Pope Leo makes the Argentine homecoming Francis never attempted

Milei, once a Francis critic, calls him greatest Argentine

Vast crowds of young Argentines — a generation Catholic leaders had feared was abandoning the pews — packed the parks of Buenos Aires and cheered as if at a concert when Pope Leo XIV promised a church open to “todos, todos, todos.” Those words, like all of Leo’s surest applause lines during the visit, belonged to his Argentine predecessor, Pope Francis. So did much of the week’s adulation: billboards welcoming Leo bore Francis’s face, and pilgrims waved signs declaring “Francisco y León, un solo corazón” — Francis and Leo, one heart.

Francis’s fierce defense of the downtrodden made him a moral voice abroad but long embroiled him in political fights at home — controversy that many believe deterred him from returning as pope. He visited more than 60 countries as pontiff, including four of Argentina’s five neighbors, but never returned home, despite invitations from four successive presidents. A homecoming, observers said, would have meant treading a minefield.

As archbishop of Buenos Aires, Francis — then Jorge Mario Bergoglio — mobilized the church during Argentina’s 2001 economic crisis, sending priests into the slums and opening soup kitchens, schools and drug rehab centers as state services receded. But his concern for the poor did not make him a natural ally of Peronism, the long-dominant populist movement emphasizing social justice. He accused its leaders of arrogance and clashed with them over same-sex marriage. Yet once Francis moved to Rome as pontiff, Peronists became some of his biggest fans, seeing their priorities reflected in his criticism of unbridled capitalism and his outreach to the marginalized. That affinity infuriated conservatives, who blame Peronism for ruining Argentina’s economy and presiding over rampant corruption. However hard Francis tried to stay above the fray, even his smallest gestures — a dour expression beside right-leaning President Mauricio Macri, a relaxed lunch with left-leaning President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner — were read as proof of his political sympathies.

“At first many people were thrilled to see an Argentine elected pope. But once they heard his criticism, they stopped loving him quite so much,” said the Rev. Lorenzo de Vedia, known as Padre Toto, one of the so-called slum priests who worked under Bergoglio in the capital’s informal settlements. “He became seen as a partisan pope.”

Argentines weren’t the only ones Francis provoked. His blunt, freewheeling papacy divided Catholics worldwide. He accused Vatican officials of “spiritual Alzheimer’s” and called attacks from American conservatives “an honor.” He delighted progressives by opening long-taboo debates, then disappointed them by balking at doctrinal change.

Now Leo — a Chicago-born former missionary in Peru whom Francis made a bishop and then a cardinal — is carrying the same causes forward with a gentleness that tempers his predecessor’s hard-charging style, church leaders say.

More than a year after Francis’s death, Leo made the homecoming Francis never could. Over four days he followed in his predecessor’s footsteps: praying in Francis’s old cathedral, dispensing blessings at the prison where Francis once washed inmates’ feet, embracing residents of a disability care home where he also preached, and celebrating Mass at the Luján shrine he revered. Leo called the trip “a homage” to Francis and invoked his predecessor at least 26 times. “Leo is fulfilling the promise that Francis left unfinished,” said Carlos Custer, a former Argentine ambassador to the Vatican. “Francis’ presence was felt at every turn.”

Leo did more than honor Francis’s memory. In his own voice, and without the baggage of an Argentine passport, he revived the appeals that had made Francis at once beloved and divisive at home. In Córdoba, Leo urged Argentines to keep “making a mess,” echoing Francis’s famous call for young Catholics to shake things up in their dioceses. Before an audience of garbage pickers and business leaders, he invoked Francis’s “three Ts” — tierra, techo y trabajo, or land, housing and work — the rallying cry of Argentina’s popular movements.

In his opening address to political leaders last Sunday, standing beside a self-declared “anarcho-capitalist” president, Leo urged “careful use of words” and insisted that “the economy must be at the service of the person, not the person in the service of the economy.” Milei, who once insulted Francis as “the representative of evil on earth,” declared Francis “the most important Argentine in history” at Leo’s welcome ceremony, bringing a packed hall of his political allies and foes to its feet.

Church leaders describe the two pontificates as continuous. “Francis opened the way. He broke down walls. He was forceful and impetuous, firm in his principles and startling in his proposals,” said Cardinal Pedro Barreto, a Peruvian Jesuit and close ally of Francis. “Leo XIV is clearing the path Francis laid out so that it can be traveled by every baptized member of the church.” The Rev. Carlos María Galli, a prominent Argentine theologian who was close to Francis, said: “There is continuity between them in every respect — in their message of peace, their love for the poor, their choice to go places where people are suffering, in their emotional connection to the people. Francis brought Leo to the center of the church, and Leo has now brought Francis back to us.”

Pablo Forni, a sociologist at Argentina’s national research council, Conicet, said the visit clarified the scale of what Francis left behind. “It’s as though it has finally become clear that Francis left a very important legacy, not just for Argentina but for the universal church,” Forni said. “Leo is reaping what Francis sowed.”

Argentine politicians scrambled to claim Leo’s message as their own. Axel Kicillof, the Peronist governor of Buenos Aires province and a leading opposition figure, hailed the visit as “very necessary in these times of cruelty.” Vice President Victoria Villarruel defended the concept of social justice derided by her boss and championed by Francis, blaming “ignorance and fanaticism” for its frequent association with Peronism. Even Milei’s spokesman, Adrián Ravier, insisted Wednesday that by taming inflation, the government had put “the economy at the service of people.”

For observers, that political jockeying proved the wisdom of Francis’s decision to stay away — and the value of Leo as his messenger. “Had Bergoglio said the same things and visited the same places, it would have been seen as far more political,” said Gustavo Morello, an Argentine sociologist of religion at Boston College. “But you can’t accuse Leo of being a Peronist. So when he speaks about workers or people with disabilities, it’s the church speaking … and if you don’t like it, you can take it up with God.”