indeed “magnificent”, and cannot be reduced to a statistical figure, a productive function or a changing subjective preference. Every social, economic and technological order – the encyclical insists – must be judged on the basis of this dignity and the person’s vocation to communion with God, not the other way round.

From this ontological principle flows, as its first and most radical consequence, religious freedom. It is not merely one right amongst others, added alongside other rights: it is, as Pope Leo XIV recalled in his aforementioned address to the Diplomatic Corps, the root of every other freedom, because it concerns man’s constitutive relationship with truth and with God. To deny it, restrict it, or worse still, manipulate it for the purposes of foreign policy, is to strike at the very heart of human dignity.

It is no coincidence that Pope Leo XIV wished to explicitly link his first encyclical to the social teaching of Pope Leo XIII. In 1891, "Rerum Novarum" defended the family, work and the right of association, presenting the Church as the guarantor of an integral vision of the human person against the ideologies of the age – at that time, socialist collectivism and individualistic liberalism; today, I believe, economic technocracy and gender ideology. This continuity between the two Pontiffs is no coincidence: it tells us that the dignity of the person, even before being an axiological principle – a value to be promoted – is an ontological principle: a fact of being, which no parliamentary majority, no international treaty, has the power to redefine.

This distinction between the ontological and the axiological is not a technicality from a theological school: it is the cornerstone of my entire argument. If dignity were merely a value, it could be negotiated, weighed up or set aside in the name of other competing values – economic efficiency, geopolitical stability, electoral consensus. But if dignity is an ontological reality, it precedes all political deliberation and stands as its judge: no parliament, whether European or African, creates it; every parliament worthy of the name has the duty to recognise and protect it.

Abortion and Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights [SRHR]: from the right to life to the so-called right to terminate a pregnancy

It is precisely in this ontological realm that one of the most serious subverting of logos is taking place in our time. In June and July 2022, the European Parliament adopted resolutions calling on the Commission and the Member States to “prioritise universal access to safe and legal abortion” in the Union’s external relations, and proposing that abortion be included amongst the fundamental rights enshrined in the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union.

Here, the subversion of logos or reason reaches its most dramatic point: the lack of access to abortion is defined as ‘violence’, whilst the unborn child – the weakest, the most innocent among us – is deprived of any voice, any representation, any rights. The words ‘health’, ‘rights’ and ‘freedom’ thus cease to denote certain realities – to use Pope Leo XIV’s expression once more – and become rhetoric in the service of suppressing the weakest. This is not merely one opinion amongst many: it is the most radical denial possible of the ontological principle I have just referred to – because it denies, at its very root, that the unborn is a person, or even the mere possibility that it might truly be one.

I would like to add a point that directly concerns religious freedom. A legal system that elevates abortion to the status of a fundamental right in treaties and external relations, and which seeks to make cooperation with third countries conditional upon this, effectively compels states, religious communities, and healthcare and education staff to conform to a view of humanity that is incompatible with their religious convictions. This is not neutrality: it is unacceptable imposition and oppression. It amounts to imposing, through legal and financial means, a specific anthropology on communities that do not share it, constituting, in the true sense of the word, a violation of religious freedom and freedom of conscience – that very freedom which Pope Leo XIV reminded us is the root of every other freedom.

It is worth noting that the legal systems of many African countries still enshrine, within their constitutional law, an explicit link between human dignity and the protection of unborn life; a link that Europe, in many of its legal systems, has instead severed. Article 26 of the Kenyan Constitution states that ‘human life begins at conception’. The Constitution of Uganda, in Article 22, provides that “no person shall have the right to terminate the life of an unborn child, except as authorised by law”. This is not a relic of the past: it is, if anything, a fragment of legal wisdom, rooted as much in natural law as in African religious traditions, which the West would do well to reconsider rather than seek to amend. It is no coincidence that, just this year, the Kenyan Court of Appeal firmly reaffirmed this constitutional principle, rejecting the interpretation that sought to make abortion a fundamental right. Here is a concrete example of what I mean when I speak of the self-determination of peoples, in accordance with human dignity: a continent which, though lacking in material resources, has not lost sight of what it means to be human.

Gender, education and the rewritten self

The third aspect of this reversal concerns education, the place par excellence where a civilisation passes on the truth about itself to new generations. Article 40.6 of the Africa Protocol to the Samoa Agreement – the framework agreement that currently governs relations between the European Union and the countries of Africa, the Caribbean and the Pacific – requires partner governments to ensure access to ‘comprehensive sexual and reproductive health and education’ (CSRHE), with explicit reference to international technical guidelines on sexuality education. The European Union’s ‘Gender Action Plan III’, for its part, mandates an explicitly ‘gender-transformative’ approach and stipulates that at least 85 per cent of the Union’s new external actions must incorporate gender equality objectives.

