Pope Leo XIV: The ‘Latino Yankee’ who could redefine power in the Church

On a historic Thursday in the Vatican, Robert Francis Prevost was elected the 267th pope of the Roman Catholic Church, adopting the name Pope Leo XIV. He shattered a longstanding informal veto against American candidates for the papacy. As the first American to ascend to the throne of Saint Peter, his election signals a new era not only for the global Church, but for the geopolitical landscape it inhabits.

Standing before the world on the Vatican balcony, Pope Leo XIV began his pontificate with a powerful plea: “a united church, always seeking peace and justice.” In choosing the name Leo, he invoked the memory of Pope Leo XIII—the 19th-century reformer revered as the father of Catholic social teaching. That choice alone speaks volumes. Pope Leo XIII, who led the Church from 1878 to 1903 is best remembered for his groundbreaking 1891 encyclical Rerum Novarum. In this document, he offered a strong defence of workers’ rights, including the right to a living wage, and laid the foundation for the Church’s modern social teaching. He came to be known as the “Pope of the Workers”.

Leo XIII urged the Church to engage with the working class. His aim was to ease some of the harsher realities of capitalism, advocate for the dignity of labour, and foster a more harmonious relationship between capital and labour. Opting for the name Leo suggests that the new pope intends to steer the Church toward a greater emphasis on labour rights, human dignity and a modern moral conscience rooted in justice.

An unexpected ascent

Until recently, the idea of an American pope was largely dismissed. In the early days, logistical challenges—such as long sea voyages—made participation in papal conclaves virtually impossible for American cardinals. Later, geopolitical anxieties took over. A superpower pope, it was feared, would raise suspicions of undue American influence over Church policy, casting a shadow over the Vatican’s independence.

But those anxieties appear outdated in a world of shifting global power dynamics. The College of Cardinals has evolved. Geography no longer dominates; what matters now is the candidate’s character, vision and spiritual leadership. At 69, Leo embodies all three.

Leo’s election, like that of his predecessor Francis, is historic in tone and content. If Francis represented a surprise from the global South—a Latin American Jesuit who challenged convention—then Leo XIV represents a surprise of a different sort: a continuity candidate cloaked in novelty, bridging continents and ideologies with unexpected fluency.

From Chicago to Chiclayo

Born on September 14, 1955, in Chicago to a catechist father and librarian mother, Leo grew up in a family of Italian, French and Spanish descent. New reports trace his ancestry also to the Creole people of colour from New Orleans. The pope’s maternal grandparents—both identified in various historical records as Black or mulatto—lived in the city’s Seventh Ward, a traditionally Catholic neighbourhood known for its vibrant mix of African, Caribbean and European heritage. 

Joseph Martinez and Louise Baquié, the grandparents in question, eventually relocated to Chicago in the early twentieth century, where they had a daughter, Mildred, who would become the mother of the future pope. This revelation means that Leo is not only making history as the first pontiff born in the United States; he also hails from a family that embodies the diverse and intricate tapestry of the American experience. It remains unclear whether Leo has ever publicly acknowledged his Creole heritage. His brother has stated that the family did not identify as Black. The Vatican’s announcement of his election focused primarily on his upbringing in Chicago and his many years of pastoral service in Peru.

Leo attended a minor seminary operated by the Order of St Augustine and later earned a mathematics degree from Villanova University in Pennsylvania, the only Augustinian university in the United States. His calling to religious life was evident early; he joined the Augustinians in 1977 and soon began theological studies in Chicago before completing his doctorate in canon law at the Angelicum in Rome.

But it was his missionary work in Peru that would define much of his clerical identity. Sent there in 1985, Leo immersed himself in the pastoral and academic life of Trujillo, where he taught canon, patristic and moral law. His leadership potential became apparent when he was named chancellor of the prelature of Chulucanas and later director of formation at the seminary.

In these roles, he witnessed first-hand the theological and political tensions that roiled Latin America’s Catholic communities. His years in Peru included the country’s violent period under the Shining Path insurgency, shaping his views on social justice and peace. Amid divisions between left-leaning advocates of liberation theology and traditionalists aligned with the right-wing Opus Dei, Leo carved out a reputation as a calming, centrist influence. Known for his simplicity and collegiality, he was often seen sharing meals with priests and offering pastoral presence in the Church’s most remote outposts.

