There is something striking about the confrontation unfolding between Washington and the Vatican. Two men, both shaped by post-war America, both old enough to remember Vietnam and the Civil Rights Movement, are engaged in what has become one of the most unusual ideological clashes between the Catholic Church and an American president in recent memory. One built his career in business, attaching his name to towers and deals. The other spent decades in the Peruvian highlands, working among communities affected by the very global inequalities linked to American policy. That contrast in experience, more than theology or politics, goes a long way in explaining why Pope Leo XIV and Donald Trump have found themselves at odds.
It was not expected to unfold this way. When Robert Prevost, a reserved Augustinian friar from Chicago, appeared on the balcony of St Peter’s as Leo XIV last May, he was seen as a measured figure, someone inclined towards careful language rather than public confrontation. Trump’s war against Iran has altered the tone significantly. Leo was clearly unhappy about how the Trump administration tried to frame the war in religious terms. In fact, Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth called it a “holy war” carried out “in the name of Jesus Christ”. After the US rescued a downed pilot during the Easter weekend, Hegseth compared it to the Resurrection and spoke of the need for “overwhelming violence” against enemies who deserved “no mercy”. Trump added to it, saying God was aligned with the United States.
For Leo, it raised a deeper concern about the use of religious language to justify violence. His response was more direct than many had anticipated. Writing on social media, he stated plainly that “God does not bless any conflict.” A follower of Christ, he argued, cannot side with those who wage war. On Palm Sunday, he drew on the prophet Isaiah to say that God does not hear the prayers of those whose hands are stained with blood. He warned against invoking the sacred in ways that legitimise violence, insisting that God “cannot be enlisted by darkness.” This was not the language of careful diplomacy. It reflected a position shaped by lived experience, particularly his years in South America, where he had seen the long-term effects of poverty and conflict. At certain moments, he appeared to believe, the Church must speak without qualification.
As the war and the war of words continued, reports surfaced about a confrontation between the Vatican and the Pentagon that took place in January. After the US operation to capture Venezuelan president Nicolas Maduro, Leo made a forceful plea for a more peaceful world order. “A diplomacy that promotes dialogue and seeks consensus among all parties is being replaced by a diplomacy based on force,” he said. Washington responded in a way that drew on history as well as politics. Elbridge Colby, a senior Pentagon official, summoned Cardinal Christophe Pierre, the Vatican’s ambassador to the United States, to tell him what the Trump administration felt about the Pontiff’s comments. Accounts of the meeting suggest it was tense, with the Vatican side receiving what was seen as a firm rebuke over a papal speech that questioned whether the prohibition on using force against sovereign states still held meaning.
During that exchange, the term “Avignon” was reportedly invoked. The reference is to the fourteenth century, when the papacy relocated to Avignon under pressure from the French crown, remaining there for decades in circumstances widely viewed as compromising its independence. Within the Vatican, the remark was understood as a pointed reminder of the realities of power. The United States, it implied, possessed the means to exert pressure in ways the Church could not ignore.
The Pentagon later described the meeting as “respectful and reasonable.” The Vatican responded that this account “does not correspond to the truth in any way.” The formal language masked a clear disagreement.
As the Iran war continued, the exchanges became sharper. On Easter Sunday, while Trump spoke of destruction, Leo addressed crowds in St Peter’s Square and called for restraint, urging those with weapons to lay them down. When Trump issued a warning that “a whole civilisation will die tonight” on April 7 unless Iran reopened the Strait of Hormuz, Leo condemned the statement as “truly unacceptable.” Later, during a peace vigil in the basilica, he spoke against what he described as the “idolatry of self and money” and the display of power, in remarks that were widely interpreted as directed at political leaders.
Perhaps most notable was the Pope's decision to appeal directly to American Catholics. He called on them to contact their congressional representatives and press for an end to the war. It was an unusual step, effectively bypassing the White House and engaging directly with the domestic political process of another country. In Rome, the implications would have been clear. Leo proceeded regardless.
The political reaction within the United States has been mixed. Some evangelical leaders have criticised the Pope, arguing that he misunderstands both history and doctrine. Franklin Graham (evangelical leader and the late Billy Graham’s son) said God does take sides, while Tom Homan, the administration’s border czar, suggested that Leo should confine himself to religious matters, particularly after the Pope had criticised Trump’s immigration policies as “inhuman.” At the same time, an unexpected group of voices on the American right has expressed support for Leo’s anti-war stance. Commentators such as Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens and Nick Fuentes, who are not typically aligned with the Vatican, have used his remarks to criticise the administration’s foreign policy. It is an unusual alignment, but not without precedent in moments of political flux.
For J.D. Vance, the Catholic vice president, who just left Islamabad after inconclusive peace talks with Iran, the situation is particularly delicate. He is a convert to Catholicism, and he is finding it difficult to navigate his personal faith and political responsibilities, especially with a mercurial boss like Trump.
Expanding the fight with the Pope in the middle of an unpopular war might be a bad idea for Trump. Although a majority of American Catholics voted for Trump in the 2024 elections, recent data suggests that this support is softening. A February survey by the Pew Research Center, conducted before the Middle East conflict, shows declining approval across religious groups. Among white Catholics, approval of the president’s performance fell from 59 per cent to 52 per cent, while among Hispanic Catholics it dropped from 31 per cent to 23 per cent. Support for his broader agenda and perceptions of his ethical conduct have also declined.
At the same time, the standing of Pope Leo appears to be strengthening. A recent NBC News poll found that the Pope now enjoys a significantly higher net favourability than Trump among registered voters. He is also viewed more positively than Catholic figures within the administration, including Vance and Marco Rubio. Among Catholics, his appeal is particularly strong, with surveys indicating that roughly eight in ten hold a favourable opinion.