Here we can directly apply Pope Benedict XVI’s critique of gender ideology, to which I have referred: education becomes the laboratory in which children are taught to regard their sexual identity as purely fluid and self-determined, detached from the body, family history and relationships; this runs counter to that ‘logos’ of creation of which Pope Ratzinger spoke in Regensburg, Paris and Berlin. We must not be afraid to call a spade a spade, as Pope Leo XIV urges us: when a ‘protocol’ or a technical ‘action plan’ imposes a single educational model on human sexuality upon an entire continent, without any real consultation with the peoples concerned, we are once again faced with that ideological and oppressive colonisation, which Pope Francis has repeatedly and dramatically denounced.

This manifests itself here in the use of educational programmes and conditional aid to penetrate the cultural fabric of African countries, redefining the individual and the family according to secularised Western standards that have no place in the history of those peoples. Well then, honourable Members, I ask, respectfully but with equal firmness, that the words: “man”, “woman”, “marriage” and “family” should not be reduced to social constructs that can be manipulated at will to suit the ideological fashions of the moment, but should be safeguarded as ontological realities – realities created and not self-produced by man – and, for those who are believers, as truths of biblical revelation. This is precisely what Pope Leo XIV means when he calls for these words to once again express certain realities.

Self-determination of peoples

Article 1, paragraph 2, of the United Nations Charter lists among the Organisation’s very purposes the development of friendly relations amongst nations based on respect for the principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples. The OECD [Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development] principles on aid effectiveness, referred to in the dossier, reaffirm that international co-operation must align with the priorities defined by recipient countries, rather than imposing them from outside.

From this principle follows a consequence that I would like to emphasise clearly: respect for a people’s religious and cultural history – all the more commendable insofar as it safeguards the family, life and the transmission of the faith – is not an obstacle to development, as is sometimes insinuated in the corridors of Brussels, but a fundamental requirement of justice. Human dignity and religious freedom also have a communal and historical dimension: a people has the right to live, preserve and pass on its religious, cultural and family traditions, just as the individual has the right to profess their faith.

It is perhaps worth recalling here that Christianity is neither a recent import to Africa nor a remnant of European colonialism, as is sometimes insinuated in certain secularised circles. Long before Europe evangelised sub-Saharan Africa in the modern era, North Africa and the Horn of Africa had already given the universal Church some of its greatest teachers: Tertullian, Cyprian, Athanasius, and, above all, Augustine of Hippo, whose reflections on the relationship between faith and reason have nourished theology and the whole of Western culture for centuries, including, not coincidentally, Pope Benedict XVI himself. Ethiopia has maintained an unbroken Christian tradition since the 4th century. When, therefore, we speak of the religious self-determination of African peoples, we are not defending a ‘tribal particularism’ set against a supposed European universalism: we are defending the freedom of a continent which has, from the very beginning, helped to shape that very Christian logos which Europe today risks forgetting. This, if we think about it carefully, turns on its head the implicit narrative of certain forms of development cooperation, which treats Africa as a perpetual learner and Europe as the definitive teacher: the history of the Church tells us, on the contrary, that the gift of faith has always been reciprocal, and that Africa has as much to give back as it has received.

Pope Benedict XVI, speaking once again at the Bundestag, offers us here a crucial concept: that of the ‘ecology of man’ and of natural law, a law that precedes positive political power and judges it from the outside. ‘The law is not merely the product of the legislator’s will, but must recognise a truth about man and society that no parliament can decree at will’. No power, however rich or influential, can claim to redefine for other peoples the very meaning of ‘human rights’, against their moral and religious conscience. To do so is not to promote human rights: it is to deny their very foundation, which is precisely the dignity of every people to be the subject, and not the object, of their own history.

I would like to add to this principle a second cornerstone of the Church’s social doctrine which sheds light on our topic: the principle of subsidiarity. John Paul II, in his encyclical "Centesimus Annus", recalled that a higher-level society must never supplant the initiative and responsibility of lower-level communities, depriving them of their powers, but must rather support them in times of need and help them to coordinate their actions with those of other social groups, with a view to the common good. Applied to international relations, this principle tells us that the European Union, however well-intentioned, does not have the task of rewriting from the outside the family law, criminal law or education systems of sovereign African states: rather, its task is to support them, when they so request, in achieving their own legitimate aims. The reversal of this order – that is, the claim that the higher, supranational order should regulate the moral and family life of peoples down to the smallest detail – is not subsidiarity, but its exact opposite: it is ideological centralisation, which the Church’s social doctrine has always condemned, wherever it may come from.

