Unfulfilled Promise
Pope Francis and the Israel-Hamas war
Vatican Media via Vatican Pool/Getty Images
Vatican Media via Vatican Pool/Getty Images
Vatican Media via Vatican Pool/Getty Images
Pope Francis has called for an investigation to determine if Israel’s operation in Gaza constitutes genocide, according to a new book published for the Catholic Church’s jubilee year. “According to some experts, what is happening in Gaza has the characteristics of a genocide,” the pope said in excerpts published Sunday by the Italian daily La Stampa.
What makes the inflammatory statements in the pope’s book especially disturbing is that they follow on remarks by the pope that appear to demonize Jews even more broadly and which are contrary to teachings of the Church. Pope Francis’ prior Letter to Catholics of the Middle East on the first anniversary of the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel from Gaza provoked widespread confusion and consternation among Jews and Catholics. While he has spoken regularly about the attack and the fighting that erupted in its wake, his inclusion in the letter of a citation of John 8:44 to denounce the evils of war was to many inexplicable.
The verse chosen by the pontiff, a vitriolic accusation that the Jews “are from [their] father, the devil,” has for centuries provoked and been used to justify Church hostility to Jews. Yet such terrible imagery of Jewish malfeasance is thoroughly out of place in a modern Catholic document. Regrettably, the pope nonetheless chose to use this notorious verse at a time when global antisemitism has reached disturbingly high levels. Such a statement threatens the intellectual work of his Catholic predecessors going back to the 1960s.
While the citation is surely troubling, more significant is the letter itself, for it is yet another example of an ongoing presentation of Francis’ extensive and controversial views on the Israel-Hamas war. This letter has made people aware of this significant body of statements and demonstrates the compelling need to understand current relations with one of the Jewish community’s most influential and important partners, Pope Francis and the Catholic Church. In the year after the attack, Francis has spoken publicly about the war at least 75 different times. The conflict is not just like other conflicts, for it occurs in a place “which has witnessed the history of revelation” (2/2/24). Not only is he understandably very distressed about the war, but he is also clearly knowledgeable about it and notes many aspects of it (e.g., hostages, negotiations, humanitarian aid, Israeli airstrikes, challenges for aid workers). With the possible exception of Russia’s war on Ukraine, no other conflict has received such frequent mention by Francis, nor has he engaged so intimately with the specific features of other, often more deadly conflicts. He addressed the war most often in scheduled gatherings for the Sunday Angelus Prayer and in weekly audiences with the general public, though he has discussed it at greater length in official contexts (e.g., Address to Members of the Diplomatic Corps Accredited to the Holy See, 1/8/24).
Francis, with rare exceptions, ignores or minimizes the nature of the threats faced by Israel. Despite the avowed goals of Israel’s enemies, he never acknowledges this as distinctly genocidal in intent.
Pope Francis does not just speak homiletically. His statements express his deep-seated and passionate convictions about morality and political affairs. They also both reflect and influence current trends in Catholic thinking about the Israel-Hamas war. The Holy See of course is not just a religious institution but also a state, engaged in pragmatic exchanges and negotiations with other states and organizations. The pope’s views on war and peace necessarily shape Vatican diplomacy and guide Catholic political proposals, as seen for example in the statement of the Apostolic Nuncio to the U.N. in January 2024, which is replete with references to Francis’ speeches and elaboration on his ideas.
Francis is struggling to reconcile traditional Catholic just war theory, which began with St. Augustine centuries ago, with contemporary Catholic resistance to almost any justification of war, especially without international sanction (Fratelli Tutti 258 n. 242; see also the Catechism of the Catholic Church 2302-17). The latter, more skeptical view of war has roots in the 19th century but emerged strongly after World War II and the Second Vatican Council (1962-65), especially in the wake of the Shoah and the development of nuclear weapons. It continues to develop today, with Francis giving it his own emphases that reflect his roots in the global south and the influence of liberationist theology.
It is ironic, or perhaps predictable, that the Catholic Church in the modern period, now without access to military power, has moved away from just war theory and now largely deploys its more restrained views of war and peace in judging others. Given the prominence of the Israel-Hamas war in Francis’ speeches and its moral and political complexity, as well as his stature internationally, his views are relevant and influential.
