If you wrote a novel in which the first Latin American pope died on Easter Monday — which happened to fall on April 21, the traditional anniversary of the founding of the city of Rome — it would be rejected by any decent editor. But that is precisely what has happened. Pope Francis, a symbol for many of the possibility of a more compassionate Christianity, has died. The apostolic throne of St. Peter is now empty.
The period between the death of one pope and the election of his successor by the College of Cardinals is known rather ominously as a “sede vacante” (the vacant seat). It ordinarily lasts about 15 to 20 days, nine of which are the official mourning period known as the novendiale. Shortly after the nine-day period, after funeral rites for the recently deceased pope have been concluded, the Catholic Church’s leading cardinals will meet privately to elect a new pope in a conclave.
The word conclave, from the Latin “with key,” comes from the 13th century when, following the death of Pope Clement IV, the cardinals were unable to agree on a new pope for almost three years. As frustration grew, it was decided to lock the cardinals away, providing them with only bread and water until they came to a decision. This practice of secluding the cardinals while they name their choice is now a matter of canon law. Even though the conclave has not begun, in our anxious times many are already starting to consider who might be the next Bishop of Rome.
The election of a new pope has always been as much political balancing act as spiritual exercise. Most of the current conversation has focused on the “progressive” versus “traditionalist” strands of the global culture wars. Broadly speaking, this refers to the growing divide in the Catholic Church between the so-called “progressives” who favor reforms to the church’s attitude toward cultural and social issues (particularly those related to gender and sexuality) and the “traditionalists” who oppose such reforms, often advocating for creating even stricter norms in light of liberalization in the wider society. (Francis was considered progressive, whereas his predecessor Pope Benedict XVI was a traditionalist.) This divide is not unique to the Catholic Church and can now be seen in nearly every religious tradition. But while this conflict will likely dominate the conclave and coverage of it, there are also other factors at play.
In trying to forecast the next papacy, it is also crucial to focus on the question of national — or more accurately, regional — origin. This has always been a factor in choosing a pope, the vast majority of whom have been Italians. The election of Polish Pope John Paul II in 1978, the first non-Italian in over 500 years, was considered an important show of support to the Catholics still living behind the Iron Curtain. So where might the next pope come from — and who might he be, and what might that signal about the future of the church?
The fact is that what the average Christian looks like and where the average Christian lives is changing faster now than ever before, which will inevitably shape the next papacy. Christianity is on the decline in North America and western Europe, even if that decline seems to have slowed in the United States, at least recently. But in Latin America, Asia, and Africa (a region some call the “Global South,” though the term hits a colonialist note), Christianity is growing, both because of higher birth rates and conversions. Some estimates suggest that by 2050, 78 percent of the world’s Christians will live in the Global South. African Christianity, in particular, has experienced tremendous growth, with data suggesting that by 2050, 40 percent of the world’s Christians will live in Africa. For Catholicism in particular, these numbers are even more stark, and the Vatican’s own reports suggest that the future of the Catholic Church is undeniably in Africa.
While the demographic center of the Christian world has been shifting, the power centers have stayed firmly in the West. No African or Asian leader has been elected head of a major global Christian denomination since Late Antiquity. (The last pope born in Africa was Pope Gelasius I, who died in 496.) And though Pope Francis was indeed the first pope from Latin America, as the son of Italian immigrants to Argentina, he came firmly within the cultural framework and historical trajectory of southern European Catholicism. It is difficult to see him entirely as a “Pope from the Global South.”
One might assume that progressives within the Catholic Church would be championing the rise of leaders from outside Europe. Yet an uncomfortable truth for many of these progressives is that the Global South, and particularly Africa, has become a significant power center for traditionalists in the fierce cultural debates that have rocked Christianity over the past four decades. This has been true not just for Catholics, but Anglicans, Methodists, and others. Of course, it is important to note that millions of dollars have been spent pushing a conservative social agenda in Africa and that African Christians are far from a monolith. But in broad demographic terms, a betting progressive Catholic would likely prefer a European pope over an African one.
There are only a few realistic African contenders at the moment, both deeply traditionalist. There is Ghanaian Cardinal Peter Kodwo Appiah Turkson, 76. Brought to the Vatican by Pope Francis’s conservative predecessor, Turkson is best known outside of Vatican circles for his anti-gay attitudes, including endorsing Ghana’s draconian anti-homosexuality law. He is joined by Cardinal Robert Sarah, 79, from Guinea, who once positioned himself as a “parallel authority” to Pope Francis. He has defended clerical celibacy, denounced “gender ideology,” and argued that there can be “no theological dialogue” with Islam. These men are among the most conservative potential candidates to be the next pope.
Meanwhile, the majority of the progressive candidates, including the most progressive, are nearly all from Europe. There is Cardinal José Tolentino Calaça de Mendonça from Portugal. His relatively liberal views on same-sex relationships as well as his sympathies with a pro-choice Benedictine nun who favors women’s ordination put him firmly in the progressive camp. However, at 59, he is the youngest among the candidates and thus unlikely to get the job on those grounds. More likely would be the Italian Cardinal Matteo Zuppi (and what is more conventional than an Italian pope?) Largely in the theological and pastoral image of Pope Francis, Zuppi would in some ways be the most “Eurocentric” choice, having spent time as the Vatican’s peace envoy to Ukraine and Russia and seen as largely focused on the European church.
Given the demographic realities facing the Catholic Church, a progressive European cardinal seems highly unlikely, even though a progressive, at least on issues of gender and sexuality, is likely needed to stem the bleeding in Europe in particular. Even a traditionalist European cardinal, of which there are many, might be seen as out of step with where Catholicism is headed. All this puts the coming conclave in a seemingly impossible situation.
The man who might offer a way around this impasse comes from the traditionally Catholic, Asian country of the Philippines, a progressive candidate from outside Europe (and this time with no European immigrant parents): Cardinal Luis Antonio Gokim Tagle. Cardinal Tagle has been dubbed the “Asian Francis” in some circles because of his commitment to social justice. Yet, he is still not a European and would be the first Asian pope, and the first non-white pope since the early Middle Ages. (It is possible, even likely, that the three African-born popes of Late Antiquity were Black.)
His election would pacify Western progressives, who have proven all too ready to jump ship should the church maintain too conservative of a position on key social issues, while offering the Global South — and the new Christian majority — a leader who looks and has lived more like his flock. It seems a clear way forward for a church increasingly divided not just along ideological lines, but geographic ones as well. And, for what it’s worth, Tagle currently leads the Vegas betting odds — as good an indication as any about who will step out onto the balcony in St. Peter’s Square after the white smoke rises.
Whoever appears before the crowd that day will be a compromise, a man who in his life and theology must satisfy, to some degree, the varying factions of a changing Catholic Church that is increasingly divided by geography and politics — a reflection of the wider world. He will have just been handed the world’s loudest pulpit and what he does with it will affect not only the faithful, but the world.