A steady hand in turbulent times

Leo’s administrative ascent was swift and steady. In 2001, he was elected Prior General of the Augustinians, a role he held for two terms. From his base at the Augustinianum—just steps from St Peter’s Basilica—he built global networks across the Catholic hierarchy. In 2014, he was appointed bishop of Chiclayo, a northern Peruvian city, necessitating Peruvian naturalisation. There, he further solidified his standing as a bridge-builder in a deeply polarised Church.

Leo’s Vatican star rose sharply under Francis. In 2023, he was elevated to the rank of cardinal and named prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops, making him one of the most influential figures in determining episcopal appointments worldwide. In the Vatican, he was known as the “Latino Yankee”. His proximity to Francis, despite theological differences, was unmistakable. The Argentine pope seemed to trust his American counterpart as a prudent, stabilising force.

Complex conservatism

Yet Pope Leo XIV is no ideological clone of his predecessor. Though committed to many of the social justice causes that defined the Francis era such as support for migrants, care for the poor, and opposition to unrestrained capitalism, Leo has voiced more conservative views on gender and family issues.

In a 2012 address, he criticised cultural acceptance of what he called “the homosexual lifestyle” and alternative family structures. As bishop, he opposed Peru’s attempts to introduce gender studies into school curricula, arguing that “the promotion of gender ideology is confusing because it seeks to create genders that don’t exist.” 

He has also faced criticism for his position on priests accused of sexual abuse. In 2000, a year after he was named the provincial prior of the Augustinians in the Midwest, he was criticised for permitting a priest who had sexually abused minors to stay in a Chicago rectory located quite close to a Catholic school.

Such things seem to place him to the right of Francis on matters of sexuality and education, but not necessarily in alignment with the American Catholic right. In fact, Leo XIV may be best understood as a check against the increasingly politicised strain of American Catholicism allied with President Donald Trump.

A thorn in Trump’s side?

Though Trump rushed to congratulate the new pope, many of his right-wing allies quickly mobilised against him. Within hours of his election, social media lit up with attacks labelling him a “woke Marxist pope”. Far-right commentator Laura Loomer who is close to Trump derided him as a “Marxist puppet”, reflecting fears that the new pontiff would oppose nationalist Catholicism.

They may be right to worry. Leo has a track record of criticising the Trump administration’s immigration policies. His social media presence—before being scrubbed—reflected open disdain for efforts to co-opt Christianity for political ends. When Vice President J.D. Vance claimed that Christian doctrine supported turning away migrants in favour of family loyalty, Leo put out a blunt tweet earlier this year: “Jesus doesn’t ask us to rank our love for others.”

Indeed, the new pope’s global and pastoral instincts contrast sharply with the power-centric, culture-war-driven Catholicism prevalent in parts of the US. Today, with six of the nine American Supreme Court justices and the vice president among his flock, Leo XIV is the most powerful Catholic in American public life. Yet he appears deeply wary of wielding power for its own sake.

A continuity candidate, but his own man

Leo XIV is, in many ways, a continuity candidate, favouring much of Francis’s agenda but deploying it with quieter, more methodical precision. Colleagues describe him as pragmatic and discreet, a man of few grand gestures but consistent principles. He still eats with Augustinian priests when he gets a chance and insists on washing his own dishes.

A fan of baseball and tennis, he has been known to explain the rules of the former to confused Italians. Yet beneath this modest persona lies a formidable networker, administrator and theological moderate who is poised to guide the Church through its next chapter.

Nearly 70, Leo offers the prospect of a stable papacy—long enough to effect meaningful reform, yet short enough to avoid institutional stagnation. Rome is yet to forget the last years of Pope John Paul II. His election is a watershed moment not just for the American Church, but for Catholicism’s evolving relationship with power, politics and the global South. Whether a bridge-builder or disruptor, reformer or traditionalist, Leo appears ready to lead. In the words he offered the world upon his election, he may have summarised both the challenge and the promise of his papacy: “A united church, always seeking peace and justice.”

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