The pope cannot and does not separate the Jewish-Catholic relationship from the Israel-Hamas war. Francis has spoken often and highly personally about Jewish-Catholic relations and emphasized his commitment to deepening the connection between the two long-estranged communities. He has celebrated the remarkable changes that started with the Second Vatican Council, noting that “enemies and strangers have become friends and brothers” (10/28/15). Building upon the admirable endeavors of Popes John Paul II and Benedict XV, he has endorsed profound theological changes in Catholic teachings about Judaism and expressed sadness over Catholics’ past misdeeds against Jews (e.g., Evangelii Gaudium 248). Relevant here in particular are the popes’ expressions of support for the State of Israel (especially following the establishment of diplomatic relations between Israel and the Holy See in 1993) and peacemaking endeavors for the region, which Francis has continued. He was warmly welcomed by national leadership during his visit to Israel in 2014 and emphatically insisted “the State of Israel has every right to exist in safety and prosperity” (10/28/15).
A sense of this fraught history and a Catholic responsibility to the Jewish people and the State of Israel emerges from his comments during his papacy. He insists that “to attack Jews is anti-Semitism, but an outright attack on the State of Israel is also anti-Semitism” (10/28/15). Catholics, above all, he says, should not be indifferent to such hostility. The Shoah is never far from his mind. Past hostility to Jews, manifest in violence and genocide, should guide the Church in the present and the future.
Speaking to a Jewish audience in Rome, he said Catholics should “always maintain the highest level of vigilance [against hostility toward Jews], in order to be able to intervene immediately in defense of human dignity and peace” (1/17/16). He insists here on an active stance, alert to such threats, “lest we become indifferent” (1/27/20). Responding to a letter from Jewish scholars written in November 2023 expressing deep concern over “the worst wave of antisemitism since 1945,” he says the Oct. 7 attack against Israel in particular reminds him that the promise “never again” remains relevant and must be taught and affirmed anew (2/2/24). Likewise, the Church’s commitment to opposing antisemitism remains firm. Because of the “path that the Church has walked with you,” he replied, it “rejects every form of anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism, unequivocally condemning manifestations of hatred towards Jews and Judaism as a sin against God.”
Francis’ statements following Oct. 7, 2023, are therefore disappointing on multiple levels. First, he does not fulfill his commitment to vigorously and publicly oppose antisemitism and anti-Judaism. By ignoring central aspects of the conflict, such as the motivations of the combatants, he actually undercuts his promise of vigilance and resistance against all such forms of hatred. Second, his view of the war is not constructive. Desiring to move Catholic theology away from just war theory and toward a nascent so-called just peace theory, he offers little practical or moral guidance in the present Israel-Hamas war. Instead, he misrepresents the nature of the conflict and simplistically presents highly complex and nuanced situations in service of his a priori views on war in general. While it would be unreasonable to expect him to become a partisan in the conflict or to dig deeply into the nature of the opposition Israel is facing, he has failed to consider the need for military self-defense or to assess whether antisemitic hatred of Jews—an explicit concern of his—lies behind any of the aggression and rhetoric against Israel.
Pope Francis’ statements on the conflict that started on Oct. 7 should be situated in the broader context of his thinking about war and violence. His principled opposition to any justification for war is both morally and logically questionable. On the one hand, he affirms the acceptability of self-defense through the use of force: “It is the right of those who are attacked to defend themselves” (10/11/23). As is widely understood, this right is not unlimited. Traditionally, one must satisfy the requirements both for initiating a war (jus ad bellum) and for prosecuting a war (jus in bello). Although Francis does not use these technical Latin terms, they are present behind his focus on the fate of “innocent victims” (10/11/23) and claim that “even when exercising the right of legitimate defence, it is essential to adhere to a proportionate use of force” (1/8/24; see also 9/29/24). There are also “various international conventions, signed by many countries,” that place restraints on certain actions (1/8/24, quoting Gaudium et Spes 79). A combatant must engage in a careful assessment of a variety of factors (including some not mentioned here) and only then it is possible that a war is permissible.
On the other hand, the pope is consistently unwilling to undertake an assessment of the acceptability of and justifications offered for this war. Despite having endorsed the possibility of the legitimate use of force (understanding that harm may result), he then evaluates the justice of Israeli military actions in general teleologically, that is, simply by whether they cause harm and suffering: “No war is worth the tears of a mother who has seen her child mutilated or killed; no war is worth the loss of the life of even one human being” (11/10/23). This approach avoids careful assessment of the goals, alternatives, and context in decisions about the justice of undertaking military action in favor of blunt denunciations of such actions because they cause harm. This latter standard of harm, with its powerful emotional character, supplants the earlier tradition of just war criteria (in particular jus ad bellum) without explanation. Now, one is asked to “see war for what it is: nothing other than an immense tragedy, a ‘useless slaughter’” (1/8/24). The terrible suffering of the victims leads him to jettison his own limited endorsement of violence for self-defense. In particular, he delegitimizes any action at all and even the process of assessing the extent of harm it might cause. The suffering of innocents as such, regardless of any larger context or military purpose, renders force and war unjust.
