THE POPE’S EMBRACE OF CASTRO AND PAPAL PROGRESSIVISM
Papal Progressivism
Last week, Pope Francis hosted a Vatican summit on global warming where one of his cardinals called for a “full conversion of hearts and minds” to the fight against the “almost unfathomable” effects of fossil fuels on the environment. The pope will soon issue an encyclical on the subject, which—according to U.N. Secretary General Ban Ki-moon—will “convey to the world that protecting our environment is an urgent moral imperative and a sacred duty for all people of faith and people of conscience.”
This came shortly after the pope’s seeming endorsement of the proto-Iran deal, saying, “In hope we entrust to the merciful Lord the framework recently agreed to in Lausanne, that it may be a definitive step toward a more secure and fraternal world.”
Late last year, President Obama thanked Pope Francis for his role in the Castro-lifeline Cuba deal; according to a “senior administration official” quoted in Time, “Pope Francis personally issued an appeal in a letter that he sent to President Obama and to President Raul Castro . . . encouraging the United States and Cuba to pursue a closer friendship.”
Each of these forays (and others) into pontifical progressivism has disappointed conservatives, many of whom have been Francis enthusiasts. Each has gotten ample media attention. Another worrying papal maneuver, however, was mostly overlooked.
Last December, not long after the Cuba deal, the pope declined to meet with the Dalai Lama. Tibet’s spiritual leader-in-exile was visiting Rome and had requested an audience; the papal spokesman said the request was denied in light of the “delicate situation” of the Vatican’s relationship with China and China’s with Tibet.
Separate from the issue of Chinese Christians, of course, is the issue of Tibet, whose people are on their last legs. Tibetan Buddhists may not be the pope’s constituency, but surely his remit includes defending downtrodden masses of every religion. And the Tibetans are about as downtrodden as you can get.
Pope John Paul II met with the Dalai Lama in 1980, 1982, 1986, 1988, 1990, 1994, 1996, and 1999, as did his successor, Benedict XVI, in 2006. In deference to the Chinese Christian situation, John Paul II was discreet on the subject of Tibetan independence—but he never kowtowed to the Communists. The Vatican has consistently refused to de-recognize Taiwan, as Beijing demands.
After rallying Catholics during his 1979 visit to Warsaw—John Paul II wrote a letter to Brezhnev, in 1980, that persuaded the Soviet dictator to stand down 20 Soviet divisions poised to invade Poland. Ultimately, John Paul II’s steel-spined approach to communism contributed to the liberation of all the Soviet bloc’s Christians, without a shot being fired. Sic semper tyrannis. History tells us appeasement would have had the opposite effect.
John Paul II was one of the great men of the 20th century. Certainly, Pope Francis is a good man, with good intentions. As Soviet Christians and the Soviet Union were defining issues of the tenure of John Paul II, the papacy of Francis may in part be defined by the plight of Chinese Christians, and everyone else under Communist China’s thumb. Or at least it ought to be. The Vicar of Christ has an awesome responsibility as a moral leader of Catholics and non-Catholics all over the world. Just as we hope American and European leaders remember the lessons of Reagan and Thatcher, we will have to hope Francis takes a page from his troublesome-priest predecessor.
Write your bishop.
Behind the Pope’s Embrace of Castro
Speculation runs from a Trojan horse plan to Latin American antipathy of the U.S.
During their encounter Castro mocked the faith with a quip about returning to the church if the pope behaved. He also mocked every Cuban refugee, dead or alive, by giving the pope, of all things, a piece of art depicting a migrant at prayer.
Pope Francis gave the dictator a copy of his 2013 apostolic exhortation titled “The Joy of the Gospel,” in which he sharply criticizes economic freedom. Talk about preaching to the converted. As Raúl put it, “The pontiff is a Jesuit, and I, in some way, am too. I studied at Jesuit schools.” No kidding.
It’s always possible that Pope Francis is hoping to get close to the regime in order to change it. Maybe he has in mind a spiritual version of a Trojan horse that once inside the gates of Cuban hell will unleash an army of angels.
With God all things are possible. But I suspect that this papal rapprochement with Castro has more mundane roots.
The Holy Father is a native of 20th-century Argentina, ideologically defined by nationalism, socialism, corporatism and anti-Americanism. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that this influences his views toward the U.S. and the island 90 miles from its shores.
When the Cuban dictatorship lost its Soviet sugar daddy in the early 1990s, it nearly crumbled. Last year deep economic troubles again looked as if they might force change. As Venezuelan oil subsidies to Havana slowed, the rotting system teetered on the edge of collapse.
It was an opportunity for the church to show solidarity with the powerless Cuban people—or at least stand back. Instead the Vatican stepped in to help the Castros. In December we learned that Pope Francis brokered the Obama-Castro thaw, which while unlikely to spur improvements in human rights is already generating new interest in investing with the military government.
Some Catholics have tried to excuse the pope’s hostility toward economic freedom in “The Joy of the Gospel” by arguing that he grew up in a corrupt state-run economy and probably mistook it for a capitalist system. This is nonsense. Argentine statism explicitly denounces market economics.
There is another more plausible explanation for why the pope shows disdain in his exhortation for “a crude and naive trust in the goodness of those wielding economic power and in the sacralized workings of the prevailing economic system.” It lies in an Argentine sense of cultural superiority over the money-grubbing capitalists to the north and faith in the state to protect it.
Mexican historian Enrique Krauze traces this to an intellectual backlash against the U.S. after the Spanish defeat in the Spanish-American war. Examples he cites in his 2011 book “Redeemers” include the Nicaraguan poet Rubén Darío and the Franco-Argentine historian Paul Groussac, who both painted Americans as uncivilized beasts. According to Mr. Krauze, the southern cone—especially Argentina—also had imported the idea of a “socialism that fought to improve the economic, cultural and educational level of the poor, while generating a nationalist state.”
In 1900 Uruguayan José Enrique Rodó published “Ariel,” which emphasized “the superiority of Latin culture over the mere utilitarianism espoused” by the North. Rodó was “the first ideologue of Latin American nationalism,” and his influence spread throughout the region. “Latin Americanism, especially in the South, was also anti-Yankeeism,” Mr. Krauze writes.
Fast forward 115 years and Cuba is again a symbol of struggle between the North and the South. Many Latin American intellectuals don’t like the dictatorship but they loathe U.S. affluence and power. They know that a full-blown collapse of Cuba would likely bring back the Americans. That’s why they tolerate the status quo.
I can only speculate about the Holy Father’s Cuba views. But he is earning a dubious political reputation. In August 2014, he lifted the church’s 29-year ban on Maryknoll priest Miguel d’Escoto Brockmann’s right to celebrate Mass. The communist cleric who once served as Nicaraguan foreign minister for the Marxist Sandinistas was demoted by Pope John Paul II for refusing to get out of politics.
After the ban was lifted, Father d’Escoto rushed to denounce the late beloved Polish pontiff for “an abuse of authority.” He also declared Fidel Castro a messenger of the Holy Spirit in “the necessity of struggle” to establish “the reign of God on this earth that is the alternative to the empire.”
Last week Rev. Gustavo Gutierrez, the Peruvian who launched liberation theology, was back at the Vatican. He told journalists that the church never condemned his brand of thinking and praised Pope Francis’ views on poverty. He didn’t mention the sharp drop in Peruvian poverty since policy makers threw out his ideas. Maybe the pope will talk about it on his September trip to Cuba.
Write to O’Grady@wsj.com
