Jorge Bergoglio, Pope Francis

What could we expect from Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio, elected pontifex maximus in March 2013? It’s true that he was a Latino, which was already quite a change. But he had been elected by the same conclave that had enthroned the conservative Ratzinger, and he came from Argentina, a country whose church isn’t known for its progressivism, as many of its dignitaries actively collaborated with the bloody military dictatorship in 1976. That wasn’t the case with Bergoglio; according to several accounts, he even helped those persecuted by the military junta to hide or flee the country. But neither did he oppose the regime — a “sin of omission,” one might say. While some Christian leftists like the Argentine Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, always supported Bergoglio, others considered him part of the right-wing opposition to the left-Peronists Néstor and Cristina Kirchner.

Be that as it may, once elected the supreme pontiff, Francisco — a name he chose in reference to Saint Francis, friend to the poor and to the birds — immediately distinguished himself with his brave and committed positions. In some ways, he resembled Pope Angelo Roncalli, John XXIII, who, though elected as a transitional pope to ensure the continuity of the tradition, proceeded to introduce its biggest reform in centuries: the Second Vatican Council (1962–65). In fact, Bergoglio had earlier considered taking the name of Juan XXIV in honor of his predecessor from the ’60s.

The new pontiff’s first trip outside Rome was in July 2013, to the Italian port of Lampedusa, where hundreds of illegal immigrants were arriving even as many others drowned in the Mediterranean during their journey. In his homily, he was not afraid to take on the Italian government — and a good part of public opinion — by denouncing the “globalization of indifference” that makes us “insensitive to the cries of other people” — that is, to the fate of “immigrants dying at sea, in boats which were vehicles of hope and became vehicles of death.” He would later return several times to this criticism of the inhumanity of European immigration policy.

A notable change was also made in relation to Latin America. In September 2013, Francis met with Gustavo Gutiérrez, the founder of liberation theology. The Vatican newspaper Osservatore Romano published an article reflecting positively on the thinker for the first time. Another symbolic gesture was the beatification — and later the canonization — of the Salvadoran archbishop Óscar Romero, assassinated by the military in 1980 after speaking out against repression, a hero celebrated by the Latin American Catholic left but ignored by previous pontiffs. During his visit to Bolivia in July 2015, Bergoglio made an intense and rousing tribute to the memory of his fellow Jesuit Luís Espinal Camps, a Spanish missionary priest, poet, and filmmaker assassinated on March 21, 1980, under the dictatorship of Luis García Meza, for his dedication to social struggles. When he met Evo Morales, the Bolivian socialist president presented him with a sculpture made by a Jesuit martyr: a cross resting on a wooden hammer and sickle.

During his visit to Bolivia, Francisco participated in the World Meeting of Social Movements in the city of Santa Cruz. His speech on that occasion illustrates the “deep aversion” to capitalism of which Max Weber wrote, yet to a degree unparalleled by any of his predecessors. Here is a now famous passage from it:

The earth, entire peoples, and individual persons are being brutally punished. And behind all this pain, death and destruction there is the stench of what Basil of Caesarea — one of the first theologians of the Church — called “the dung of the devil.” An unfettered pursuit of money rules. This is the “dung of the devil.” The service of the common good is left behind. Once capital becomes an idol and guides people’s decisions, once greed for money presides over the entire socioeconomic system, it ruins society, it condemns and enslaves men and women, it destroys human fraternity, it sets people against one another and, as we clearly see, it even puts at risk our common home.

As expected, Francis’s approach encountered considerable resistance in the most conservative sectors of the church. One of his most vocal detractors was the North American cardinal Raymond Burke, an enthusiastic supporter of Donald Trump who also came into contact with Matteo Salvini, the leader of Lega Nord, during a trip to Italy. Some of the new pope’s detractors even accused him of being a heretic, a Marxist in disguise.