For example, when “unarmed civilians” are killed, “this is terrorism and war” (12/17/23). If true, then motive and context become irrelevant in his overly broad denunciation. But war and terrorism are, of course, not at all the same thing, unless one ignores important differences and only considers some generic level of suffering. Then the presumably intentional murder of innocents (terrorism) becomes indistinguishable from, say, proportional violence used for self-defense (some forms of war).
Speaking about war in general, Francis makes categorical judgments without sufficient consideration for specific circumstances. This renders even wars of self-defense, which could be at least theoretically justified, unacceptable. He repeatedly insists that, without exception, “every war leaves our world worse than it was before” (6/7/24). Dozens of times when discussing the Israel-Hamas conflict, he claims “Wars are / war is always a defeat” (e.g., 10/15/23, 10/29/23, 11/8/23, 11/19/23, 12/20/23, 2/7/24, 3/20/24, 4/24/24, 6/19/24, 8/4/24, 10/7/24). That is, wars, he says, are guaranteed to be a net loss. This evades the unavoidable hard questions that arise when thinking about the justness of a war, especially in response to aggression.
It is indisputable that both Israel’s and Hamas’ actions raise difficult and serious moral questions. There are complex assessments that must be made; even a refusal to make a choice is a choice. However, Francis seems to want to sidestep this difficult situation. While he hints at his awareness that there are unavoidable questions, he nonetheless rejects war in its entirety. He willingly risks being “deemed naive for choosing peace” (Fratelli Tutti 261), as if simply standing on the side of the “victims of violence” (as he says) is a moral or even plausible option.
In reality, there are almost always innocent victims on all sides, as there are in the Israel-Hamas war. It is misleading to suggest the focus should be only on how to show sympathy for victims (of course one should); rather, he should engage in a moral assessment of the actions of the combatants and extent and causes of civilian losses. Francis sidesteps this discussion with his demand that we “not remain mired in theoretical discussions” (FT 261). Despite his desire to avoid such discussions, however, a moral reckoning requires a difficult confrontation with all aspects of the use of violence, for not all violence is the same. Put another way, if all “war is in itself a crime against humanity,” then moral distinctions between how and why wars are fought disappear (1/14/24).
While it is of course true that nations can engage in war for base motives (failing to abide by the principles of jus ad bellum), Francis seems not to believe that there might be anything but base motives. Francis illustrates this when he introduces a false dichotomy when speaking about the Israel-Hamas war, between those who seek peace and those who are eager to embrace war. For example, he says, “We need to be vigilant and critical towards an ideology that is unfortunately dominant today, which claims that ‘conflict, violence and breakdown are part of the normal functioning of a society (FT 236)’” (6/7/24). This formulation is unduly simplistic and essentializing. He presents those who recognize that war can be necessary and just as not only misguided but captive to a malignant and dangerous worldview.
The pope chose to use this notorious verse at a time when global antisemitism has reached disturbingly high levels. Such a statement threatens the intellectual work of his Catholic predecessors going back to the 1960s.
Francis’ sweeping indictment of all wars, regardless of how or why they are fought, buttresses his claim that violence is inherently self-defeating (“always, always, always a defeat”)—a ruse orchestrated by those who want to increase suffering and death. There can be no justifiable military action, for what lurks behind claims that war is just is selfishness and greed: “What is really at stake [in war] are the power struggles between different social groups [and] partisan economic interests” (6/7/24). These, he argues, are what “really” prompt wars and conflict. As an example, he says war serves no goal but the enrichment of those who sell weapons. No people or country can presumably decide rationally and appropriately to employ force, for they are certain to suffer a net loss. “The only ones to gain [in war] are arms manufacturers” (11/19/23). They “profit the most” (4/24/24).