Africa: its needs, its struggles and the contribution required of the West and the Church

The European Union’s cross-compliance system

We must recognise that there is a ‘three-tier’ system through which the principle of self-determination is – in effect – circumvented. At the regulatory level are the European Parliament resolutions I have already referred to on abortion and LGBT+ rights. At the second level – the legal and treaty-based level – lies the Samoa Agreement, which contains a supremacy clause capable of influencing the entire framework of relations between the European Union and the African, Caribbean and Pacific Group of States. At the third level – the financial and trade level – we find the Neighbourhood, Development and International Cooperation Instrument [NDICI], the proposal COM(2025)0551 currently under discussion, and the preferential trade arrangements.

A specific case – that of Uganda – illustrates well how these three levels are interlinked. In its resolution of 20 April 2023, the European Parliament called on the Commission to use all available diplomatic, legal and financial means to dissuade the Ugandan president from enacting the law approved by the Ugandan Parliament and, should it be enacted, to consider withdrawing the trade preferences granted to Uganda under the ‘Everything But Arms’ scheme, to activate the ‘essential elements’ clause of the Cotonou Agreement and to consider the Union’s comprehensive sanctions regime on human rights; Parliament also called for a Union strategy for the universal decriminalisation of homosexuality. Well, I say this in measured but firm terms: what we see here is a fully-fledged and verifiable instance of ‘ideological colonisation’ – the use of trade and finance to interfere in the criminal and family law of a sovereign state, in direct violation of the principle of self-determination of peoples.

The proposed regulation COM(2025)0551, currently under discussion, provides for a total budget of €200.3 billion at current prices for the Union’s external action, with an indicative allocation for sub-Saharan Africa more than doubled compared with the guaranteed minimum for the current cycle – from €29.18 billion to approximately €60.5 billion. The language on the Beijing Platform, the ICPD, sexual and reproductive health, and comprehensive sexuality education is retained in the basic text and reproduced in the sectoral pillars of European intervention, whilst the previous binding quantitative targets are replaced by a cross-cutting ‘mainstreaming’ approach: ideological conditionality does not disappear; it becomes more pervasive and less measurable. It is here that I would like to refer once again to "Magnifica Humanitas": technology and economic power, as Pope Leo’s encyclical reminds us, become instruments of domination and perverse oppression when they are not regulated by charity and justice. The Church is not asking Europe to stop helping Africa – far from it – but is calling for the ‘culture of power’ to be transformed into a ‘civilisation of love’.

"The Voices and Suffering of Africa: the role of the Church and the West"

Allow me now, in this highly symbolic setting, to give a voice to those who have none: the Africans themselves. This dossier brings together first-hand accounts from African government officials who denounce the European Union’s insistence on categories such as SOGI [Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity] in negotiations, whilst the EU systematically refuses to discuss issues of equal urgency for Africa, such as the restitution of colonial artefacts; others speak openly of a ‘fait accompli’, which can be summed up as follows: “If you don’t sign, there will be consequences.” These are not my words: they are words gathered from independent academic analyses and first-hand accounts, and they tell us that the diagnosis of cultural neo-colonialism is not political or ecclesiastical propaganda, but a lived experience of those sitting on the other side of the negotiating table.

It is therefore hardly surprising that, in May 2025, in Entebbe, Uganda, African parliamentarians and institutional representatives gathered at a conference opened by President Museveni to propose an African Charter on the Family and Cultural Sovereignty. President Museveni stated on that occasion, referring explicitly to the Samoa Agreement: “I urge you to study that Samoa document which addresses all these issues you are discussing: if it truly contains what is claimed about reproductive rights, then we will have to withdraw from that absurdity, and tell the European Union that we cannot be part of that injustice”. Strong words, which reveal a substance that must be taken seriously: the dignity of peoples who no longer wish to be treated as minors under guardianship, but as moral agents, capable of saying ‘no’ to anything that contradicts their vision of the person and the family.

However, it would be unfair of me to limit myself to mere criticism. Pope Benedict XVI, in the post-synodal apostolic exhortation "Africae Munus", clearly set out what Africa legitimately expects from the West and from the Church: not ideological interference, but genuine solidarity in reconciliation, justice and peace – solidarity capable of accompanying without taking over, and of giving without claiming to reshape the soul of peoples in its own image.

