Since his election in May as the first American pope, Leo XIV has emerged as a political and temperamental counterweight to an incendiary American presidency — not through confrontation, but through insistence on a world governed by rules, restraint and moral seriousness.
A clash between the two most prominent Americans on the global stage seemed inevitable, if only because of the contrast. Where the president projects bluster and volatility, Leo offers a soft-spoken but unmistakably firm dignity. He is, as his eldest brother, Louis Prevost, has said, “neither quiet nor shy — if he has something to say, he will say it.” That assessment is striking coming from a devoted supporter of the president, who has hosted Louis Prevost both in the Oval Office and at Mar-a-Lago.
Leo has not hesitated to speak. After US forces moved to seize Venezuela’s leader, Nicolás Maduro, the pope declared that Venezuela’s “sovereignty” must be guaranteed alongside “the rule of law enshrined in its Constitution.” He had previously urged Washington not to escalate threats against Caracas and criticized the administration’s military buildup in the Caribbean. He has also repeatedly lamented the treatment of migrants by US authorities, calling on American clergy to be vocal and active — a call many have heeded.
Yet it is a mistake to read these statements as one side of a personal duel between pope and president. Leo is not looking for a fight; he is looking past the current occupant of the White House. His interventions amount to a defense of a postwar global order grounded in universal values and institutional norms rather than tribalism and personal power. When Leo challenges American policy, he does so as an American-born pope recalling the very system the United States once championed — one that prized statesmanship over gamesmanship, the common good over national conquest, and decency over jingoistic bullying.
In early December, Leo met with President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine and said he hoped to visit the war-torn country. Hours later, he publicly criticized the administration’s peace plan. “Trying to reach a peace agreement without including Europe in the discussions is not realistic,” he said. “The war is in Europe.”
Soon afterward, in remarks that seemed aimed well beyond any single movement, Leo told center-right European politicians that “the mark of any civilized society is that differences are debated with courtesy and respect.” Addressing diplomats, he praised honesty as the greatest virtue in “an international context plagued by prevarications and conflict,” condemning a “war of words armed with lies, propaganda and hypocrisy.”
Throughout Christmas and into the new year, Leo continued to press the case for older, sturdier ideals. He called for “the strengthening of supranational institutions, not their delegitimization,” lectured civic leaders on the responsibilities of public service and urged world leaders to pursue peace through dialogue — even as Washington launched military strikes on Islamic militias in Nigeria, ostensibly to protect Christians.
His most comprehensive statement came Friday in his address to the Vatican diplomatic corps. There, Leo offered a sweeping defense of postwar multilateralism, calling the rule of law “the foundation of all peaceful civil coexistence.”
“A diplomacy that promotes dialogue and seeks consensus among all parties is being replaced by a diplomacy based on force,” he warned. “The principle established after the Second World War, which prohibited nations from using force to violate the borders of others, has been completely undermined.”
Leo commands no armies and indulges no nostalgia for a flawless Pax Americana. Still, his American-accented voice is filling a vacuum. On his first international trip last fall, to Turkey and Lebanon, he sounded like a classic American internationalist speaking in a Christian register. Mikael Corre of La Croix observed that the journey displayed “the exact opposite of the diplomacy we now associate with the United States: no hyper-personalization, no show of force, no shocking announcements or thunderous slogans.”
Popes have long grappled with the political realities of their eras. John Paul II helped hasten the end of the Soviet empire but struggled with what followed. Benedict XVI retreated into theology. Francis supplied a moral vocabulary to confront populist nationalism, calling our era “a third world war fought piecemeal” and urging “handcrafted” peace. Leo has sharpened that focus, echoing John XXIII’s Cold War-era emphasis on human rights and pragmatic cooperation.
The New York Times