This is a reductionist perception of history, as if Francis can discern what motivates combatants. (Were Hitler’s motives in WWII in fact no different from those of Churchill and Roosevelt, and is it not possible to make any moral distinction between the war of conquest fought by the Nazis and the defensive wars fought by the nations they attacked and sought to obliterate?) In this way, Francis’ judgment becomes speculative and undermines his admission that some forms of war are acceptable (while tragic and undesirable). According to his logic here, however, war becomes inherently unacceptable. In effect, there is no longer any evaluation needed and no reason to consider the claims of a potential combatant. In fact, casting a skeptical eye over wars from “recent decades,” he bemoans that “every single war has been ostensibly ‘justified,’” maybe with surreptitious help from those who will profit (FT 258). Again, this sort of sweeping judgment is symptomatic of a false dichotomy and leads him to the opposite extreme: If wars have been justified on spurious grounds, then he demands “never again war.”
It is on these spurious foundations that Francis erects his misleading characterizations of the two main combatants in the Israel-Hamas war, the State of Israel and Hamas. In over a year, he has never once mentioned Hamas by name, though mentions of Israel are ubiquitous. This imbalance is significant, not just because it is unsettling to fail to name (and describe the tactics of) one of the aggressors to a conflict (especially one widely considered a terrorist group), but because his studied ambiguity precludes a critical engagement with the nature of Hamas and other opponents.
Francis’ thinking seems constrained by outdated assumptions about the parties to a conflict. He speaks as if he is commenting on a conflict between two warring nation-states. He addresses his comments to both parties equally (again, without naming Hamas), asking for a cease-fire and the release of hostages (10/11/23, 12/10/23, 6/7/24, 9/15/24). However, it is clear that his comments are actually relevant for and directed almost entirely at Israel. For example, in pleading for an end to fighting, he appeals to law (“international humanitarian law”), our shared humanity (“the defence of human dignity”), and practical political goals (1/8/24). These are couched in language suitable for a modern democracy such as Israel, which, at least in theory, aspires to legal and moral behavior. However, this imbalance reveals his misunderstanding of the nature of Hamas.
Hamas is above all an extreme religious group committed in principle to the violent elimination of the State of Israel, even at the cost of its members’ own lives and the lives of innocent fellow Palestinians under its rule. Its leaders publicly affirm a desire to murder Israeli civilians. Hamas’ very existence as a terrorist organization is a transgression of international law, as is its leaders’ promise that they would repeat the murderous violence of Oct. 7 “again and again” if given the chance. Neither moral nor legal expectations have any relevance to Hamas, even if it has also served as leadership in Gaza. In light of this terrible reality, Francis’ hope that “the leaders of nations and the parties in [this] conflict may find the way to peace and unity … [and] all recognize each other as brothers and sisters” (6/7/24; see also 9/13/24) seems not just imbalanced but indifferent to reality. Hamas has repeatedly said the opposite: It endorses unyielding violence until victory. In this conflict, then, only one party—Israel—has leaders who even speak the same moral “language” as Francis. His hope, then, perhaps could have made sense in a conflict between two modern nation-states. That is definitely not the nature of the present conflict, and it is puzzling that Francis persists in seeing or presenting it this way.
There are a wide range of explanations for and understandings of the hostility that exists between Israel and numerous state and nonstate actors. In some cases, there are relatively explicable, pragmatic reasons for conflict. This is clearest in the tragic conflict with Palestinians, given disputes over land, sovereignty, and control of holy sites, among other things. Regardless of one’s biases, it is generally possible to understand rationally why there have been decades of clashes between the sides. However, some of Israel’s opponents have much less rational goals in a pragmatic, political sense and are primarily influenced by ideologically and religiously based hostility. Thus, Hezbollah in Lebanon, following Israel’s 2006 withdrawal from a security zone in the south, lost the justification it gave for maintaining its aggression. Nonetheless, it vigorously continued to prepare for war and invasion. Iran and proxies such as the Yemeni Houthis, both more than a thousand miles away, lack any obvious reasons for hostility toward Israel. They have no dispute over resources or borders or competing historical claims. Likewise, with Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza in 2005, Hamas too achieved almost all its ostensible goals, including political power over Gaza. The vital thread connecting these opponents is the motivation for their antipathy: not practical and explicable interests, perhaps amenable to negotiation and resolution, but unyielding, religiously based hatred.
Irrational hatred, grounded in extremist religious and ideological claims, has exploded in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in the last few decades, especially among Jews and Muslims and among Israelis and Arabs. Most relevant here is the emergence of vitriolic anti-Judaism and antisemitism among Palestinians and other Muslims. As noted, while some conflicts can be understood rationally, Israel’s opponents have increasingly expressed their motivations in explicitly theological terms, using venomous language not just against Israelis but against Jews and indeed all Westerners. This turns Israelis into Jewish enemies of God and usurpers of Muslim land; this also turns a traditionally political and secular conflict into a religious war.