In practical terms, this means a renewed commitment to debt relief, to the transfer of technologies beneficial to healthcare and agriculture, to support for the educational and healthcare networks that the Catholic Church has been running for centuries across the continent – often stepping in where the state has failed – and to the joint fight against corruption and poor governance, which weigh as heavily on the peoples of Africa as external interference. It also means, for the Western Church, rediscovering Africa not as a mission field in need of assistance, but as a living source of faith, vocations and large, joyful families, from which an ageing and weary Europe has much to learn and receive.

As a son of Africa, I wish to add my own words. I have repeatedly denounced – and I repeat this today in this forum – the desire of certain powers to impose false values through political and financial means: in some African countries, entire ministries dedicated to gender theory have been created in exchange for economic support. I also recalled, when a United Nations Secretary-General came to Africa to call for the decriminalisation of homosexuality as a condition of civilisation, that this sort of absurdity cannot be imposed on the poor whilst they lack hospitals, schools and drinking water. Africa’s material poverty does not rob it of its dignity, nor of its right – indeed, it perhaps gives it an even stronger claim – to judge for itself what is best for its children.

In 2015, during the Synod on the Family, I said – and I do not take back a single word of it today – that gender ideology and Islamic fundamentalism represent, each in its own way, two ‘apocalyptic beasts’, which threaten to destroy not only the family, but humanity itself, the image of God. Some considered this image to be excessive; I continue to believe that it captures a grain of truth: both these forces, though very different in origin and form, share the claim to rewrite humanity in their own image – one in the name of so-called progress, the other in the name of a so-called return to an original purity – denying in every case that religious freedom and that dignity of the person which I have placed at the heart of this Lectio.

I would like to conclude by sharing a deeper conviction that I have come to hold over many years of service to the Church: the crisis of the Church in the West and the crisis of the West itself are, at heart, one and the same crisis. It is because the Church in many European nations has lost its identity, its prophetic voice, that the West itself has lost the meaning of its own civilisation. And I would add: even in the West today, religious freedom is under threat. Here, the three Popes I have referred to in this Lectio are intertwined in a single testimony: Pope Benedict XVI defends the ecology of the human person and the family against legal positivism; Pope Francis denounces ideological colonisation and calls for authentic intercultural dialogue; Pope Leo XIV calls for words to once again express certain realities and proposes a multilateralism purified of ideologies. This is an appeal I address, with respect but without reservation, to Europe and the Western Church: undertake a serious examination of conscience. Listen to Africa. Respect its cultural sovereignty. Offer free cooperation, unencumbered by ideological agendas. Be willing to receive from Africa what it can still offer to a weary West: the witness of a living faith and a sense of family, which can help Europe itself to rediscover its own logos.

Conclusion: Returning to logos and certain realities

Honourable Members of Parliament, allow me to conclude where I began: with the words of Pope Leo XIV. Without words that refer to certain realities, the Holy Father told us, there can be no authentic dialogue, even within the Catholic Church. And I would add: without logos, diplomacy and international cooperation degenerate into a power game masked by technical language. I would therefore like to invite the entire European Parliament and the representatives present here to undertake a genuine examination of language: to state clearly, without diplomatic ambiguity, what is really meant when we speak of ‘human rights’, ‘sexual and reproductive health’, ‘gender’ and ‘family’, and to ask ourselves, with intellectual honesty, whether these definitions truly respect the dignity of the person and religious freedom, or whether they betray them, under the guise of seemingly neutral language.

In this Lectio, I have sought to offer you three perspectives that are interlinked like the stones of a single edifice. 1) The dignity of the person and religious freedom, as the foundation of all human coexistence, which no gender ideology or so-called ‘reproductive health’ can erase. 2) The self-determination of peoples, as a space of freedom in which every people can embody this dignity within their own religious and cultural history, without being subjected to conditions disguised as cooperation. 3) And finally, Africa – not as the object of social engineering devised elsewhere, but as a subject of culture, faith, suffering and hope, for the Church and for the West itself.

A final word from the heart of an African pastor: the history of faith on my continent teaches us that the Church often grows precisely during times of trial, and that those peoples who preserve their religious and cultural identity, in the face of all external pressure, are, in the end, those who best serve the cause of true universal brotherhood. I am not asking the European Parliament for an act of faith, but for an act of reason: verify, using the very tools of your legal expertise, whether the words you utter truly honour the human person, the family and the freedom of peoples. If they do, Africa and Europe will walk together. If they do not, no treaty, however well-drafted, will be able to bridge the gulf that ‘betrayed words’ will have carved between us.

Thank you.