When the reactionary US political commentator Rush Limbaugh called him a “Marxist pope,” Francis responded by politely refuting the adjective, adding that he was not offended since he knew “many Marxists who were good people.” In fact, in 2014, the pope received two prominent representatives of the European left: Aléxis Tsípras, then leader of the opposition to Athens’ right-wing government, and Walter Baier, coordinator of the Transform Network, created by cultural foundations tied to Party of the European Left like the Rosa Luxemburg foundation in Germany. In that meeting, they decided to open a dialogue between Marxists and Christians, which took shape over several meetings, including a summer university gathering on the island of Syros in Greece in 2018. In 2024, the pope received a delegation of participants in the Christian-Marxist dialogue, including the author of this article.

It’s true that when it came to women’s rights to control their own bodies and sexual morality in general — contraception, abortion, divorce, homosexuality — Francis clung to conservative church doctrine. But there were some signs of openness, of which the violent conflict of 2017 with the leadership of the Order of Malta, a wealthy and aristocratic institution of the Catholic Church, was a striking example.

The archconservative grand master of the order, the “prince” Matthew Festing, demanded the resignation of order’s chancellor, the baron of Boeselager, for the horrible sin of distributing condoms to poor populations threatened by the AIDS epidemic in Africa. The chancellor appealed to the Vatican, which decided in Boeselager’s favor, but Festing refused to recognize the ruling, for which the Vatican removed him from office. This didn’t indicate that contraceptives were being adopted as part of the church’s moral doctrine, but it did represent a change.

It’s clear that there was nothing Marxist about Pope Francis, and that his theology was far removed from the Marxist form of liberation theology. His intellectual, spiritual, and political formation owes much to the theology of the people, a non-Marxist Argentine variant of liberation theology whose main inspirations were Lucio Gera and the Jesuit theologian Juan Carlos Scannone. The theology of the people does not claim to be rooted in class struggle but rather recognizes a conflict between the people and the “anti-people,” prioritizing the poor. It also demonstrates less interest in socioeconomic questions than other forms of liberation theology, and it places more attention on culture, particularly popular religion.

In a 2014 article, Carlos Scannone rightly emphasizes how much the pope’s early encyclicals — like Evangelii Gaudium (2014), denounced by his left-wing critics as “populist” (in the Argentine and Peronist sense of the term, not the European one) — owe to this popular theology. However, it seems that Bergoglio, in his critique of the “idol” of capital and the “entire socioeconomic system,” takes things further than the Argentines who inspired him. This is especially true of his last encyclical, Laudato si’ (2015), which merits a Marxist analysis.

Laudato si’

Pope Francis’s “ecological encyclical” is a globally significant event from a religious, ethical, social, and political perspective. Considering the enormous influence of the Catholic Church, it’s a key contribution to the development of a critical ecological conscience. While it was greeted enthusiastically by genuine environmentalists, it also aroused concern and faced rejection from religious conservatives, representatives of capital, and ideologues of “market environmentalism.” It is a document of great richness and complexity that proposes a new interpretation of the Judeo-Christian tradition — breaking with the “Promethean vision of mastery over the world” — and that reflects critically on the causes of the ecological crisis. In certain aspects, like the association of “the cry of the earth” with “the cry of the poor,” the influence of liberation theology‚ particularly that of ecotheologian Leonardo Boff, is evident.

In the brief notes that follow, I would like to highlight one aspect of the encyclical that explains the resistance it was met with from the economic and media establishment: its anti-systemic nature.

For Pope Francis, ecological catastrophes and climate change are not solely the result of individual behavior, although that plays a role, but of “models of production and consumption.” Bergoglio is not a Marxist, and the word “capitalism” doesn’t appear in the encyclical. But it very clear that for him the dramatic ecological crisis of our time is the result of the economic mechanisms of today’s globalized economy, the gears of a global “system of commercial relations and ownership which is structurally perverse.”

What, for Francis, are these “structurally perverse” characteristics? First and foremost, a system dominated by the “limited interests of business and dubious economic reasoning,” an instrumental rationality whose only aim is to maximize profits. Therefore,

the principle of the maximization of profits, frequently isolated form other considerations, reflects a misunderstanding of the very concept of the economy. As long as production is increased, little concern is given to whether it is at the cost of future resources of the health of the environment.