For example, Hamas’ recent official video bluntly says, “O Lord … let us kill your enemies, the Jews.” Likewise, the language of other aggressors is viciously antisemitic and anti-Jewish. The Houthis’ slogan illustrates this as well: “God is the Greatest, Death to America, Death to Israel, A Curse Upon the Jews, Victory to Islam.” Hezbollah’s charter says its goal is Israel’s “final obliteration from existence.” Former leader Hassan Nasrallah spoke of Jews in terms borrowed from medieval antisemitism and anti-Jewish Quranic surahs (e.g., 82). Iran, the backer of these organizations, has made hatred of Israel and Jews a fundamental aspect of state policy since 1979 and, like Hezbollah, undertakes terror attacks against Jews throughout the world. Though sometimes these opponents insist they only hate Zionists or Israelis, not Jews, their actions and discourse indicate otherwise. Expressions of vicious hostility toward Jews, the use of traditional anti-Jewish tropes, and annihilationist threats of destruction of the only Jewish state are ubiquitous.
This context is directly relevant to Francis’ comments on and understanding of the Israel-Hamas war. Francis, with rare exceptions, ignores or minimizes the nature of the threats faced by Israel. While he usually speaks generally and succinctly about world events, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict consistently gets not only more attention than any other topic but typically occupies the first place in most of his reviews of international conflicts. Likewise, his specific commitment to the Jewish people reasonably raises expectations that he will be especially sensitive to threats to their well-being.
Without any military capabilities, all a pope has is his moral stature, and this current pope, who is widely respected, speaks with great authority on diverse moral questions. It is for this reason that his statements are so puzzling and undermine the admirable stances to which he has committed himself and the Church. Thus, it is surprising that Francis neglects to note that Israel’s enemies seek not a conventional military victory but the total destruction of the country and consequent immediate endangerment of all its citizens. This goal is uniquely malevolent. None of the other countries he mentions face state and / or nonstate actors seeking their physical elimination. (Russia’s attempt to conquer Ukraine does include acts of mass murder and is intended to impose brutal Russian control over the country.) Francis is sensitive to this possibility in general and denounces it: “No-one should threaten the existence of other [countries]” (4/14/24). Despite these avowed goals of Israel’s enemies, Francis never acknowledges this as distinctly genocidal in intent.
Francis harshly and regularly denounces terrorism (in the usual sense of the term) when looking at other parts of the world (e.g., an attack on innocent civilians in Kerman, Iran). He is also sensitive to the religious aspects of terrorist violence, especially for minority religious groups (1/6/24). However, when he mentions terrorism in the context of the Israel-Hamas war, he always lumps it in with other actions (such as “terrorism and war” [noted above, from 12/17/23] or “terrorism and extremism” [10/11/23, 1/8/24]). He never notes the distinctive features of terrorism nor the labeling of Hamas—the main aggressor in Gaza—as a terrorist organization. He obfuscates the deep moral divide between these two terrible but profoundly different acts.
Why does Francis fail to live up to the moral and historical commitments to Jews that he emphatically endorses? Does the appearance of anti-Judaism in the context of a war explain his silence? Perhaps he prefers to speak out against hatred of Jews only when Jews are exclusively victims.
Yet the presence of Jewish combatants (some of whom sometimes may transgress moral and international laws, as do members of all other legitimate armies) should not obviate his concern. From a moral and practical standpoint, there are, along with many Palestinian victims, Jewish victims, whose lives were lost because of the unyielding and genocidal acts of their aggressors. Do the terrible losses suffered by Palestinians make his concern for Jews moot? That would undermine the seriousness with which he speaks about the Jewish-Catholic relationship and suggest he has only finite reserves of compassion or imbalanced sympathies. Perhaps Francis hopes to maintain a future role as a negotiator and thus refrains from naming and describing Israel’s aggressors. That, however, seems a very high price to pay morally and reputationally for potential influence in negotiations in the future.
None of these explanations alone suffice here, for Francis’ political and religious views are complex and sometimes inconsistent. This might be understandable had not the Church determined to break with its own history of hostility toward the Jewish people and promised to say “no to any form of anti-Semitism and [to condemn] any insult, discrimination and persecution derived from that” (10/28/15). It is hard to see the pope’s recent statements as fulfillments of that promise.
Dr. Adam Gregerman is Professor of Jewish Studies in the Dept. of Theology and Religious Studies and Associate Director of the Institute for Jewish-Catholic Relations at Saint Joseph’s University in Philadelphia.