A troubled legacy? Pope Francis and Jewish-Catholic relations - opinion

Many in the Jewish community felt that the Vatican, which had once pledged never to stand aside when Jews were threatened, failed to condemn a group that openly calls for the annihilation of Jews.

 Pope Francis greets cardinals as he appears during the Palm Sunday Mass in Saint Peter's Square at the Vatican, April 13, 2025.  (photo credit: REUTERS/YARA NARDI)
Pope Francis greets cardinals as he appears during the Palm Sunday Mass in Saint Peter's Square at the Vatican, April 13, 2025.
(photo credit: REUTERS/YARA NARDI)

Pope Francis was known for his humility, emphasis on the poor, and outspoken critiques of global injustice. Pastoral warmth, a commitment to interfaith dialogue, and his conception of the Church as a “field hospital” for a wounded world marked his 12-year reign.

From the beginning of his papacy, however, some wondered how Francis’s Latin American background – rooted in social justice movements – would influence his stance on global conflicts, including those involving the Jewish people.

Early signals were promising: He cultivated friendships with Jewish leaders in Argentina, visited synagogues and Israel, and reiterated the Church’s commitment to Nostra Aetate, the Vatican II document repudiating antisemitism.

Yet even then, questions arose about his tendency toward near-pacifism. In addressing conflicts in the Middle East, for instance, Francis often stressed dialogue over armed conflict and highlighted the plight of marginalized communities without explicitly acknowledging the existential threats faced by Jews in Israel.

Post October 7

Those questions came to the fore in the aftermath of October 7, 2023, when Jews worldwide were reminded that antisemitic violence and genocidal rhetoric remain threats to Jewish survival.

Alarmed by the Vatican’s measured response, over 400 Jewish scholars and clergy sent an open letter to Pope Francis on November 12, 2023, urging him to “unequivocally condemn Hamas’s terrorist massacre” – what they termed a “full-fledged pogrom” – and to draw a clear line between Hamas’s actions and Israel’s legitimate self-defense. They invoked Nostra Aetate to underscore Catholicism’s moral duty to confront antisemitic tropes that resurface in the wake of such atrocities.

On February 2, 2024, Francis replied in a letter to his “Jewish brothers and sisters in Israel,” denouncing any form of Jew-hatred as “a sin against God.”

Yet, while many welcomed his condemnation of antisemitism, they also noted he did not explicitly name Hamas. Concern grew that his rhetoric continued to cast both sides – Israel and Hamas – as moral equivalents. Some attributed this omission to the Vatican’s desire for diplomatic neutrality. Still, it also risked painting a terror group and a sovereign state defending its citizens with the same moral brush.

This wariness deepened when observers noted that Francis’s background and worldview – shaped less by the Holocaust era and more by liberation theology’s critique of colonialism – might lead him to see the Israeli-Palestinian dispute primarily through a postcolonial lens. Well-intentioned as it might be, such a perspective disregards the reality of Jewish vulnerability, framing Palestinians solely as the oppressed while viewing Israel’s power with suspicion.

Although Pope Francis repeatedly condemned antisemitism, he seemed hesitant to emphasize Israel’s right to self-defense, prompting some to conclude that his postcolonial sympathies obscured the specific historical and existential dangers facing the Jewish people in the 21st century.

Tensions escalated in October 2024, when Francis quoted John 8:44 – “You belong to your father the devil” – while referring to the “spirit of evil” behind war. Though not directed at Jews specifically, this verse has fueled antisemitism for centuries.

Given the heightened threats against Jewish communities at the time, the reference seemed particularly insensitive. While the Vatican insisted Francis was simply condemning the “devilish” nature of war writ large, it did little to allay Jewish concerns and cast a pall over Jewish-Catholic relations.

THROUGHOUT HIS papacy, Pope Francis held to the notion that no modern war is truly “just.” From his encyclical Fratelli Tutti to his many public addresses, he argued that warfare in the nuclear age inevitably inflicts suffering on innocent people.

But to many Jews confronting a gloating, genocidal Hamas, this near-pacifist stance felt detached from the urgency of stopping a movement openly dedicated to their annihilation.

By criticizing Israeli military actions and Hamas atrocities in the same breath, Francis appeared to obscure the moral difference between a terror group intentionally targeting civilians and a sovereign state defending its citizens. His refusal to draw a firm distinction between aggressor and defender risked abetting tyranny rather than championing good.

Another development occurred in November 2024, when Francis cited unnamed “experts” who likened Israel’s actions in Gaza to “genocide” – even though he never used that term for the Hamas massacre of Israeli civilians. Soon after, a Vatican City nativity scene featuring a Palestinian keffiyeh went viral and exacerbated Jewish suspicions.

Although it was dismantled, and no direct link between it and Pope Francis was established, Israel’s Diaspora Affairs and Combating Antisemitism Minister Amichai Chikli went so far as to accuse the late pope of echoing an age-old “blood libel” narrative and downplaying Jewish suffering in a way that bordered on Holocaust denial.

To some Catholics, such accusations may seem overblown, yet they highlight how fragile Jewish-Catholic relations had become. In the wake of Pope Francis’s passing, both communities are reassessing his legacy.

Undeniably, he was a tireless advocate for global compassion and a staunch ally of the marginalized. Under his leadership, the Church made significant strides in rejecting its historical antisemitism.

But his unwavering commitment to pacifism during the Israel-Hamas War blinded him to the fact that it had been set off by Hamas’s butchery and to the harsh reality that confronting genocidal threats necessitates armed conflict.

By failing to explicitly condemn a group that openly calls for the annihilation of Jews, the Church inadvertently blurred a critical moral boundary. Many in the Jewish community felt that the Vatican, which had once pledged never to stand aside when Jews were threatened, resorted to ambiguous language at a moment when clear, decisive condemnation was imperative.

Authentic Jewish-Catholic rapprochement demands an unequivocal acknowledgment of the unique dangers posed by antisemitic terror. Recognizing Israel’s right to self-defense, explicitly naming hateful actors, and treating antisemitic tropes with the utmost seriousness are indispensable steps toward healing and progress.

These challenges remain at the core of Pope Francis’s complex legacy – a legacy that, despite its progressive milestones, underscores the urgent need for the Church to reconcile its universal vision of peace with the tangible demands of justice and security in our time.

The writer is a fellow at the Jewish People Policy Institute and a postdoctoral fellow at Bar-Ilan University’s Ma’ayan Center for Jewish Philosophy and Sustainability.