Why are Pope’s Woke and Soft on Immigration and Race Issues? A Debate with James Reed and Paul Walker, By Peter West

 The election of Pope Leo XIV on May 8, 2025, has reignited old debates within the Catholic Church, particularly around immigration, race, and the papacy's apparent alignment with progressive causes. Writing in The Daily Sceptic, Professor Roger Watson argues that Leo, like his predecessor Francis, reflects a "soft" or even "woke" stance, one that emphasises open-hearted migration policies while downplaying border security and national identity. But is this criticism fair? As a Catholic and a traditionalist, I believe the answer is more complex. The papacy's message of compassion may frustrate the faithful, but its roots run deeper than modern politics.

Watson points to Leo XIV's vocal opposition to hardline immigration figures like Donald Trump and J.D. Vance, echoing the approach of Pope Francis. Like Francis, Leo calls for migration systems rooted in "kindness, hospitality, and a fast track to citizenship." This flows directly from Catholic social teaching, grounded in Christ's call to welcome the stranger (Matthew 25:35) and the Church's insistence on the inviolable dignity of every human person.

Indeed, Pope Francis famously began his pontificate with a visit to Lampedusa in 2013, mourning the loss of migrant lives in the Mediterranean. More recently, Francis condemned Trump's 2025 deportation plans as a "violation of human dignity." Leo XIV, an Augustinian born in Chicago with Peruvian citizenship, has mirrored this approach, voicing support for Venezuelan refugees in Peru and reposting messages criticising Trump's DACA repeal and family separation policies.

On race, both Popes have emphasised unity over division. After the murder of George Floyd, Francis called for justice and healing, while Leo tweeted: "We need to hear more from leaders in the Church, to reject racism and seek justice." Their vision reflects the Church's universalist ethos: "There is neither Jew nor Greek… for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Galatians 3:28). But Watson argues that such rhetoric glosses over hard realities, such as the UK's rising crime rates, cultural fragmentation, and the documented failures of multicultural policy. In this view, papal compassion borders on irresponsibility.

Critics label popes like Francis and Leo as "woke," suggesting they've adopted the language and priorities of secular progressivism. But that charge misunderstands both the Church's mission and its theological continuity.

Catholic teaching on migration isn't a Vatican innovation from the 2010s, it's embedded in the Catechism. Paragraph 2241 urges wealthier nations to welcome migrants "to the extent they are able," while maintaining respect for law and the common good. This balance has been echoed across papacies: Pius XII, John Paul II, and Benedict XVI all defended migrant dignity while calling for prudent policy.

Similarly, the Church has long opposed racial discrimination. Gaudium et Spes, one of Vatican II's major documents, condemns racism as a violation of human dignity. Popes speaking against systemic injustice aren't capitulating to identity politics, they're reaffirming Catholic moral theology. What's new isn't the message, but the tone. Francis and Leo have used modern media and language to amplify traditional teaching, but the roots are ancient.

Still, Watson and others raise a fair concern: does this pastoral emphasis lack political realism? While it's the Church's job to speak moral truth, calls for limitless welcome can sound detached from on-the-ground consequences, overburdened hospitals, housing shortages, or community tensions. The 2024 British Social Attitudes Survey found that 50% of Britons want lower migration. Papal exhortations that seem to ignore this concern risk alienating the faithful.

Watson also speculates that Francis and Leo's South American backgrounds inform their generous immigration stance. He even suggests a strategic interest, boosting Catholic demographics in the US through Latin American migration.

The simpler explanation is this: both Francis and Leo have witnessed poverty and displacement firsthand. Leo worked closely with Venezuelan migrants in Peru. Francis grew up in Argentina, the son of Italian immigrants. Their compassion isn't manipulative, it's personal. And their critique of Western migration limits reflects a belief that wealthy nations should do more, not less.

That said, critics like Watson point to genuine challenges. The UK's housing crisis, overstretched services, and rising intercommunal tensions (such as the Hindu-Muslim clashes in Leicester, 2022) are real. Blaming migration alone oversimplifies things, but to deny its role is just as naïve.

Watson invokes ordo amoris, St. Augustine's concept of "ordered love" to argue for immigration limits. J.D. Vance uses the same idea: that our love must begin with God, then family, then community, and only then extend to strangers. Leo, however, pushed back, saying, "Jesus doesn't ask us to rank our love for others."

But can we really love everyone equally? Vance's point is that governments, like individuals, have primary duties. A father who neglects his children to serve others isn't virtuous, he's failing in love's proper order. Likewise, a nation that welcomes all while failing its own citizens risks injustice.

Here, the Catechism offers nuance. While calling for openness, it affirms the need for prudence and the right of states to control their borders. A blanket moral demand without practical limitation ignores the delicate balance of charity and justice.

Ultimately, Popes are not presidents. They are pastors. Their job isn't to draft immigration policy, it's to bear moral witness to the Gospel, which calls us to radical hospitality and love beyond tribal lines. That makes the papacy appear soft, especially to those fighting for cultural preservation, national identity, or integration policy. But calling the Pope "woke" flattens a spiritual mission into a political caricature.

Still, the critique cannot be dismissed. If compassion is preached without corresponding attention to prudence, the message will fail, not because it is false, but because it is incomplete. Pope Leo XIV must find a way to pair universal love with ordo amoris, or risk appearing tone-deaf to the very sheep he's been called to shepherd.

Pope Leo XIV speaks with a global conscience, one shaped by real suffering, theological depth, and fidelity to Christ. But if his message ignores local consequences, it may alienate those he seeks to guide. The "woke" label may be unfair, but the challenge is real: the modern Church must witness to love without forgetting order. If it cannot hold compassion and prudence in tension, it risks losing the trust of its faithful, and the opportunity to lead them wisely in an age of division.