This distortion, this ethical and social perversity, does not belong more to one country than any other, but to a “global system where priority tends to be given to speculation and the pursuit of financial gain, which fail to take the context into account, let alone the effects on human dignity and the natural environment.” It seems, then, that “environmental deterioration and human and ethical degradation are closely linked.”

The obsession with unlimited growth, consumerism, technocracy, the absolute domination of finance, and the deification of the market are the perverse characteristics of this system. Under a destructive logic, everything is reduced to the market and the “financial calculations of costs and benefits.” However, it must be understood that “the environment is one of those goods that cannot be adequately safeguarded or promoted by market forces.” The market is incapable of taking qualitative, ethical, social, human, or natural values — those values that are “incalculable” — into account.

The “absolute” power of speculative finance capital is an essential aspect of this system, as banking crises confirm. In this sense, the encyclical’s commentary is demystifying:

Saving banks at any cost, making the public pay the price, foregoing a firm commitment to reviewing and reforming the entire system, only reaffirms the absolute power of a financial system, a power which has no future and will only give rise to new crises after a slow, costly and only apparent recovery. The financial crisis of 2007–08 provided an opportunity to develop a new economy, more attentive to ethical principles, and new ways of regulating speculative financial practices and virtual wealth. But the response to the crisis did not include rethinking the outdated criteria which continue to rule the world.

This perverse dynamic of this system that continues “to rule the world” accounts for the consistent failures of global summits on the environment: “There are too many special interests, and economic interests easily end up trumping the common good and manipulating information so that their own plans will not be affected.” When the imperatives of powerful economic groups predominate,

the most one can expect is superficial rhetoric, sporadic acts of philanthropy and perfunctory expressions of concern for the environment, whereas any genuine attempt by groups within society to introduce change is viewed as a nuisance based on romantic illusions or an obstacle to be circumvented.

In this context, the encyclical denounces the irresponsibility of those responsible — that is, the dominant elites or oligarchies interested in preserving the system in relation to the ecological crisis.

Many of those who possess more resources and economic or political power seem mostly to be concerned with masking the problems or concealing their symptoms, simply making efforts to reduce some of the negative impacts of climate change. However, many of these symptoms indicate that such effects will continue to worsen if we continue with current models of production and consumption.

Faced with the dramatic destruction of the planet’s ecological balance and the unprecedented threat posed by climate change, what do governments or the international representatives of the capitalist system (the World Bank, International Monetary Fund, etc.) propose? Their response is so-called sustainable development, a concept that increasingly rings empty — a veritable flatus vocis, as scholastics of the Middle Ages called it. Francis holds no illusions about this technocratic mystification:

Talk of sustainable growth usually becomes a way of distracting attention and offering excuses. It absorbs the language and values of ecology into the categories of finance and technocracy, and the social and environmental responsibility of businesses often gets reduced to a series of marketing and image-enhancing measures.

The concrete measures proposed by the dominant techno-financial oligarchy are completely ineffective, just like the so-called carbon markets. The pope’s criticism of this fake solution is one of the encyclical’s most important. In reference to a resolution of the Bolivian Episcopal Conference, Bergoglio writes,

The strategy of buying and selling “carbon credits” can lead to a new form of speculation which would not help reduce the emission of polluting gases worldwide. This system seems to provide a quick and easy solution under the guise of a certain commitment to the environment, but in no way does it allow for the radical change which present circumstances require. Rather, it may simply become a ploy which permits maintaining the excessive consumption of some countries and sectors.

Passages like this help explain the lack of enthusiasm for Laudato si’ in official circles and among supporters of market environmentalism, or “green” capitalism.

By linking the ecological question to the social question, Francis insists on the need for drastic measures, for profound changes to confront this dual challenge. The main obstacle is the perverse nature of the system: “The same mindset which stands in the way of making radical decisions to reverse the trend of global warming also stands in the way of achieving the goal of eliminating poverty.”