I understand that James Reed and Paul Walker, who are not Catholics, are offering a reply to this article at the blog today.

https://dailysceptic.org/2025/05/12/why-are-popes-so-soft-on-migration/

"We Catholics have had a few days since Thursday to reflect on the appointment of our new leader Pope Leo XIV. The cardinals have flown home, St Peter's Square is less crowded and tourists will be back in the Vatican Museum surreptitiously photographing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

The election was mercifully quick, Cardinal Robert Prevost chose a significant Papal moniker. Reflecting one of our greatest popes who established a significant aspect of Catholic social teaching with Rerum Novarum (1891) on the proper relationship between capital and labour, his demeanour and mode of address when he appeared on the Vatican balcony were encouraging.

However, all we can really conclude so far is: habemus quendam (we have someone). Time will tell what Pope Leo's agenda is. Of course, reformists wish for more reforms of the kind Pope Francis was instituting. These were mainly around greater acceptance of people formerly marginalised by the Church such as gays and divorcees, an emphasis on social justice and an obsession with climate change.

Those of us at the traditional end of the spectrum (many would consider us to be 'on the spectrum') are mainly concerned about the future of the pre-1969 traditional Latin Mass. While there is evidence that he is a reformer in the mould of Pope Francis – who appointed him cardinal – we are yet to learn what he thinks about the traditional Latin Mass which his predecessor was so eager to wipe out.

Like recent popes and nearly every bishop across the world, he will have to run the gauntlet of accusations about 'turning a blind eye' to evidence that priests under his authority were engaged in child abuse. It remains to be seen how much such accusations will dog him. Undoubtedly, Catholic bishops have often managed such accusations badly. But it is also the case that even when dealt with it is never soon enough or harsh enough for the victims. I imagine he will survive such accusations, as did Pope Francis.

Another major plank in the thinking of the previous incumbent was migration. Not, as should be the case, concern about such migration, but a seemingly unquestioning belief that all migrants are equal and all must be met with kindness, hospitality and a fast track to citizenship wherever they choose to land. Over the weekend, articles emerged in the media and in political magazines revealing Pope Leo's overt criticism via his X feed of Donald Trump and his co-religionist, J.D. Vance. The criticism was related to their attitude to mass migration and their desire to tighten border security.

Vance's riposte was that there was an order in which we should show care and concern (ordo amoris). Ordo amoris, formulated by St Augustine, suggests a concentric approach to love. One where "our love for God should be supreme, followed by love for our family and then outwards to our community, nation, and ultimately, the rest of the world. It's not about loving some more than others, but about prioritising our love in a way that reflects God's will and the nature of our relationships".

This cut no ice with Bishop Prevost, who said: "J.D. Vance is wrong: Jesus doesn't ask us to rank our love for others." Reluctant as I am to contradict a bishop, especially one who is now Pope, I think that Pope Leo will find that, while 'rank' may not have been the best word for J.D. Vance to use, he may be wrong. To invert the ordo amoris surely verges on hypocrisy. After all, we all know social justice warriors, religious and social reformers who will take to the streets or enter a debate while their families are neglected.

I wonder if we can expect a relaxation in the rules about who can enter the Vatican City and an opening of the gates and the Vatican coffers – estimated between $10-15 billion – to refugees under our new Pope? I expect not.

Nobody, J.D. Vance included I am sure, would say that we must hate, ignore or persecute migrants. And none but the most xenophobic would say that we must never accept anyone within our borders who is genuinely fleeing persecution or death. But, just as the ordo amoris should prioritise our concerns, surely also there is an order in which we should show our concern for migrants. Those genuinely seeking asylum should be our priority; those simply looking for a better life should be considered. But if it is to the detriment of our society – culturally, socially or economically – then there must be a limit.

Our recent and present popes seemed incapable of such nuanced thinking, instructing the faithful to accept migrants in their midst unquestioningly, without apparent limit and without considering the consequences. Well, popes past and present, that was precisely the attitude we took in the UK for decades, with disastrous consequences for many cities and communities. One tangible outcome has been the industrial levels of rape of young, mainly white, girls by predominantly Pakistani Muslim grooming gangs.

Nevertheless, something must underlie the senior churchmen's uncommon emphasis on a passive approach to migration and an active, loving approach to migrants. It is noticeable that, while much has been made of Pope Leo's US birth and citizenship, both Pope Francis and Pope Leo have strong roots in South America. While a large proportion of migrants to the US – legal and illegal – come from Mexico and other countries such as India and China contribute many migrants, a large proportion of undocumented (i.e., illegal) migrants arrive from South America.

Could it be that our popes have a vested interest in seeing mass migration from south to north on the American continent? While declining, Roman Catholicism remains, at 54%, the majority religion across South America. In Mexico the proportion of Roman Catholics is 78%. Perhaps their unquestioning approach to migration and attacks on those who try to limit it is part of a hope to turn the US, currently only 22% Roman Catholic, into a Catholic country.

While there may, therefore, be some method in their madness regarding mass migration, popes clearly need to observe what is happening in the UK and across Europe. There is certainly a religious 'revival' of sorts. But it is one that is to the detriment of Christianity generally and may have consequences for Roman Catholicism. I am referring, of course, to the Islamification of our society. If Pope Leo XIV is content to overlook that, then he is either not listening to or not being properly informed by his Bishops.

However, our popes are not alone in advocating on behalf of migrants. This includes some bishops close to home. Former Archbishop Murphy-O'Connor of Westminster advocated for undocumented migrants and current incumbent, Cardinal Nichols, has criticised the government over its response, which he considers inadequate, to migrants and refugees. Of course, this may well be a sentiment driven by Christian compassion. But compassion is cheap, especially when other people are paying for it.