While Laudato si’s diagnosis of the ecological crisis is impressive in its clarity and coherence, the actions it proposes are less so. It’s true that many of its suggestions are necessary and useful: for example, “new forms of cooperation and community organization can be encouraged in order to defend the interests of small producers and preserve local ecosystems from destruction.” It is also very significant that the encyclical recognizes the need for more developed societies to contain “growth by setting some reasonable limits and even retracing our steps before it is too late” — in other words, “to accept decreased growth in some parts of the world, in order to provide resources for other places to experience healthy growth.”

But drastic measures are precisely what is missing, such as those put forward by Naomi Klein in her book This Changes Everything: breaking from fossil fuels before it’s too late and leaving them in the ground. We cannot change the perverse structures of the current mode of production and consumption without a raft of anti-systemic initiatives that challenge private property — for example, that of the big fossil fuel multinationals (BP, Shell, Total, etc.). The pope does speak of the usefulness of “larger strategies to halt environmental degradation and to encourage a ‘culture of care’ which permeates all of society,” but the details of these strategies remain underdeveloped in the encyclical.

Recognizing that “the present world system is certainly unsustainable,” Bergoglio seeks a global alternative that he calls “ecological culture”:

Ecological culture cannot be reduced to a series of urgent and partial responses to the immediate problems of pollution, environmental decay and the depletion of natural resources. There needs to be a distinctive way of looking at things, a way of thinking, policies, an educational program, a lifestyle and a spirituality which together generate resistance to the assault of the technocratic paradigm.

But there are few signs of the new economy and new society corresponding to this ecological culture. This is not to demand that the pope adopt the positions of ecosocialism but to point out the abstract nature of the alternative future he proposes.

Nonetheless, Pope Francis embraces the “preferential option for the poorest” from the Latin American churches. The encyclical clearly sets this forth as a planetary imperative:

In the present condition of global society, where injustices abound and growing numbers of people are deprived of basic human rights and considered expendable, the principle of the common good immediately becomes, logically and inevitably, a summons to solidarity and a preferential option for the poorest of our brothers and sisters.

Yet in the encyclical the poor do not appear as agents of their own emancipation, the central project of liberation theology. The struggles of the poor, peasants, and indigenous peoples to defend forests, water, and land against multinationals and agribusiness, and the role of social movements, the principal actors in the struggle against climate change — Vía Campesina, Justicia Climática, the World Social Forum — barely appear in Laudato si’.

They would, however, become a central theme in the pope’s meetings with popular movements, the first in the history of the church. At the meetings in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, in July 2015, Francis declared,

You, the lowly, the exploited, the poor and underprivileged, can do, and are doing, a lot. I would even say that the future of humanity is in great measure in your own hands, through your ability to organize and carry out creative alternatives, through your daily efforts to ensure the three “Ls” — do you agree? — (labor, lodging, land) and through your proactive participation in the great processes of change on the national, regional, and global levels. Don’t lose heart!

Of course, as Bergoglio emphasizes in the encyclical, the church’s task is not to take the place of political parties in proposing programs for social change. Yet with its anti-systemic diagnosis of the crisis, which ties together the social question and protection of the environment, “the cry of the poor” and “the cry of the earth,” Laudato si’ constitutes an invaluable contribution to the reflection and action necessary to save nature and humanity from catastrophe.

It is up to Marxists, communists, and ecosocialists to complement this diagnosis with radical ideas to change not only the dominant economic system but also the perverse model of civilization globally imposed by capitalism, formulating proposals that include not just a concrete program for ecological transition but a vision for another form of society, one beyond the rule of money and commodities, founded on the values of freedom, solidarity, social justice, and respect for nature.

Whereto the Church?

It’s difficult to predict what the future of the church will be after the death of Pope Francis. Will whomever is chosen by the next conclave follow Bergoglio’s critical and humanist orientation, or will he return the church to the conservative tradition of past pontiffs? Francis did indeed name many new cardinals, but what are their innermost convictions?

In the coming weeks, we’ll learn whether Bergoglio’s leadership was a mere digression or the opening of a new chapter in the long history of Catholicism.